Dyed-in-the-wool Marxists will note that this box set collecting seven of Groucho, Harpo, and Chico’s late-period movies is hardly definitive—their most anarchically funny work, Duck Soup and Animal Crackers, is missing. But we do have the two true classics they made with their most simpatico producer, Irving Thalberg, A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races. The other five here are lesser-known for a reason—with a new studio calling the shots, the brothers were forced into restrictive, plot-oriented material that straitjacketed and tamed them. Carping aside, every Marx Brothers film has its moments—and even the lesser ones are better than many other comedians’ best, thanks to Groucho’s stiletto insults like At the Circus’ “I bet your father spent the first year of your life throwing rocks at the stork.” It’s funny because it’s true. The set also includes A Night in Casablanca, the source of one of the best real-life Groucho quips: After the Warner Brothers studio threatened to sue if the Marx Brothers didn’t change their title (which Warner claimed was too similar to their Humphrey Bogart thriller), Groucho threatened to countersue: “You probably have the right to use the name Warner, but what about Brothers? Professionally, we were brothers long before you were.”
Category: Article
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El Burrito Mercado
“You’ll feel like you’re in Mexico!” it says on EBM’s website, which may explain why Dick and Lynne Cheney kept their visit short last March. For our part, we always leave with more than we came for. El Burrito’s boggling array of dried peppers, from ancho to pasilla, can lure anyone into the Mercado, and our latest trip to the deli case netted a bag of burritos including chorizo, puerco en verde, pollo, and our favorite: shredded bistek in an oily red gravy unmatched anywhere in the metro. If you want to cool your heels, the cafeteria has a new seating area, and they say beer is coming soon.
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Hell in the Pacific
D-Day turns sixty next month, bringing a barrage of notable World War Two movies on the DVD release front. We’re especially fond of this one, a very different proposition from what you’ll usually find in the genre. Directed in 1968 by John Boorman (at his creative peak, after Point Blank and before Deliverance), Hell avoids cliché with a story set on the sidelines of the Pacific Front, as two enemy soldiers stranded on a remote island must decide whether to kill each other or cooperate to survive. Beautifully shot and intriguingly scripted—realistically, the language barrier never is resolved—the film is most interesting as an actor’s duel between tough-guy greats Lee Marvin and Toshiro Mifune, a sort of cinematic Ali/Frazier matchup. Though its ending’s antiwar message is painful in its “shocking” obviousness (it was 1968, remember), this film’s a clear victory.
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Quang
Our only regret, really, is that it took us so long to finally check out this bustling Vietnamese spot, one of the reasons Nicollet Avenue earned the nickname “Eat Street.” Big portions, tasty dishes (love the chicken with ginger sauce), and nicely affordable: We splurged on one of the most expensive items on the menu—the weekends-only seabass and jumbo shrimp soup—and were set back a mere eight bucks. And in our ongoing quest to find the perfect eggroll, we may have found a new contender. On second thought, we won’t regret anything, we’ll just eat.
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The Testament of Dr. Mabuse: The Criterion Collection
Best known for M and Metropolis, director Fritz Lang made this intriguingly offbeat 1933 thriller just before fleeing Nazi Germany—and small wonder he had to. Though the Nazis supposedly offered him a chance to run Hitler’s film industry, they couldn’t have liked the parallels Testament drew between its titular villain, an insane criminal genius, and Der Fuehrer. Besides its political daring, Testament was a forward-looking piece of cinematic art, bridging German expressionism and the later styles of Alfred Hitchcock and the James Bond-style spy thriller. And the character of Mabuse himself, who runs a shadowy crime empire from an asylum cell, is an exemplar of the line of fictional evil masterminds stretching from Moriarty to Hannibal Lecter. Criterion’s two-disc DVD is jam-packed with extra goodies—interviews, a fresh English translation, and production-design sketches—that nearly comprise a film-school seminar of their own.
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Diana Krall, The Girl in the Other Room
Cooing jazz chanteuse Diana Krall met pop-punk icon Elvis Costello at the 2002 Grammys, and so far two great things have resulted—their marriage, and an inspired, romantic collaborative album. Krall is known for giving new life to old standards. Girl In The Other Room, however, breaks that tradition as the first of her eight albums to showcase her songwriting talents. Sexy down-tempo numbers such as “Abandoned Masquerade” and “I’ve Changed My Address” are highlights that foretell a great future for Krall/Costello originals. Costello lends his songwriting finesse on six numbers, and Krall also covers the likes of Joni Mitchell and Tom Waits. Longtime fans will see this as a departure from her usual fare of simple standards, but fear not—this clever, more sophisticated material still preserves her signature elegance.
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Los Lobos, The Ride
East L.A.’s band of wolves have had a thirty-year career of remarkably high-quality work, though that hasn’t always translated into the mainstream success worthy of their talent, their 1987 monster-hit cover of “La Bamba” aside. And although it’s good news to us merely that they’re back with their first disc since 2002’s stellar Good Morning Aztlan, seeing who else Los Lobos have invited along for The Ride makes this one especially intriguing. Guests include Richard Thompson, Tom Waits, and Bobby Womack, who joins the band on a remake of his seventies soul classic “Across 110th Street.” Elvis Costello and gospel singer Mavis Staples lend vocals to reworked versions of two older Lobos tunes, “Matter of Time” and “Someday.” Mark your calendars for September 1 and 2, when the band’s crackling live show brings them to the State Fair stage.
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Toots & The Maytals, True Love
For those who know Toots & the Maytals solely from “Pressure Drop”—the best cut on The Harder They Come, the greatest reggae collection ever—a whole world awaits. With Jimmy Cliff, Bob Marley, and Bunny Wailer, Toots has kept on keeping on, even as public interest in reggae outside of Kingston, Jamaica, has dipped and doodled with the speed with which Minnesotans become Twins fans. Toots’ latest, True Love, is a guest-studded affair featuring the likes of Eric Clapton, Ben Harper, Bonnie Raitt, and Ryan Adams, perhaps in hopes of generating the same kind of crossover appeal that reminded everyone Carlos Santana was still alive. It’s an honorable introduction to our man Toots—and since people have been jumping on and off his bandwagon for a generation, no one will mind if you suddenly catch on now.
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Women with Vision 2004
For its eleventh year, the Walker’s annual celebration of female film directors kicks off with the apropos new documentary In the Company of Women, a look at the vital role of female filmmakers in the nineties’ independent-cinema explosion. Though it sometimes feels like a ninety-minute commercial for the Independent Film Channel (which funded it), it’s still a heartening overview of the inroads women have made in the male-dominated film world. Other intriguing movies being shown include Double Dare, about Hollywood stuntwomen, and a free retrospective of the short works of Minnesota-born director Sarah Jacobson, who died of cancer in February. There’s also a number of strong features from outside the U.S., including the American premiere of At Five in the Afternoon, an intriguing, Spike Lee-like drama about a schoolgirl in Taliban-ruled Afghanistan who dreams of running for president. (612) 375-7622; www.walkerart.org
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Hormones on Overdrive
It’s another spring evening at the Mall of America, where the Glitz
store is in full bloom with taffeta and tulle. Pastel Cinderella
dresses glimmer under the fluorescent lights, and the skirts bursting
from these sleeveless bodices are so lush, they make the satin wedding
gown I wore fourteen years ago seem downright drab. I touch the
bejeweled outer layer of a particularly lovely dress, and then I see
its $298 price tag, which further confirms the dowdiness of my own
once-upon-a-time princess costume (now stored dutifully in a cardboard
box in the basement, for posterity).In any case, I’m not here for a dress, but for the teenagers who buzz
around me, circling the racks and ducking in and out of dressing rooms
with their selections. I’ve already spent countless hours in
legitimate, moderated teen chat rooms, marveling at the banter among
twelve- to fifteen-year-old boys and girls. Most recently they’ve been
asking each other for advice about whether or not to have sex, what to
do if your dad thinks you’re a ’ho, how to get a girl back, combating
lust, and whether boys prefer shaved pubic hair on girls. Now I’m
hoping to break out of the close, sweaty space of these anonymous chats
and talk to some local teens face to face. I see a friendly looking
girl at the rack with the jeweled skirt and I make my move.Melissa, it turns out, is a junior from Lafayette, Minnesota
(population 529), and she’s here shopping for the prom. She doesn’t
have a date yet, but she plans to go either way, because, as she
explains, prom is a very big deal. “I guess girls like to get all
dolled up, it makes us feel important,” she told me shyly, averting her
gaze. When I asked if she thought there would be drinking and drugs and
sex at the prom, she looked a bit wounded. “No, I don’t think we really
have that kind of thing,” she said.Of the fifteen or so kids in my highly unscientific sampling at the
mall that night, Melissa, the shy girl sporting a mouthful of braces
and little or no make-up on her almost clear skin, was the only one who
expressed such reassuring naivete.If the lilac buds outside my window pop open today, then others were
blooming yesterday along roadsides approximately seventeen miles south
of here, and still more will be doing so tomorrow seventeen miles
northward. Spring rolls along at a pleasantly predictable pace year
after year, global warming or no. As it arrives, it greens the lawns,
buds the trees, and transforms winter’s faded trash into dirty
pinwheels to blow in the wind. Spring also heralds prom night, a
cultural relic that UrbanDictionary.com now defines as an “unusual
American custom in which otherwise Puritanical just-say-no parents
support, tolerate, approve of, or feign ignorance and/or disapproval of
teenage public drunkenness, destruction of hotel property, and lewd
behavior.”Today’s proms are not at all the crepe paper-and-punch affairs of times
past. As the premiere social events of the teen season and the last
hurrah of adolescence, today’s over-the-top, limo- and hotel-enhanced,
booze- and sex-soaked proms might even be viewed as emblematic of the
way everything about American adolescence has changed. And adolescence
has changed, in that it now lasts for all of about twenty minutes—or
twenty years, depending on how you look at it. We simultaneously want
to accelerate childhood into adulthood, and spend our adulthood
resisting the trappings of age and idolizing and emulating youth.American adolescence is both the shortest and the longest it has ever
been at any point in history, which isn’t saying all that much, since
the term “teenager” with all its associated connotations was only first
coined in 1942—prior to which the notion of an extended passage between
childhood and adulthood had yet to be embraced in ideological or
practical terms.Modern adolescence has been defined as lasting until anywhere between
age nineteen and thirty-four (the latter being the age of adulthood, as
pinpointed by the $3.4 million “Transitions to Adulthood” project,
funded by the MacArthur Foundation). Known as the Peter Pan syndrome,
the trend of extended adolescence is represented by a growing number of
twenty-somethings who depend on their parents well past the point of
legal adulthood. According to the Institute for Social Research at the
University of Michigan, the number of young adults in their twenties
living at home with their parents increased by fifty percent between
1970 and 1990. Today, sixty-three percent of college students say they
plan to live with their parents after graduation.Meanwhile, when does adolescence start? Scientists have noticed that
this physiological phase begins as much as a year earlier with each
passing generation. And younger adolescents’ exposure to sex, drugs,
alcohol, and independence from parental authority is becoming more
widespread and intense. Increasingly younger children are taking up the
outer vestments of teendom. Meanwhile, the physical signs of puberty
are also creeping down to affect eight-, seven-, even six-year-old
girls (and the newest research suggests the age of puberty is also
falling for boys). A century ago, the average age for a girl’s first
period, or menarche, was about seventeen. Menarche now hits girls
between twelve and thirteen. Alcohol, drugs, and sex are now typical,
rather than exceptional, components of modern adolescence. Social
research also shows the most influential forces in the lives of many
teens shifting from family to peer culture, including the media, at
younger and younger ages. This is not restricted to urban settings.
Suburban high school students have sex, drink, smoke, use illegal
drugs, and engage in delinquent behavior as often as urban public high
school kids. This is according to senior researchers at the Manhattan
Institute, who drew their findings from the National Longitudinal Study
of Adolescent Health—one of the most comprehensive and rigorous studies
of American high school students. Regardless of where they live,
students also engage in these behaviors much more often than most
people realize.The American press is saturated with stories about the “crisis of
adolescence,” with new headlines literally every day. And then, every
so often, someone cries foul, protesting all the fuss: “Shut up,
already. They’re teenagers! Teenagers have always been reckless and
there never were any good old days, so get over it!”It’s an appealing sentiment, in a way. If we accept it at face value,
we can let out a guilty little sigh and go back to business as usual,
convinced that things are not, after all, so bad out there—and
certainly not so much worse then when we were kids. This denial ought
to hold up for as long as it takes to read the facts from a recent slew
of news stories: The U.S. has the highest rates of teen pregnancy and
births (and abortions) in the western industrialized world. Half of all
fourteen-year-olds have been to a party with alcohol. Self-harm
(cutting) is increasing among children as young as six. More than
79,000 teens under eighteen received cosmetic surgery in 2001, and
3,682 of those got fake breasts—up from 392 in 1994. Almost half of
fourteen-year-olds report current drinking behavior; about a quarter
report heavy drinking and marijuana use. Girls as young as twelve are
reporting pressure to have sex. Twenty percent of twelve- to
fourteen-year-olds have had sex. The percentage of sexually active
eighteen-year-olds has risen steadily from twenty-three percent in 1959
to eighty percent in 1999. Sixty-six percent of all high school seniors
have had sex. Half of all young people report experience with oral
sex—which they, like Bill Clinton, don’t define as “sex.” American kids
spend twenty-eight hours per week watching television. Childhood
obesity has hit an all-time high. About three quarters of teens believe
that the actions of other teens are influenced by the sexual behavior
seen on television. Sixty-five percent of the sexually transmitted
diseases diagnosed this year will be among people under twenty-five. A
statewide study shows that ten percent of adolescent males in Minnesota
have chlamydia. Teens are five times more likely to get herpes today
than in 1970, and because most teens think oral sex is safe, record
numbers of teens are contracting a strain of mouth herpes that was once
associated only with genitals.The story spins out as far as you can follow it and beyond, and in the
end it should force us to wonder if, after all this, the kids are all
right.