Music

Lurrie Bell

The Redstone Room

Saturday, October 15, 8 p.m.

 

On October 15, Davenport’s Redstone Room hosts an evening with singer/songwriter/guitarist Lurrie Bell, and if you visit his Web site at Lurrie.com, you can listen to his title track from the musician’s 2013 solo album. Here’s a sampling of its refrain: “I like what I’m doin’ today ... . I guess I’ll always feel this way ... . I guess I’ll always keep thinking about the love I have about my life ... . The way I feel right now, I think everything will be all right.”

So if I may ask: What’s with all this optimism and cheer? Doesn’t Bell know this is a blues song?!

Nate Parker in The Birth of a Nation

THE BIRTH OF A NATION and 13TH

Call it a coincidence, a stratagem, a not-entirely-accidental feat of synchronized scheduling, or, for conspiracy theorists, a deliberate act of Hollywood-liberal aggression intended for political gain and societal upheaval. But whatever you call it, this past Friday not only saw the nationwide release of writer/director/star Nate Parker’s historical slave-revolt drama The Birth of a Nation, but also the Netflix debut of 13th, Selma director Ava DuVernay’s documentary on the escalating incarceration, and “lawful” killing, of African-American men. Both films boast many moments of startling clarity and power. Both films, as you might expect, explicitly state that black lives matter. But one of them also argues, to its occasional detriment, that one particular life may have mattered more than others.

Emily Blunt in The Girl on the Train

THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN

Given how much fiction I get in my weekly movie-going, home-video, and streaming intake, I’m generally – make that awfully – negligent about getting it from books. Last fall, however, I made an exception for author Paula Hawkins’ bestselling mystery/thriller The Girl on the Train, and now that Tate Taylor has directed a film version, I can (for once!) share a reasonably educated opinion on the inevitable “Which was better?” query: They’re pretty much the same. By which I mean both works are ludicrously plotted, overly reliant on convenience and cliché, and, despite their considerable flaws, sometimes trashily entertaining.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

MISS PEREGRINE’S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN

In the past, and on more than a couple occasions, my editor has referred to me as “a Tim Burton apologist,” a moniker that I think came about after I had the temerity to enjoy 2001’s Planet of the Apes. But even though I’ve had more fun than most at releases including 1999’s Sleepy Hollow and 2012’s Dark Shadows, I’m a little surprised the sobriquet has stuck, considering how so much of the filmmaker’s oeuvre should require apologies from Burton himself. Big Eyes? Charlie & the Chocolate Factory? Alice in freaking Wonderland?! These are titles I’m hoping never to sit through again, and would be equally happy to go the rest of my life without repeat visits to Big Fish and Sweeney Todd and the 1989 Batman.

Mark Wahlberg in Deepwater Horizon

DEEPWATER HORIZON

Aside from both being based on real-life 21st Century events, you wouldn’t think that Deepwater Horizon – director Peter Berg’s disaster thriller about the devastating BP oil spill of 2010 – would have much in common with Clint Eastwood’s current “Miracle on the Hudson” hit Sully. The former finds cost-cutting recklessness leading to the deaths of 11 men; the latter details a heroic landing that resulted in zero fatalities. The horrific accident of the former lasted for months; the calamity of the latter was over in minutes. The tone of the former is tragic; the latter’s is triumphant. Yet all throughout Deepwater Horizon, and especially during its vividly detailed scenes of mass destruction, I kept thinking the same thing I thought through the whole of Sully: Why exactly was this movie even made?

Music

Bronze Radio Return

The Redstone Room

Thursday, October 6, 7:30 p.m.

 

Given national and world news of late, it’s easy to feel depressed, if not downright despondent. Yet thanks to the roots-rock sextet Bronze Radio Return – performing October 6 at Davenport’s Redstone Room – I think I may have found an unbeatable pick-me-up.

Chris Pratt and Denzel Washington in The Magnificent Seven

THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

Antoine Fuqua’s remake of 1960’s The Magnificent Seven, itself a remake of Akira Kurusawa’s Seven Samurai, isn’t a very good movie. If you’re able to ignore that, however, you can still have a very good time; given the assembled talent, this vengeance-minded Western is practically a triumph of screen charisma and the fine art of iconic posing over middling concerns such as depth of character and historical realism. You may not believe a minute of it, but you may be grinning too hard to care.

Michael Daugherty on the Mississippi River

The Mississippi River brings to mind images of steamboat travel, devastating floods, and Huckleberry Finn on his raft.

The tuba conjures visuals of marching bands, Oktoberfests, and the mother ship making contact at the end of Close Encounters. (Okay, that last one might just be me.)

Audience members for the Quad City Symphony Orchestra’s season-opening Masterworks concerts, however, might find that, from now on, whenever they think of either the Ole Miss or the tuba, they’ll immediately also think of the other.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt in Snowden

SNOWDEN

When his identity first became public in June of 2013, former NSA contractor Edward J. Snowden resembled the real-life hero of a real-life Oliver Stone movie – a well-scrubbed, nerdishly handsome government opponent and champion of truth in the vein of JFK’s Jim Garrison. It seems somehow inevitable, then, that the famed whistleblower would indeed find himself the focus of a Stone-directed bio-pic, and the chief pleasures of Snowden lie in the beautiful match-up of subject matter and creative force; this truly feels like a movie Oliver Stone was born to make. Perhaps it would’ve felt like even more of one had the film not already been made – in 2014, as Laura Poitras’ exceptional documentary Citizenfour. But as unnecessary movies go, this new work is a strong and sober one, with the added benefit of revealing Joseph Gordon-Levitt to be a surprisingly uncanny mimic.

Keenan Odenkirk on the mainstage of Augustana College's Kim & Donna Brunner Theatre Center, photo by Paul Colletti

When I attended Augustana College’s second-to-last performance of the musical Sweeney Todd in May, I found the evening a bittersweet affair – and not just because of the meat pies.

Without question, Augie’s rendition of Stephen Sondheim’s demon-barber musical was terrifically performed and produced. Hence, the sweet. But the bitter came in knowing that the show would be the final one staged in the Bergendoff Hall of Fine Arts’ Potter Hall – the utterly charming, 144-seat venue that I, as an Augustana theatre major, had so energetically toiled and played in from 1986 to 1990, as had any number of students active there between the building’s 1955 opening and this past spring.

Yet there was a silver lining, and you could find it right across the street at the former Augustana College Center. This was the venue that was to be newly named the Kim & Donna Brunner Theatre Center – a $4.2-million facility that would be the home to Augie’s theatre department, with its approximate 7,500 square feet boasting a 263-seat mainstage area, individual light and sound booths, an 80-seat studio theatre, a scenic-construction shop, a costume shop, a theatre library and conference room, faculty and administrative offices, spacious dressing rooms, and even showers. (Full tours of the center, which officially opened at the end of August, will be available during the theatre’s celebration gala on October 13.)

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