The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 80, No. 6, Ed. 1 Friday, September 25, 1992 Page: 12 of 20
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12 FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1992 THE RICE THRESHER
ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT
Missing (dead)lines
Twenties slapstick doesn't read. well in The Front Page newsroom
by Erik leidal
It seems as if humor cannot always
survive the test of time. Is it possible
our generation may not be able to
appreciate true comic traditions from
the vaudeville stage simply because it
is before our time? If so, it explains
why The Front Page passed me by, or
just never spoke to me.
Written in 1928 by Chicago
journalists Ben Hecht and Charles
Mac Arthur, The Front Page centers on
the events of a press room in the
Criminal Courts Building in Chicago.
It's hectic, loud, brash, foul-mouthed
(especially considering the play's age),
and yet, slapstick. Like Laurel and
Hardy, which is great in the right
context. But cartoon comics don't
mesh with the real issues that make a
newsroom what it is: stressful.
When used effectively with a
heavy subject, comedy and drama can
be rich complements. But here, they
Information overflow
often cancel each other out, leaving the
mood neither funny nor serious.
Provocative issues, such as racial
tension, journalistic ethics, job
addiction, and backroom politics, often
fall by the wayside just for a few
goofs.
Maybe the '20s just weren't ready
to tackle these themes. I wasn't
expecting a tragedy, or even a dark
expose on big-city journalism; but
contemporary comedy somehow
complements issues appropriately to
me without detracting from a play's
message.
On the whole, the cast is uneven,
ranging from Walter Burns'(James
Black) awe-inspiring journalistic
passion, to one of the two (non-
Equity) policemen breaking com-
pletely out of character and laughing
to himself on stage. It screamed junior
high drama. Once you accept this
authentic example of 1920s theater for
what it is, however, some great
performances emerge.
A major issue for the actors
seemed to be how to move beyond the
constraints of their one-dimensional
comic traits to a more honest,
complete character. I sensed more real,
tangible stuff from those who had
confidence in their acting.
Almost without exception, the
Equity company members of the Alley
seemed most comfortable and
confident. Hildy Johnson (Thomas
Derrah), the protagonist, is convincing
and appropriate for his role as a
journalist trying to get out of the
business but being lured back in.
Johnson is at his best when on stage
with Burns; their problematic
addiction for journalism provides the
show with its only lasting momentum.
Peggy Grant (Lee Merrill) is
excellent, but her role is totally passive
and gives little opportunity to display
anything. She's confident at being
weak, though (a role sadly telling of
the times). Other memorable charac-
ters include Wilson (Alex Allen
Morris), Diamond Louis (John Feltch),
and Sheriff Hartman (Charles Krohn).
Each defined their character within
this outdated convention, yet somehow
managed to bring a specific identity to
their role.
Given such a heavy season at the
Alley, it is understandable why the
theater chose something light and
reminiscent of comic strip comedy to
occur between such heavy-hitters as
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and
Damon's Death. The show appeals to
Off the cross
an older audience. During intermis-
sion, I heard "It's just like I remem-
bered it" from a man in his 70s. For
my own tastes, punchy comedy
doesn't belong in the pressroom.
Perhaps the play would have been
better performed with less reverence to
its authentic comic style. Though
maybe that would be like colorizing
black and white movies: both reflect
the art form of their time, but black
and white film tends to expand the
possibilities of any subject, while I'm
afraid '20s vaudeville ultimately limits
this one.
Good little girl act over for Tori
Robinsons Sneakers' has soles lighter than air
By Kristian Lin
Sneakers starts out with the words
"A Turnip Cures Elvis" printed on a
black scrcen. The letters then
rearrange themselves to form the
words "Universal Pictures." That sets
the tone for this sometimes sopho-
moric, sometimes predictable, but still
highly entertaining thriller-comedy.
The plot involves Martin Bishop
(Robert Redford) and his colorful gang
of technological wizards: ex-CIA man
Crease (Sidney Poitier), conspiracy
buff Mother (Dan Aykroyd), blind
Whisper (David Strathaim), and
teenaged Carl (River Phoenix).
They're chasing after a mysterious
black box containing the key to much
of the world's computerized data,
racing against various government
agencies and an industrialist named
Cosmo (Ben Kingsley) with an old
grudge against Martin.
This whole movie is lighter than
air, and high-tech fans will love it.
Director Phil Alden Robinson (Field
of Dreams) who also co-wrote the
screenplay, for the most part has the
sense to keep things moving along.
It's only when he halts the narrative
pace to convey his "message" (the
world runs on information) that the
movie goes splat.
It's a cinematic cliche—throw
together a mixed bag of characters and
let them react to each other, but the
cast (which is a really mixed bag)
makes it work. Redford has an energy
that belies his years, and he regains
the comic touch that he showed in
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Aykroyd, whose sense of timing has
been missing from his performances
of late, has his delivery back as well.
Kingsley, who manages to be subdued
and egomaniacal at the same time,
also does well despite his poorly
conceived role.
There are other amusing things in
this movie, like a math professor's
bombastic lecture ("It would be a
breakthrough of Gaussian propor-
tions!"), or Whisper's reading Playboy
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magazine in Braille. Timothy Busfield
plays a sleazy National Security
Agency operative (Martin tells him, "I
could have joined NSA, but I found
out my parents were married"), and
James Earl Jones, perfectly employed,
shows up in a cameo at the end.
Of course, sometimes the movie
caters too much to its audience. The
in-jokes about Greenpeace, for
instance, allow the audience to
congratulate itself on knowing that
Redford has long been associated with
the organization. And when one of
Kingsley's agents uses a racist epithet
in referring to Poitier, we know
Robinson's playing on our emotions,
and we know the agent will get his
comeuppance. The characters are
sloppily drawn, which is inevitable
since so much time is devoted to the
plot, and the ending strains credibility.
All in all, though, Robinson's pacing
is fast and funny enough to paper over
these flaws and make Sneakers an
enjoyable movie.
Guns sans Rose
by shaila dewan
Twenty-nine-year-old Tori Amos
is chasing nuns.
The singer/song writer/pianist
released her debut solo album last year
and has had two hit singles, "Silent All
these Years" and "Crucify." In
addition, she has released an EP with a
rendition of "Smells Like Teen Spirit."
She performs tomorrow night at
the Tower Theater.
Amos was the child of a Methodist
minister and a child prodigy on the
piano. At age five, she won a
scholarship to a music conservatory.
Since her teens, she has struggled
against both her rigid musical training
and her strict moral upbringing. The
album, Little Earthquakes, is her
struggle encapsulated. One might
say they arranged the tracks in order of
increasing maturity.
The first, "Crucify," is a bloody
confrontation with guilt and sex that
leaves me checking my hands for
stigmata each time I hear it. "Nothing I
do is good enough for you. Crucify
myself," Amos wails to an unnamed
man. (When she was five, she had a
crush on Jesus, she says. "I got into
trouble for wondering if he had a thing
going with Mary Magdalene.")
"Silent all these Years," the third
track, is an anthem to Amos' rather
newfound voice. After touring for
years under her father's watchful eye,
Amos is celebrating.
While "Crucify" is the only truly
indulgent song, references to her
struggle to dodge her "good Christian
girl" persona dominate. By the end,
however, Amos is no longer running
away. The turning point comes in the
sixth track. "And if I die today, I'll be
the happy phantom and I'll go chasing
the nuns out in the yard," Amos sings.
Musically, Amos is a powerful,
sexy torch singer who brings Kate
Bush immediately to mind. However,
she's Kate Bush without the special
effects. People who have seen her
perform alone with her piano say
nothing is lost outside the studio.
Her spine-chilling musicianship,
however, does not defeat her lyrics'
irreverent whimsy. One can only hope
that after this coming-of-age album,
Amos will have plenty more to say.
Tori Amos
Sat., Sept. 26, 8 p.m.
Tower Theater, 629-3700
Tracii Guns' punk assault surprises metal fens
by Eric Stotts
When Tracii Guns' Killing
Machine played at the Backstage last
Friday night, it became very clear that
the Backstage regulars were com-
pletely unprepared for what the
Machine had in mind. Rather than the
typically pre-packaged, wailing
rock'n'roll that the Backstage folks
generally like to plug, Friday they
were introduced to what amounted to a
full-out punk assault which was
lacking in only one respect—audience
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Despite the pathetically small mosh
pit (15 people) and the lack of overall
audience enthusiasm, Killing Machine
managed to exploit their "Fuck you"
image to the fullest extent and put on a
truly intense show.
Some of the best cuts during the
show, such as "Killing Machine," "I
Love Her," and "Dreams of Nothing,"
demonstrated the band's desire to fully
utilize all of their formative musical
influences, from Queen and Jimi
Hendrix to the more apparent classic
punk acts like the Dead Kennedys and
the Misfits.
The blatant hard-core punk
influences which drive the band's
music become even more surprising
when the band's history begins to
come unraveled. In this particular case,
much of the band's past was unraveled
not in a formal interview, but through
a couple of ex-girlfriends who
bummed a light during the show. One
of the ravishing, dressed-to-scam
metal chicks, who asked to be referred
to simply as "Chase," began to peel
back the layers of the band's surpris-
ing history.
Tracii Guns, the lead guitarist of
Killing Machine, was the founder of
another experimental projcct in Los
Angeles with a ccrtain Axl Rose.
Before Guns 'n' Roses rocked their
way into our high schools, tensions
between the two major creative
powers in the band, Axl and Tracii,
accelerated until they finally reached a
breaking point "over a bitch," as
Chase so eloquently put it. This
caused Tracii to splinter off and form
L.A.Guns.
Fortunately, another source of
information about the band material-
ized after the show in the form of lead
singer Riley Baxter. Baxter stated that
anyone can come to the show and
"bootleg the fuck out of it."
The band is from North Holly-
wood, and after L.A. Guns let Tracii
Guns go, Guns brought together
Baxter on vocals, Chuck Bums on
drums, and Kent Holmes on bass to
form Killing Machine. The band is
relatively new to the live circuit, the
Backstage gig being only their ninth
show.
This apparent lack of experience
betrays the band's true talent. This is
not a fledgling, pre-packaged, over-
marketed record mogul Frankenstein.
These guys sling their bass comfort-
ably low and manage to project all of
their "fuck you" attitude to those
willing to lend an ear.
Expect their debut album, Stop at
Nothin', in around six months. Until
then, fly the flannel and watch for any
other Killing Machine appearances—
you won't be disappointed.
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Kim, Leezie & Carson, Chad. The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 80, No. 6, Ed. 1 Friday, September 25, 1992, newspaper, September 25, 1992; Houston, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth245819/m1/12/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Rice University Woodson Research Center.