FILM - DVD RELEASE by Peter Schilling Jr.
They Live By Night
Director Nicholas Ray's first film (from 1948) has been called the most auspicious debut in American movies since Citizen Kane. Based on the dynamite Depression-era gangster novel Thieves Like Us, They Live by Night begins with the daring prison break of three men: a 23-year-old killer named Bowie and the aged, hardened criminals Chicamaw and T-Dub. Unlike the source material, Ray focuses on Bowie, who's been jailed since he was sixteen, and his tormented relationship with the teenage girl Keechie. Ray's instinct for troubled youth may not have been better expressed -- even though he did go on to direct Rebel Without a Cause. Here, he perfectly captures the dangers of that delicate age when a person is thrust from childhood into a world where love and violence are suddenly fraught with (often deadly) significance.
BOOKS
History, Real and Imagined
There have been a couple of interesting new book releases lately, so maybe it's time to make your way to the nearest bookstore and restore my faith in the readers of the world. Yes, we still read. Don't we?
Pulitzer-Prize-winning New York Times correspondant Tim Weiner released his new novel, Legacy of Ashes: The History of the CIA, just last month. In his absorbing study of the Central Intelligence Agency, Weiner exposes the institution's incompetence and delusional tendencies. He argues that, contrary to the accepted image of an agency gone awry, the CIA has always been just as dysfunctional as it is now; it has always been victim to the incompetent Ivy Leaguers running the show.
The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman, offers a fascinating study of what would happen to our world if we were to suddenly disappear from the face of the earth. Apparently, only days after our disappearance, Manhattan subways would flood and skyscrapers would start to crumble. Read it for yourself and find out how long it would take to erase any trace of humankind.
MUSIC
Independent Hip Hop Festival
OK. The story goes something like this: Back in 2001, Murs (Living Legends) and Slug (Atmosphere) were on tour together, driving from Eugene, Oregon to San Francisco, California. As is probably quite common on the road, the rappers began a heated discussion over who had the better chance of sleeping with Christina Ricci. Seventeen miles later, Murs and Slug decided to make a record dedicated to Christina Ricci, a seduction album of sorts, each rapper hoping to bed her. In 2002, Slug and Murs met up in Los Angeles to record FELT: A Tribute To Christina Ricci, which has since sold over 50,000 copies and made Dan Monick's Volkswagen famous worldwide. Two years later, neither rapper had even met Christina Ricci, so they moved on to their next project: Lisa Bonet -- this time in Minneapolis.
While you probably won't be meeting (or sleeping with) either Christina Ricci or Lisa Bonet this evening, you can at least surround yourself by people who might like to do so as much as you. Tonight and tomorrow is the Paid Dues Independent Hip Hip Festival at First Avenue, featuring FELT. See, hear, and dance to some of the best in hip hop. The evening begins with Lucky I Am and Hanger 18, at 5 p.m.; Blueprint and Grouch Eligh at 6 p.m.; Mr. Lif and Cage at 7 p.m.; Brother Ali at 8:30 p.m., Sage Francis at 9:20 p.m.; Felt at 10:15 p.m.; and finally, Living Legends, at 11:15 p.m.
4 p.m., First Avenue, 701 First Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-332-1775; $35.
THEATER & PERFORMANCE by Danielle Kurtzleben
Review of Private Lives
Noel Coward's Private Lives is a deceptively difficult play to produce. While the premise is certainly amusing -- Amanda and Elyot, five years divorced, and their respective new spouses by chance honeymoon at the same French resort, in adjacent rooms that exit onto the same terrace -- the majority of the play consists of little more than spousal bickering. Two-and-a-half hours of marital strife could easily become tiresome, but Director Peter Rothstein imbues the Guthrie's Private Lives with energy, moving it along at an almost feverish pace -- a tactic that works well with this screwball comedy. The actors maintain this energy admirably; it is only when they fail to contain it that the comedy loses its spark.
The opening act is a hilarious portrayal of mismatched coupling; the desperation is almost tangible. Rothstein keeps his touch light by keeping the characters vivid, even cartoonish. As a result, it takes only three minutes to understand the dynamics of the two newlywed couples. Amanda (Vianne Cox) sweeps around the stage dramatically, while hapless, feeble Victor (Kris L. Nelson) stands aside. Elyot (Stephen Pelinski) strides commandingly about, while girlish, insecure Sibyl (Tracey Maloney) knits her hands in the corner. The comedic timing works nicely here; Ms. Cox's marvelous facial expressions and Mr. Nelson's fidgeting prove that a beat or two of silent reaction can generate more laughs than any well-timed barb.
Perhaps the best part of this production, however, is the even dynamic between the four characters – all are flawed, but all are likable. Thus, when Amanda and Elyot run off together to Paris at the end of Act I, one can neither judge them nor pity Victor and Sibyl. The situation is just too ridiculous and the characters just crude enough to give the audience the distance to laugh. It is to the ensemble's great credit that they pull this off.
It is in Acts II and III, when the pace moves from feverish to frantic, that the wheels occasionally come off. Perhaps it is the speed of Coward's script that causes this; every line is a potential joke, and the actors are eager to oblige. Act II shows us Elyot and Amanda one week after running off together, and as one would expect, arguments come easily. Pelinski and Cox allow themselves to get caught up in these arguments, and the superb comedic timing of Act I disappears, replaced by shouted lines that trip over each other and are not always understandable.
Act II's bickering culminates in a prolonged physical fight between Amanda and Elyot that ventures out of slapstick territory and into forced, unnecessary silliness. It is the arrival of Sibyl and Victor in Act III that stops both Amanda and Elyot's relationship and the play from veering off the rails. Nelson and Maloney are riotous as jilted but hopeful spouses. The awkward dialog between new and old loves allows everyone to take a breath. The easy, smart laughs are restored, and Amanda, Elyot, Sibyl, and Victor live combatively ever after.
The look of Private Lives matches the broad strokes with which the characters are painted. Costumes are brightly colored, and sets are vibrantly art deco. There is, however, a garishness that is perhaps unnecessary; Amanda's Paris flat in particular (the setting for Acts II and III) is so overdone as to be distracting. In the end, the design parallels the production; it could stand to be taken down a notch or two in places. Still, Private Lives is perfectly acceptable for a carefree summer night out at the theater.
7:30 p.m., Guthrie Theater, 818 South 2nd St., Minneapolis; 612-377-2224; $29-$49.
"Tell me if you want me to give you all my time. I wanna make it good for you cause you blow my mind." R&B duo 
I'm not a big fan of mystery novels, but every now and then I grab one for a quick flight read -- you know, the perfect novel for a two- to four-hour plane ride. I've read all sorts of jems. And I have to tell you, though, for the most part, I find it best to stay away from the ones written by women. Oy! I hate to say that. But.. I simply can't deal with the whole sexy bail bondwoman crap thing. And the chic, urban romances make me want to weep for my gender. Bottom line? It's nice to read a fluffy mystery novel by a female author and not even notice. Woohoo! We can surpass our gender. Man, woman, mystery freak all, head out for Roseville tonight for a guest appearance and reading by author of Justice Denied, 
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Every small to large vicinage across America, and across the world, has its own form of ritual merrymaking, a community celebration, a regional jubilee. From the carnival, to the block-party, to the barnyard dance, we've concocted numerous venues in which to come together with no pretext other than to to have a good time, socialize, commune. Maybe to parade a new hat, a new love. Maybe to give yourself a thrill with a few playful (and careless) smiles. (Surely for someone to make a buck, while you lose one.)