Thursday 8/15
Books/Karaoke: Total Eclipse of the Heart
With his 2007 debut Love Is a Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time, Rob Sheffield quickly rocketed to the top of the rock-geek heap, his wiry frame resting easily alongside fellow scribes Chuck Klosterman and Simon Reynolds. But it wasn’t easy, by any stretch. A longtime cultural critic who currently contributes to Rolling Stone and appears on VH1, Sheffield applied his effortless wit and encyclopedic knowledge of pop music to a harrowing subject in Love Is a Mixtape: the tragic death of his wife. That memoir is a tribute to the true power of romantic music-sharing that makes Nick Hornby’s mixtape-inspired novel High Fidelity read like sentimental pap in comparison. In Turn Around Bright Eyes: The Rituals of Love and Karaoke (Harper, $15.59), Sheffield picks up where he left off: in New York, still contending with the loss of his wife, while 9/11 looms. After the planes hit, his life crisis deepens. Fortunately, karaoke is there to save him. Through 27 chapters, each anchored by a classic karaoke song, Sheffield maps the history of karaoke while telling his story about falling in love again and admitting that he can’t sing. Word is that he’ll share a few songs with the crowd tonight. JewelBox Theater at the Rendezvous, 2320 Second Ave., 634-3400, bookstore.washington.edu. Free. 21 and over. 7 p.m.
MARK BAUMGARTEN
Happy Hours: Holding the Court
A year since its renovation, the Seattle Center Armory (formerly the old Center House) has become a gastronome’s food court. Vegan bistro Plum and diner Skillet have replaced the likes of Pizza Haven, elevating the tourist-filled hub to a culinary degree that actual Seattleites want to visit. Granted, Quincy’s Burgers and Subway are still there, but it’s easy to look past those holdouts every third Thursday at Seattle’s Best Damn Happy Hour, when the remodeled space hosts food and drink specials (like Skillet’s housemade pretzel with Welsh rarebit and Plum’s bucket-list-worthy mac ’n’ yease, both $5), live music, a raffle (you’re automatically entered with your door-issued wristband), board games, trivia, mini-golf, and more. The Armory is a little more grown-up these days, but it hasn’t lost its sense of fun. Seattle Center Armory, 684-7200, seattlecenter.com/happyhour. Free. 21 and over. 5–8 p.m.
GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT
Friday 8/16
Film: Final Shots
Un Flic (1972), the final film from French gangster-movie godfather Jean-Pierre Melville, plays like an abstract of his whole career. Here are the crack teams of criminal pros, the silent execution of elaborate capers, and friendship at odds when opposing forces collide. This one focuses on the cop (Alain Delon, the “Flic” of the title) investigating a bank heist masterminded by his buddy (Richard Crenna), a nightclub owner who shares both his liquor and his mistress (Catherine Deneuve) with the dutiful police detective. Melville’s precise direction is let down somewhat by an unconvincing toy train and helicopter (for the third-act caper) and the dubbing of Crenna and a pre-Hill Street Blues Michael Conrad (the gang’s taciturn wheelman). Such imperfections are glaring, if not necessarily distracting. Melville loves the sense of theater and ritual—which are privileged over any personal feelings—in this social ecosystem of cops, crooks, informants, and collaborators. And he reminds us that while death is just another act in their play, to be met with stoic composure, it’s a tragedy for loved ones outside the circle. Closing a door on a gunman may be survival instinct, but as played by Melville, it becomes an act of discretion and respect for a foe. (Through Sun.) Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave., 267-5380, nwfilmforum.org. $6–$10. 7 & 9 p.m.
SEAN AXMAKER
Visual Arts: Guiding the Eye
With a day job designing sets and scenery for Seattle Opera, artist Rick Araluce is a specialist in illusion—making castles and palaces out of plywood and paint. In his first solo museum show, The Minutes, the Hours, the Days, he builds immersive sculptural environments with doors, keyholes, thresholds, and other means of guiding the eye. Notions of viewing and voyeurism are strongly felt throughout. His creations are often miniature and frequently incorporate trompe l’oeil painting tricks. (In a recent show at Suyama Space, he cleverly turned plastic PVC pipe into weighty cast iron.) Araluce also uses lighting and sound effects to create the impression of space and perspective. His large installation The Longest Hours reads like a corridor leading to a series of doors impossibly suggesting more rooms within. There’s a tantalizing possibility of portals to the beyond, only it’s confounded by viewing the entire structure from outside. For this show, Araluce has created five new works specifically for BAM, among dozens more created in the past few decades. He’s also got a show this month at William Traver Gallery, exhibiting smaller dioramas. And if you want to see still more of his handiwork, try McCaw Hall, where Wagner’s Ring cycle is playing this month. (Through Jan. 31.) Bellevue Arts Museum, 510 Bellevue Way N.E., 425-519-0770, bellevuearts.org. $7–$10. 11 a.m.–5 p.m.
BRIAN MILLER
Film: Danger Below
The Irish director of the recent creature-com Grabbers—soon to be on video, and well worth renting—freely admitted to the influence of another movie about yokels battling voracious monsters, Ron Underwood’s very enjoyable 1990 Tremors. The plot couldn’t be more B-movie: In a small, isolated Nevada desert town, the locals are menaced by giant wormlike beasts (which prowl like sharks, only underground). A plucky few survivors are terrorized by the man-eating slugs, and have only themselves to rely upon. Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward play the uncouth local handymen who first discern the subterranean danger. Reba McEntire and Michael Gross are well cast as a couple of gun-loving survivalists who help lead the resistance to the unseen threat. (Though actually, like the shark in Jaws, they do eventually reveal themselves—and they blow up real good, too.) Known as the “graboids,” hence the influence on Grabbers, the toothy creatures would go on to star in no less than three direct-to-video sequels and a short-lived 2003 TV series starring Gross. None can match the original’s droll adrenaline wit—as when our heroes find themselves clambering onto rooftops and up telephone poles to escape the lurking demons, then realize they can never climb down. (Though Wed.) Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 686-6684, central-cinema.com. $6–$8. 7 p.m. BRIAN MILLER
Saturday 8/17
Mayhem: All Wet
According to the trivia guardians at Guinness World Records, over 11,000 Kentuckians currently hold the record that Seattle will attempt to surpass at 4 this afternoon: the World’s Largest Water Balloon Fight, arranged by the Party Camp charity, which benefits Children’s Hospital. If enough people sign up and gather today (when food trucks, live music, and a beer garden will also provide incentive), a projected 300,000 water balloons will be filled and hurled—though none in anger, we trust. Participants—it seems wrong to call them fighters—are instructed not to aim at the face. The minimum age is 14, but otherwise there aren’t any rules. (Dress appropriately; swimsuits and goggles may help.) The projected battleground will spill into the International Fountain and possibly beyond. If 12,000 Seattleites actually convene, it’ll be almost as crowded as Bumbershoot, only considerably more damp. Fisher Plaza, Seattle Center, seattlepartycamp.com. $25 to enter, free to watch. Noon–7 p.m.
(no caption)Rialto Pictures
