Still from Maggots and Men

“It was schoolboys sitting in the classroom, having daydreams,” Cary Cronenwett explains, describing Phineas Slipped, his 2003 debut as a director. “The classroom was in video, and the daydreams that the boys had were little Super 8 [films]. It was bullies, and bullies being bullied, and it was sexy and violent and stuff like that.”

Five years in the making -- including time spent studying filmmaking at City College of San Francisco with director of photography Ilona Berger -- Cronenwett's follow-up effort Maggots and Men was first seen by Bay Area audiences as a short film (“sort of an overgrown trailer,” as Cronenwett calls it)

trailer for Maggots and Men

Maggots and Men | MySpace Video

“The structure of the film is kind of expandable and contractable. It’s broken up into discrete stories, or segments. More of those could be added, or taken away,” Cronenwett says. “I did the same thing with my first film: the idea was to get three quarters of the way through it, and then see what’s needed. I always wanted to lean towards the side of making it shorter and really dense. But I also thought, we’ll see how it works out and maybe it needs to become longer.”

Cronenwett and crew made a studio of sorts in Berger’s basement and backyard; they also traveled to the Vermont home of one of the film’s art directors, Flo McGarrell, to film Maggots and Men’s key “frozen ocean” scenes. Lack of snow aside, though, Cronenwett is quick to note that he probably couldn’t have made Maggots and Men anywhere but San Francisco.

Stormy Knight (standing, center) in Maggots and Men

“The film is so specific to San Francisco, and I was really calling on DIY networks that were already there -- people who would already mobilize for other things, and artists who are all working on other people’s projects,” he says. “I think those networks exist to some extent in other cities, I’m just not familiar with them. Doing the transgender casting is pretty specific to San Francisco, too -- that’s something that definitely seems like an inexhaustible resource in the city. There was one time where I was doing a call out and trying to get extras, particularly transgender guys, and there were two other films calling for transgender actors that was being filmed on that same day. It was really funny, I was like, ‘Wow -- I mean, I’m really happy actually, but, dang, it’s hard to get more than 20 people in the same space!’”

Similarly, though Maggots and Men’s groundbreaking, nearly all-trans cast has earned it the most initial attention, the film’s themes are multilayered.

“Much of what the film is trying to be about is how there’s different versions of history,” Cronenwett points out. “It’s something that historians can argue about. And it’s also something that the Russian government completely erased from history.”

The film’s revolutionary ideas also go beyond historical re-enactment. “The film contextualizes the movement for transgender equality in a larger social justice movement,” Cronenwett writes in an email after our interview. “It’s about hope, a vision. It’s about the corruption of power and a system that crushes its opposition. It’s about wanting more from society. It’s about sadness, isolation, impotence.”

Today's Look: Irma, Washington Square Park

Tell us about your look: This skirt is '50s style and the top is from a thrift store. These shoes are Coach, but I got them from Crossroads."

Almost hidden next to Bar Johnny’s, Cresta’s Twenty Two Eleven Club is a welcome dive in an area populated by lounges, wine bars and cafes. There’s no pretense, just kind-hearted bartenders, straightforward drinks and regulars who look like they’ve contributed to their fair share of empty alcohol bottles.

Cresta’s is the reason why the phrase “no frills” was invented. You basically have a choice of one of the few bar stools lined up across the narrow bar, or you can try and snag one of the two tables in the back. The décor is bare bones, and a solitary tiny T.V quietly flickers a broadcast of whatever local sports team happens to be playing. The clock, always set at 10:40 (in homage to the bar’s address and name), can be disconcerting if you don’t have your own timepiece.

On my visit, the amicable bartender, outfitted with a leg brace after a recent injury, thumped around the bar without letting it hinder her bartending or general demeanor.

The crowd that night consisted of a random collection of older dudes in equally as eclectic hats – a fedora here, a beret there, a well-worn beanie in the corner. The patrons, who all appeared to be men in serious need of dental work, were more than willing to stop between gulps and chat, no matter how slurred their side of the conversation was. I started to feel like I might actually have the soul of a 50+ crusty gentleman with a pack-a-day habit and a conveniently absent family as I, the interloper in the pack of regulars, discussed the blow to my psyche caused by the Niners’ loss to the Vikings.

The convivial combination of gregarious regulars and obliging bartenders makes Cresta’s a perfect place to fly solo. The bar is comforting, and while neither particularly dirty nor ominous looking, I consider it an ideal dive. The core group of regulars is ancient, the pours are strong, and the lack of decoration practically begs the question “what else could you ask for?” Throw in little complimentary bowls of peanuts and a clock that’s consistently set to a time when it’s acceptable to be drinking, and you’ve got your new neighborhood bar.

Cresta’s
2211 Polk, SF
(415) 673-2211

Rough Country
John Sandford
(Putnam, 388 pages $26.95)

By Tim Redmond

Let us stipulate: It's difficult for a male writer who specializes in straight male lead characters (and in this case, in a straight male lead character who spends a significant portion of his waking hours trying to get women into bed) to write a credible novel that centers around a lesbian resort. James Patterson, a white guy, has a wonderful black lead character named Alex Cross who works, perfectly, but that's the exception; most people screw up when they try to reach like that.

And at the beginning of Rough Country, I had to wonder. I love John Sandford, but after the first chapter...well, you've got a straight girl getting hot watching lesbian lip-lock, you've got sordid lesbian drama that turns into a lesbian bar fight, you've got a weird business going on with really young men working at the women-only resort who may be on-the-side fuck-candy for bisexual girls (or may be underage hotties fucking older women for money)...and a little too much talk about "rug munchers."

But by the middle of the book, it's pretty clear that this is not just a great Sandford novel, but a wonderful portrayal of a fictional Northern Minnesota town where nobody gives a shit who fucks who. The owner of the resort is a respected local businessperson. The old straight guys who run bars and work as fishing guides treat the women just like any other (money-carrying) tourists. An old lady who's part of a horticultural preservation group wonders aloud why anyone would care about another person's sexuality, save for "a bunch of stuffy old men."

And, oh, Flowers is a preacher's son, so he knows from the Bible - when a born-again redneck makes some comment about gay people and God's judgment, he snaps back: "The soul of Jonathan was bound to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul."

("Was David queer?" another cop asks him later. "Who knows," Flowers says. "Donatello apparently thought so.")

Flowers is trying to solve a high-profile murder while desperately trying to get laid with the one straight woman around, and coming oh-so-close, over and over. It's almost-sex, almost-sex, embarrassing-erection almost sex. The poor guy's dick is practically a suspense novel in itself.

But there's a good main storyline, too. A woman who runs an ad agency is murdered while she's taking a nocturnal canoe trip out on the lake behind the high-end women-only resort. That leads Flowers to a band that plays at a local club, whose lead singer may have been fucking the ad lady - and all of a sudden, everyone who has anything to do with the band (which might be on the cusp of commercial success) starts showing up dead.

Flowers stumbles along through the case - and we're reminded how easily the cops can screw things up, and how a classic police clusterfuck can lead to a bad shooting. In the end, the band is the center of the whole rotten plot, which is fine with Sandford, a fan of obscure rock, who throws in references to Appleseed and Blood Red Shoes.

Sandford's politics are subtle, but he's a very different thinker than many of today's crime-thriller writers. "I worry about cops with machine guns," one character notes toward the end of the book. "We're turning ourselves into the military. Got machine guns, got squad cars that are like tanks...It's going to come to a bad end. Hell, you get an ordinary car chase and half the time somebody winds up dead. And half the time, it's somebody who's completely innocent, trying to cross the street."

Minnesota prairie wisdom. Don't miss it.

Veronica De Jesus, It's a Battle, pen and marker on watercolor paper, 9" x 12", 2008

Sports and business figure heavily in the drawings of Veronica De Jesus. Her art doesn't have the broad shoulders or spectacles of an ex-jock like Matthew Barney, but the biggest pieces in De Jesus' recent solo show at Michael Rosenthal, "Do The Waive," were of sports players, and smaller drawings incorporate hand-drawn, hurt-looking corporate logos. Awkwardly caught mid-evasion, the extra leg on the football player captured in Breadwinner is a happy accident that makes the drawing equal parts action shot and portrait. San Francisco artist Colter Jacobsen shares De Jesus' attraction to drawing and memory, though the two have very distinct styles. When I ask him via e-mail what he takes away from his friend's art, he replies that in De Jesus's work, “there is really no erasure to a mark, even a mess-up, all the lines are additive."

Veronica De Jesus, Breadwinner, watercolor, ink, conte on paper, 72" x 36", 2008

Veronica De Jesus, All Hugs, pen and marker on watercolor paper, 9" x 12", 2008

Nol Simonse

For Nol Simonse, it all started with that most popular of all ballets and most common breeding place of American dance. The oldest of five children growing up in College Park, MD, Simonse had seen Baryshnikov in The Nutcracker on TV and “thought it awesome.” So he asked his parents whether he could do that. At age nine they enrolled him in a “tiny little ballet school above a pizza parlor. He’s still in touch with the teacher-owner.

Compulsory education was not exactly a good experience, particularly for a boy “who came out very early” and didn’t like to deal with linear logic: “As long as I could learn with a diorama, I was OK”. It took Simonse a while to find his own way of learning, through his body.

Nol Simonse, How Fortunate the Man With None

Janice Garrett, who had never seen Simonse dance, took a chance on him when she added male dancers to her heretofore all-female company for Ostinato in 2002. “He has worked out beautifully,” says Garrett. “What I admire is his ability to express what is deep inside. He has such humanity as both a person and a performer. In the studio, he is incredibly generous and brings his whole heart and mind to the creative process. He doesn’t need to be in control, and his sense of discovery is such that I can go wherever I want with him.”

The admiration is mutual. Simonse seems to be getting as much as giving in the artistic relationship, because Garrett manages to contextualize direction so it is not just technical but respects the dancer as a full person. “She told me once,” he remembers, “to push my lower ribs out, because being vulnerable doesn’t mean you are weak. She also once said that I had ‘emotional shoulders’.”

Pelton, who spends half a year in London, writes in an email: “If Nol looks upwards in a dance, I not only see the sky with him, but I feel how he feels about it. When he focuses inwardly, I feel the depths to which this gesture takes him. And when he looks at the other dancers, I see how he loves them.”

Simonse, in a dance for "Shared Space"

Nol Simonse and Kara Davis dancing at SFMOMA

Now in his mid-thirties, Simonse knows that one of these years, his body will no longer support the physical rigor he brings to dance. Besides, he says, “I want to have my own voice.”

Choreography has become his next great adventure. In 2007, for “Shared Space 1” (with Todd Eckert), he created Orion, a dramatic ensemble piece about the Greek hunter god who ended up in the night sky. In it, he seems to have drawn from both Garrett’s ability to collage a musical score and Pelton’s interest in literary inspiration. At the sunny studios of Dance Mission Theater, he’s been working on his second Greek piece, again drawing on poetry and patched-together music. This one is based on Persephone, goddess of innocence and queen of the underworld. It will premiere in “Shared Space 3” this Nov. 13-15 at the venue.

A few images from San Francisco's well-attended and festive celebration of Dia de los Muertos, on Nov. 2 in the Mission.

Today's Look: Paula, 18th Street and Mission

Tell us about your look: "It's a clash of two cultures: Spain and rock! I just got back from a trip to Spain."

So I’m sitting there chatting with some old school San Francisco anti-gentrification activists on the back patio of a Bernal Heights café and we’re excitedly leafing through a coffee table book. Wha-wha-whaat? Yes I know, anachronistic isn’t it?

This is the book (and please memorize the jpeg below because if you buy a "San Francisco" book this month/year/ever, it needs to be this one):

Great blue heads of people's art, coming soon to a coffee table near you

This is Mission Muralismo, a book edited by Annice Jacoby. Its got hundreds of pages of big, glossy photos of all the best of Mission street art sprinkled with thoughtful essays. Its contributors include Mission barrio luminaries like R.Crumb, Shepard Fairey, las Mujeres Muralistas, Neckface and Rigo.

Where does one purchase said volume, you ask? Well I just happen to know that the DeYoung is seizing upon the book’s release to kick off a yearlong program of events hooting and hollering about Mission neighborhood creativity (“a rising star on the global art map” says the museum. But then, they also say the dress code for the event is “Mission festive,” so I mean, whatever).

The book is just like that. And not only does it have an introduction from Mission High graduate Carlos Santana, but the proceeds from Mission Muralismo go to the Precita Eyes Mural Arts Center’s efforts to keep all the stenciling and spraying and brushing going at a steady clip.

Wine and cheese and stencils and tags at the de Young this Friday

Dr. Loco’s Rockin’ Jalapeno Band will be providing the music at the de Young reception, and there will be live poetry readings and talks by the people who made the book and art activities for all ages and the standard Friday Nights at the DeYoung pull; alcoholic beverages in a world-class museum.

A coffee table book? Swanky museum receptions? “Rising star on the global art map”? It all seems a bit disorienting and strange when we’re talking about a vibrant underground street community, but gol’ dang it- I guess it’s time to get a little Mission festive.

Fri/6 5 p.m.–8:45 p.m., free
de Young Museum
50 Hagiwara Tea Garden, SF
415-750-7694 www.famsf.org

Members of the Farmer-Veteran Coalition will speak at Toby's Feed Farm

11/8 - Tanks to Tractors free farmers and veterans event

For a Sunday countryside excursion with purpose, Tanks to Tractors is a special event at Toby’s Feed Barn in Pt. Reyes Station, honoring veterans who have returned home to work on America’s farms. Veterans have incredible stories to share about what led them to this meaningful work post-service - work all the more needed as US farmers are retiring in droves. The wonderful Marin Organic with the Farmer Veteran Coalition put on this event with story telling from Amy Fairweather (Swords to Plowshares, Iraq Veteran Project Director), Nadia McCaffrey (Gold Star mother and founder, Patrick McCaffrey Foundation), Wendy Johnson (educator, author, co-founder of Green Gulch Garden), Michael O’Gorman (project director of Farmer Veteran Coalition), and others. On top of that, there's free light snacks and drink. A unique way to honor Veterans Day...
Sun/8; 5-7pm, free
Toby’s Feed Barn
11250 Highway One, Pt. Reyes Station
www.farmvetco.org
www.marinorganic.org

Decorate the dickens out of your cookies at One Market

11/7 - Make-A-Wish Gingerbread Wishes event at One Market

Venerable Make-A-Wish Foundation throws a cookie decorating party at One Market, with 100% of the proceeds benefiting Greater Bay Area Make-A-Wish. With striking Bay views before you, bring kids (both young and old) to the luncheon, with finger sandwiches and drinks served by One Market, where everyone works with their own cookie decorating kit designed by pastry chef, Patti Dellamonica-Bauler, including three Gingerbread Wishes cookies and embellishment goods like icing, sprinkles and candies. Decorating cookies was never sweeter.
Sat/7, 11am-1pm, $20
1 Market

415-777-5577
www.makewish.org

Today's Look: Vi, 19th Street and Valencia

Tell us about your look: "This is casual Monday outfit."