• Issue Archive for
  • Sep 16-22, 2010
  • Vol. 20, No. 37

News+Features

  • Trial and Error
  • Trial and Error

    Long road to justice for G-20 arrestees
  • Global Classroom
  • Global Classroom

    Lessons Pitt students would rather forget
  • World Champs
  • World Champs

    How did Toronto's G-20 match up with ours?
  • Street Theater
  • Street Theater

    G-20 memories from those who saw the action firsthand

Food+Drink

  • Tavern 245
  • Tavern 245

    Downtown welcomes a new fancy-casual pub, with smart looks and tasty fare

Music

On Screen

  • I'm Still Here
  • I'm Still Here

    I'm Still Here, a fly-on-the-wall documentary from actor-turned-director Casey Affleck, purports to show a "lost year" in actor Joaquin Phoenix's life. Affleck, who is Phoenix's brother-in-law, captures the retired thespian, now a bloated, bearded profane slob, as he indulges in all manner of bad behavior. Hilarious or tragic? Viewers will have decided whether I'm Still Here is an elaborate staged prank or a voyeuristic document of an emotional meltdown. I'm in the hoax camp, though I'm willing to split the difference: Being a self-deluded, manic asshole with a messy personal life and a committed prankster aren't mutually exclusive. Others may see this as a pathetic warts-and-all portrait of a deeply troubled, rudderless young man trapped by fame's mirrors. Or they may see it as a "portrait" of such a person, a characterization of the tormented churlish artist we expect to see. It's hard to gauge how effective this film is when I'm not sure what it's meant to be doing. It's admittedly a curiosity piece, no matter which side you take, and is sure to generate plenty of post-film discussion; like the proverbial train-wreck, you can't stop watching. You don't have to believe the hype. But if you see this, prepare to get caught up in it. That seems to be why the film exists. Starts Fri., Sept. 17. Regent Square (Al Hoff) [1.5 out of 4 stars, if it's real; 2 stars, if it's a half-hoax; 2.5 stars, if it's a full-on hoax.]
  • Best Worst Movie
  • Best Worst Movie

    In the canon of so-bad-they're-good movies, Troll 2 has been an unqualified success. The 1990 non-sequel to Troll follows the travails of a family turned into plants to satisfy vegetarian goblins. (There are no trolls in the film.) The disaster-at-the-box-office has since spawned midnight screenings, dress-up parties, T-shirts, catchphrases and other trappings of cultdom.

    Now, its child star, Michael Stephenson, goes behind the camera to find out what happened to his castmates and the film's Italian creators -- and how they feel being latently adored for the wonderful dreadful movie they made. This is tons of fun for Nilboggers, i.e. Troll 2 diehards, and somewhat less so for the rest of us.

    But Stephenson's smallish journey is made enjoyable by the near-constant involvement of the endlessly engaging George Hardy, former Troll 2 star and now a dentist in a small Alabama town. And not surprisingly, the stories behind the low-budget horror film, shot in Utah with aspiring local actors by a director who didn't speak English, are amusing, and yield a number of real-life "characters."

    Best Worst Movie, itself a low-budgeter, doesn't delve too deep into our propensity for embracing the bad. Stephenson's film rides the gravy train of hipster adoration, until he and Hardy discover that "getting" Troll 2 is by no means universal. It's a moment that the irrepressible Hardy handles with aplomb, but that Stephenson fails to probe. Yet this isn't wonky analysis so much as  catching up with old friends: Sometimes a troll is just a troll ... uh, make that goblin. In English, and some Italian, with subtitles. Fri., Sept. 17, through Mon., Sept. 20. Melwood (Al Hoff) [2.5 out of 4 stars]

Views

Books

  • <i>32 Candles</i>
  • 32 Candles

  • 5 AM

On Stage

  • The Umbrella Man
  • The Umbrella Man

    The problem is that after the first five minutes you could write the emotional trajectory of the play yourself.
  • A One-Man Archy & Mehitabel

    McNeeley's choice of material justifies a widespread belief that Marquis was one hell of a wordsmith and a snappy observer of human foibles and pretentions.

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