Thing 65: The Old Town Theater

The Boyfriend, his Roommate and I strolled down King Street on a Friday night. It was after dinner but before bedtime, and we weren't quite sure what the next move was. We passed under a brightly lit marquis advertising 3:10 to Yuma, starting in three minutes, and thus we entered the Old Town Theater. What a quirky place to stumble upon!

We bought our tickets at the counter, and were asked if we'd like any refreshments. Beers? On tap? Yes, please. We wondered aloud whether we would be late for the movie, then shrugged it off since we were only a couple minutes behind and all we'd do was miss the previews. "Oh no, not here," said the woman who had sold us our tickets and was now pouring our Red Hook IPAs. She had bright red hair and a Germanic sounding accent. "No commercials, no previews, not here. But don't worry -- they know you're coming and they're holding the movie for you."

Oh, right. How silly of us.

We took our beers and hustled up the stairs to the balcony. No wait, I mean Theater 2. Because clearly this movie house used to be a single screen with a balcony, like the Uptown, but has since been converted into two screens. Which meant that Theater 2 had the feel of a balcony, but with a really close screen. They also seem to have added some homemade stadium seating when they converted it from one screen to two, because the seats were at a really steep incline and my feet didn't touch the ground when I sat back in my seat.

The woman at concessions was not lying. Just as soon as we chose our seats and sat down, the movie started. It started right away, no previews, no advertising. When was the last time you saw a movie without previews? It's been awhile, hasn't it? I don't know if I've ever seen a movie without previews. I'm a fan.

3:10 to Yuma was great -- a completely self-aware Western movie that was satisfying in spite of its conventions and stereotypes. Not satire but...post modern is the only description I have, but I am embarrassed by how pretentious and trendy that makes me sound.

At any rate, during the quiet moments of Yuma, we were treated to Jodi Foster's voice, who's movie was playing downstairs in Theater 1. They apparently neglected to soundproof the two theaters when they split them. If this sounds annoying, it somehow wasn't. It was kind of charming and silly instead.

This theater is weird, but I like it. It has character, a quirky personality. In a sea of identical multiplexes, this theater waits for you to take seat, skips the previews and serves you beer. A satisfying, if slightly offbeat, movie experience all around.

Thing 64: Opera on the Mall

In DC, opera is for the masses.

Last Sunday, the Washington National Opera telecast Puccini's La Boheme on the Mall, at the foot of the Washington Monument. Under a perfectly clear, sunny sky, a couple thousand people gathered with blankets and sunscreen to watch a free performance of the famous opera. A large screen was set up on the north side of the grass and we watched the performers as they performed the show on the Kennedy Center stage just down the road.

It's a really nice idea. Bringing opera outdoors, for free, at the foot of a national symbol like the monument. We all know that I'm a big proponent of outdoor movies and performances. But somehow, this idea falls flat when put into practice. For one, it loses a lot by being broadcast. A free live performance on the Mall might still capture the magic and sparkle of the opera, just by virtue of watching live artists and the give and take between performer and audience. The act of applauding performers who cannot hear you feels futile.

Second, it loses a lot by being outside. Opera is hard to sit through for many of us (as evidenced by the mass exodus of people at the intermission), and it is harder still to sit through when you're sitting on a blanket on the ground, squinting from the glare and afraid of getting sunburned. The mystique of opera is that it is a luxury, to be enjoyed in your finest dress clothes and followed by champagne. On this point however, I am torn. I like the idea of breaking down that mystique and presenting opera as an art form for everyone. I don't think this is the way to accomplish that though.

As for the opera itself, again I think it fell flat between the idea -- an update to the classic, allowing it to reach a larger audience by making it more accessible -- and the realization of that idea. Turn-of-the-19th-century Paris becomes a nondescript, modernish any-city, where the artists shoot footage on a cam corder, but write out their stories by hand, without backing them up on a PC. Mimi hand embroiders delicate flowers, but wears a vinyl trench coat. The Cafe Momus looks like Studio 54 and Mimi's tuberculosis becomes some modern, nondescript illness (AIDS? SARS?). While I understand the director's intention to re-make an opera that was once a near documentary of the time in which it was written back into a near documentary of artistic life today, it doesn't work.

I was also completely saddened to find out that the musical Rent has ruined my enjoyment of La Boheme. I can't help but compare the two as the opera progresses, playing Rent simultaneously in my head. This is no fault of the Washington National Opera's, and frankly, I'm pretty mad about it. La Boheme is an exquisite piece of music, and it does not deserve to have me thinking "this is the 'light my candle' song" as it unfolds.

At intermission, Placido Domingo, the General Director of the Washington Opera, made an appearance to speak to the crowd. He told us how happy he was to see so many people out to enjoy opera, and said he hoped that for some of us, this might be the first opera we've ever seen, and that it might inspire us to see more and learn more about the art form. It is a noble wish, and I hope it comes true, but from where I was sitting, I think it's doubtful.

Thing 63: The Black LUV Festival

Full disclosure: I am not black.

I do, however, recognize that I live in a majority black city. And I also love "black" music (which is now "suburban white" music). So when I got an email about the Black LUV (Love, Unity, Vision) Festival, I marked it on my calendar. Sounds cool!

Also, convenient. It was only a couple blocks from the DC Central Kitchen, on C Street in front of the DMV.

I arrived just as it was getting started. Meat was going on the grill, sound checks on the mics, and the vendors were settling in.

I took a slow walk up and down C street, looking at the various booths. There were several skin care and beauty products booth, all of which I duly tested, and learned that my natural skin scent is peach. A collection of black-owned businesses including a greeting card shop, DC neighborhood T-shirts, framed art prints and a book shop. And there were advocacy booths -- sensible drug policy, safer sex, voting rights. I chatted with some of the vendors, then followed my nose to the North Carolina BBQ stand. There was also a stand selling BBQ jerk chicken, and another selling giant virgin pina coladas served in hollowed out pineapples, but I wanted a smoked turkey leg and some sweet potatoes. Which I received, in abundance:


I took my tremendous turkey leg over to the small park behind the DMV to listen to the performers, picnicking in the sunshine. Since it was still early in the program they weren't on to the big acts yet, but I got to here some wonderful poetry, along with a singing duet that had a Des'ree/Erykah Badu thing going on that I really enjoyed. And then tiny children took the stage to rap about putting on their seat belts and what would befall a child predator if one came near them.

Sadly, I had to leave too soon. I had hoped to stick around for more hip hop or even go go, but I had to do my girlfriendly duty to ensure the Boyfriend remains well dressed. But I will definitely mark it on the calendar for next year, and stick around for more black LUV.