Travis Mathews is quickly making a name for himself in the San Francisco film scene. A short film culled from his In Their Room series earned him top honors at the Good Vibrations’ Independent Erotic Film Festival last year. Now he’s working on I Want Your Love, a full-length scripted feature. Although Mathews has only completed one demo scene, the project is already generating online buzz. I spoke to Mathews about his inspiration for I Want Your Love and how the short scene fits into the bigger picture.
Intimacy and personal space play a large role in Charles Slender's new dance-theater production entitled The Consumption Series from dance company Fact/SF. (The show continues through Sat/15.) As my girl date for the night, Suzy Q, put it: "I've never been that close to live dancers in my whole life!"
For decades, respected consumer advocate Harvey Rosenfield has been battling Mercury Insurance and other corporations that have sought to undermine Proposition 103, the landmark car insurance regulatory measure that he wrote and California voters approved in 1988. But he's never felt the need to advertise on television, until now.Read more »
If you live in San Francisco and pay attention to public art, you might already be familiar with the work of longstanding Bay Area graffiti crew Inner City Phame (ICP). Their prolific murals – diverse in style and magnetic in form – grace walls across the city. There’s a tribute to Malcolm X on Third and Kirkwood in Bayview-Hunters Point, featuring intricately crafted aliases free floating among inspired quotes. On a vibrant wall on the corner of 19th and Mission, comic book characters from Ironman to Dr. Evil swing between stylized names forged in cracked stone. An Azteca-themed mural up the street on 25th has a jaguar warrior getting down with the gods. And ICP also curates the street level walls of the Defenestration building on 6th and Howard (that old tenement hotel with furniture flying out of the windows), making a dynamic open-air gallery out of abandoned space. Wait, who said graffiti wasn’t art? Read more »
On today's SFBG Radio, Tim Redmond and Johnny Angel Wendell talk about the sudden collapse of Meg Whitman's once-mighty lead in the GOP primary and the nomination of Elena Kagan to the Supreme Court. You can listen after the jump. Read more »
The No on Prop 16 campaign is fighting back against Pacific Gas & Electric Co.’s advertising blitzkrieg for Proposition 16, the anti-democratic ballot initiative it has bankrolled to secure its monopoly in the San Francisco Bay Area. Read more »
Thrillpeddlers peddle more Cockettes in Hot Greeks and SF Playhouse gets kinda Guignol with Slasher
On the principle that when you’ve got it you should really flaunt it, San Francisco’s Thrillpeddlers essay their second revival of a musical by the storied Cockettes. Hot Greeks, which premiered in midnight performances at the old Palace Theater in 1972, was the gleefully crazed cross-dressing troupe’s only other fully scripted musical besides, of course, Pearls Over Shanghai, which Thrillpeddlers revived to long-running fame almost a year ago and which will run in repertory with the limited-run Greeks.
While not the Oresteia or anything, Hot Greeks is more than an excuse for a lot of louche, libidinous hilarity. Okay, not much more. But it is a knowing little romp — supported by some infectious songs courtesy of Martin Worman (book and lyrics) and Richard “Scrumbly” Koldewyn (music and additional lyrics, and musical director-accompanist for the revival) — wedding trashy high school romance with the trashy ancient Greece of Aristophanes and the Peloponnesian War.
It’s hard to guess what fictive icons of popular culture will endure and which will evaporate from the collective memory. In the 1940s, probably few would have imagined kiddie heroes Batman or Superman retaining marquee value into the next century. Bigger bets would no doubt have been placed on the Shadow, the Saint, and the Whistler, long-running radio men of mystery with uncanny (but not exactly supernatural, or super-heroic) abilities to witness the moral misdeeds of mortal men, not to mention their inevitable comeuppance.
In fact, the S-men usually doled out that payback themselves. Even more evanescent than his compatriots, the Whistler was less hands-on, more a Greek chorus sardonically telling the tale of each episode’s protagonists, gloating over the impending arrival of their just desserts. He was never a participant -- was even a He, or an otherworldly It? He was, simply, a gimmicked-up omniscient narrator, the storyteller’s own voice turned into a character slash-framing device.
As a result the Whistler probably didn’t seem natural movie material -- what can you do with a character that isn’t seen and doesn’t interact with others? Yet the 13-year series’ popularity was such that Columbia Pictures took the plunge anyway. The result was eight films made between 1944 and 1948, six showing during the two weeks of “I Still Wake Up Dreaming!,” Elliot Lavine’s latest noir revival extravaganza at the Roxie -- in restored 35mm prints struck for the occasion, yet. (The Whistlers will also play Berkeley’s Pacific Film Archive May 29-June 5.)
By the looks of things, I’m set to become the sexiest lady in San Francisco. After all, two of my favorite activities, reading and riding bikes, are being sex-a-fied and objectified this week -- and I kinda like it. Check out Dr. Sketchy’s Cute Girls on Bicycles, and Naked Girls Reading for a double dose of tame-ass female hotness (Sketchy’s girls will have clothes on, but the bookworms will be in all their literary glory). Geez, I hope next week doesn’t bring a Naked Girls Drinking Beer night, or a Naked Girls Using Too Many Adjectives In Their Writing night -- they’ll be ripping off my clothes in the streets! Read more »