We've got issues.
Staff writer for Eugene Weekly, Rick Levin been airing his grievances in newspapers for the better part of two decades.
Excerpt from phone interview with King Buzzo of the Melvins: Me: Hello, may I speak with Buzz Osborne, please? Buzz: That’s me. Me: Hey, this is Rick Levin from the Eugene Weekly. Buzz: Never heard of it. And that, folks, is punk rock in a nutshell. Continue reading
James Franco is a fascinating character. With his chiseled good looks and bedroom eyes, he is genetically perched for sex-symbol status, and certainly Hollywood yearns to dip him in those spangled shallows. But Franco, as part of Seth Rogen and Jason Segel’s Freaks and Geeks mob, resists the most earnest superfluities of celebrity; his artistic talent is tempered by self-deprecation and suspicion, which keeps him on his toes — witness the masochistic pleasure he takes in ripping his reputation in This is the End. Continue reading
According to Dr. La Donna Forsgren, playwright and associate professor of theater arts at University of Oregon, there are three things newcomers should know when they sit down to enjoy her adaptation of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland at Hope Theatre: 1. Clap when you want. 2. Laugh when something funny happens. 3. Dance along if you like the music. (Oh, and there will be a bathroom break, too.) Continue reading
Conversing with Jeff Geiger is an object lesson in the power of pure enthusiasm. As artistic director of No Shame Eugene, Geiger is a tireless advocate for the sort of populist, no-holds-barred participation in art that defines his outfit, which is less theatrical troupe than a renegade vaudeville venue in which anyone can participate. No Shame Theater, as Geiger describes it, approaches the planned chaos of flash mobs, where minimal rules harness maximum creativity. Continue reading
By some fateful collision of time, situation and personality, certain individuals come to represent the places where they live, in such a way that the association becomes nearly mythological: Lou Reed symbolizes the junky glam of the East Village, Harvey Milk is forever Mayor of the Castro District, Saul Bellow haunts Chicago’s Humboldt Park. Continue reading
It’s impossible for me to assess my attributes as a film critic, though I can say I’ve mentored with some of the best. My dear friend Richard Jameson, former editor of Film Comment, has taught me more about movies, and how to watch and discuss them, than the thousands of pages I’ve read over the years. I call Richard, fondly, the populist snob: a man of Apollonian discernment who nonetheless finds lasting quality in more mainstream stuff, and who can discuss Spielberg with as much acuity and energetic acumen as he can Fassbender or Godard. Continue reading
In 1984, a pair of shaggy Jewish brothers from a suburb of Minneapolis released a low-budget neo-noir crime thriller that, with its hard edges and bold style, would do for independent cinema what Nirvana, a few years later, would do for indie music. Continue reading
A strange species of magical realism pervades Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods, a darkly funny musical that mashes up a handful of our most familiar fairy tales into a salty stew of deviant psychology and romantic dissatisfaction. Keeping the outward trappings of the fables intact, Sondheim douses them with the realpolitik of reality. Hence, Cinderella finds her Prince only so-so, Little Red Riding Hood is a snarky brat and Rapunzel, left alone too long in her tower, is a neurotic mess. Continue reading
There is an exquisite pain that attends the process of becoming — like a balancing act, emotions teeter in delicate equilibrium, strung out on the wire of what was, what is and what might be. Emergence into one’s self is beautiful, but forever fraught with collapse and nullity. Such is the raw, tense vibrancy that buzzes through the music of Hers, a new Portland band that raises a trembling fist against the lonely wages of independence. Continue reading
Is it just me, or is the Eugene theater scene undergoing something of an ascendance these days? Is there a minor renaissance of the dramatic arts going on in our midst? Could it be that, along with the hip, new vitality of our downtown, pushing out decades of apocalyptic slouch and economic zombification, this city is also experiencing a similar surge in creative endeavors and the venues that host them? Continue reading