Jazz vocalist René Marie is a world-class singer in the style of her heroes, Ella Fitzgerald and Dinah Washington. But Marie’s craft doesn’t begin and end with jazz. She stretches across genre divides and pulls from folk, classical, blues, country, pop and more to create a vivid musical tapestry. Marie’s latest offering, the Grammy-nominated 2016 Sound of Red, features all-original material and sees the artist’s compositional and songwriting skills on display. The album adds a new dimension to Marie’s already-impressive resume and further establishes her as one of the great contemporary jazz vocalists.
INFO: 7 p.m. Monday, Nov. 13. Kuumbwa Jazz, 320-2 Cedar St., Santa Cruz. $25/adv, $30/door. 427-2227. WANT TO GO? Go to santacruz.com/giveaways before 11 a.m. on Tuesday, Nov. 7, to find out how you could win a pair of tickets to the show.
When Gianni Staiano got his clavinet back just a week before his group 7 Come 11 recorded their new EP, it was newly equipped with a whammy bar. The clavinet looks like a keyboard, but it has guitar strings under the keys. Stevie Wonder made it famous on his ’70s records. The whammy bar bends notes and makes everything sound awesome.
“It completely changed the direction of the record. Totally different idea than when we went in. We ended up raging, rocking out just for fun. It’s always nice when that happens,” Staiano says.
This new EP, Universe Out Of Time, is an aggressive rager. Staiano also plays the organ and a moog, and runs them through effects pedals. The clavinet’s whammy, though hugely influential of the new record’s sound, wasn’t the only reason the songs came out harder-edged, particularly when compared to 2016’s dance party record Light It Up.
“Those were the Obama years. It was still pretty good back then. We’re always going for the dance vibe, but things weren’t quite so fucked,” Staiano says.
The group’s songs like “Nobody Wins” do address the divisiveness of the current political climate. “The only way forward is if we can all get along. We got to heal the wounds, and heal the divide. We got to come together,” Staiano says.
It’s interesting that the new movie by up-and-coming indie darling Sean Baker is called The Florida Project. In showbiz lingo, productions are often referred to as “The (So-and-So) Project” in place of an actual title, to indicate their status as a work-in-progress, not yet completed. This pretty much sums up Baker’s movie. It’s a great idea for a story that’s been plucked too soon and put up on screen before the details in the script had a chance to ripen.
Baker is making a name for himself with his offbeat experiments in guerrilla filmmaking. (His last feature film, Tangerine, was shot entirely on cell phones.) The idea here is full of promise: a view of life as lived on the outer margins of society in the most ironic location possible—a cheap motel in the shadow of Disney World in Orlando, Florida. Baker presents a plucky band of underclass kids making up their own adventures just outside one of the most celebrated, commercial Meccas ever created for children. But as desperately as Baker wants to say something profound and insightful about the lives he depicts, the movie doesn’t quite live up to its own ambitions.
Co-scripted by Baker and longtime collaborator Chris Bergoch, the movie’s central location is a garish purple stucco motel called the Magic Castle. Tourists occasionally book a room as an alternative to the pricey accommodations at the park itself, but most of its denizens are semi-permanent. Among these is six-year-old Moonie (Brooklynn Prince), who lives with her young, sporadically employed single mom Halley (Bria Vinaite), hardly more than a child herself, in the room they rent week-to-week.
Moonie is a wild child who rackets around the neighborhood with her pal Scooty (Christopher Rivera) and a couple of other kids, gleefully getting into trouble. They spit on parked cars from the balcony, throw the switch that cuts off power, and vandalize a tract of abandoned, candy-colored houses—laughing all the way. That their destructive behavior is meant to signify spontaneous youthful joy in the midst of bleakness is the movie’s first mistake; their antics are soon more obnoxious than charming.
Halley and Moonie are fiercely devoted to each other, despite Halley’s utter lack of parenting skills. That default role falls to motel manager Bobby (Willem Dafoe), whose crusty demeanor conceals his genuine concern for these at-risk kids, running around unsupervised all day. Bobby gives us someone to root for, chasing off a potential pervert from the kids’ play area, and making exasperated attempts to instill a sense of responsibility in footloose Halley—even as her attempts to earn and scam rent money become more dangerous.
Baker wants to make visible those struggling to survive at the deep end of the 99 percent, but he offers a chronicle of their day-to-day activities uncomplicated by any particular insight or resonance. The script feels mostly improvised; it sounds authentic, but lacks dramatic shape. And the plot tends to meander, with Baker repeating the same, or similar shots over and over again, or lingering over them forever, as if trying to make up in accumulated visual details what he lacks in storytelling chops.
Baker does capture the milieu of small, tourist-oriented mom-and-pop businesses all hoping a little overflow Disney magic will rub off on them—motels called the Arabian Nights, or Futureland; a gift shop sporting a wizard’s gigantic head, hands, and pointed hat; the orange-shaped juice stand called Orange World. But these things already exist in the streets, juxtaposed alongside Disney World, with no additional commentary provided by Baker.
Newcomers Vinaite (Baker found her on YouTube), Prince, and Valeria Cotto (as Moonie’s new BFF) make their characters seem real enough, but not especially engaging. (Although Mela Murder makes a strong impression as Halley’s waitress friend and neighbor, Scooty’s mom, who worries Moonie is becoming a bad influence.) Like Moonie and her pals, the movie desperately needs an authoritative voice to give it some direction.
THE FLORIDA PROJECT
**1/2 (out of four)
Willem Dafoe, Brooklynn Prince and Bria Vinaite. Written by Sean Baker and Chris Bergoch. Directed bySean Baker. An A24 release. Rated R. 115 minutes.
Few frozen treats approach ice cream nirvana like the Donnelly Chocolate salted caramel ice cream bar. And while there’s never a wrong time to enjoy ice cream, the heat wave last week was definitely a good excuse.
Chocolatier Richard Donnelly has been offering his hand-crafted chocolates at his workshop on Mission Street since 1988, when he returned from cooking school in Paris. Deeply inspired by the fine chocolates he tasted while in France, he returned home determined to make the best chocolate he could. Since then, he’s been named one of the Ten Best Chocolatiers in the World by National Geographic and recognized internationally for his impeccably textured French and Belgian chocolates with flavors like coffee, chipotle and saffron.
Step into the shop and Richard or his brother Henry, who joined the business in 2001, will likely offer you a sample while you place your order. Their best seller by far is the salted caramel chocolates. “We’re as much caramel makers as we are chocolate makers,” says Richard. “We make caramel every single day.” Slowly perfecting his recipe over many years, the brothers insist on working in small batches to ensure freshness. The result is a divine, creamy, vanilla-scented caramel, perfectly accented by a few flakes of sea salt.
Fifteen or so years ago, the Donnelly brothers created their ice cream bar. Like a conspiracy plot of deliciousness, each layer is intriguing on its own and mind-blowing when you see how all the pieces come together. “It’s really hard not to eat one every single day,” says Richard.
A creamy square of Marianne’s Ice Cream vanilla ice cream makes up its core. Then, a layer of the beautiful caramel, which instead of seizing up when frozen remains magically gooey. The bar is then dipped in Donnelly’s dreamy chocolate and finished with sea salt or sea salt and crushed almond.
The entire creation is transcendent. I felt like from the time I started eating it to the time the last precious drop had dripped down my hand, chocolate and caramel smeared on the corners of my mouth, I was a different person. A happier person, more confident in my life choices, certain that everything that had happened in my life, however turbulent, had led me to this moment, so I must be doing something right.
Now is the time to plan for Thanksgiving, and that includes choosing some fine wines. We are blessed to have an abundance of superb local wineries, and it feels good to support them.
Loma Prieta Winery’s 2014 Saveria Vineyard Santa Cruz Mountains Pinot Noir is a good bet for cracking open around the holidays. Pinot Noir pairs well with poultry, and if you’re looking for something special, then this Pinot ($50) fits the bill with its aromas of wildflowers, cranberry sauce, woodsy fern, pekoe tea, dill, and sandalwood. Loma Prieta owner Paul Kemp says the wine has tangy flavors of bright cranberry, pomegranate, orange marmalade, and more … and that the overall impression is of “savory breeziness.” Two suggested pairings are with grilled game hens stuffed with cranberry-orange rice, or duck legs in orange sauce.
Loma Prieta Winery, 26985 Loma Prieta Way, Los Gatos, 408-353-2950. Open Saturday and Sundays from noon to 5 p.m. lomaprietawinery.com. Check the map on their website for directions.
Fundraiser for Hospice
From 5:30-8:30 p.m. on Friday, Nov. 3 the Sockshop & Shoe Company will hold a fundraiser for Hospice—and eight percent of all sales that day will be donated to Hospice of Santa Cruz County. Snacks will be available, as well as donated beer by Discretion Brewing, and wine from Sante Arcangeli. Live music is by the Joint Chiefs. Raffle tickets for various prizes are $5 (five for $20). Sockshop and the adjoining Legs store will donate eight percent of sales over the whole weekend (Nov. 3-5). It’s an opportunity to support Hospice and load up on gifts for the holidays.
Sockshop & Shoe Company, 1515 Pacific Ave., Santa Cruz, 429-610.
Premier Cruz: A Mountain Cabernet Experience
Taste world-class Cabernet Sauvignon from winemakers of the Santa Cruz Mountains paired with delectable small bites, and bid on rare, exclusive and library wines, with several rare older vintages offered. The event is 3-6 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 4 at the Toll House Hotel in Los Gatos. Tickets are $65. Contact Santa Cruz Mountains Winegrowers Association at 685-8463 or email contact@scmwa for a list of participating wineries and more info. scmwa.org.
Santa Cruz resident Peggy Flynn is bringing three indigenous citizens of Botswana to the U.S. for the first time ever, and her list of concerns includes indigestion, weather and goats.
“They seemed sad when I told them there are no goats,” she says. “They may be cold, so I told them I have robes that they can wear. But I realized they likely don’t know what a robe is.”
The San people are from the Kalahari desert in Botswana, a landlocked country in Southern Africa. They are what many refer to as Bushmen, and are hunter-gatherers acclimatized to temperatures over 100 degrees. Needless to say, Santa Cruz’s marine layer will take some getting used to.
With the help of many others, Flynn is bringing them here for an art auction at the Museum of Art and History (MAH) on Nov. 10. As part of the Peace Corps, she spent more than three years in Botswana with the San people. She learned about their history and culture, but was particularly moved by their artwork. In their village, there are around 16 artists that work regularly at an art collective. They are untrained, and use art as a means of income and to pass down their culture, history and folktales.
Their work can best be described as folk art, though it’s by no means typical. Jackals, elephants, and zebras dance across a canvas in a stunning overlap of vibrant colors and patterns depicting some of the most beautiful landscape and wildlife in the world.
“It’s a cultural exchange,” she says. “The value of the exchange is wherever we meet people from a different place, we get to meet and hopefully understand each other better.”
Though Flynn has a plethora of activities planned, including going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium and the redwoods, she brought the Batswana (the term for citizens of Botswana) artists to Santa Cruz first and foremost for the art auction. She plans on selling 15 paintings, 35 prints, three decorated plates and a Botswana safari trip for two. Several people have tried to coerce her into selling some pieces before the auction, including myself, but she won’t have it.
This will be the first time San art will be on exhibition in the U.S., says Flynn, though some artwork made a brief appearance on the tails of British Airways airplanes. Right now, her main concern is getting Ndodonyane Ditsheko, Xhoma Simon, and Jan John to Santa Cruz. Traveling through Heathrow Airport is a feat in itself, but imagine doing it without understanding English, never having been on an airplane, or knowing what a terminal is. The Bushmen speak Setswana, a clicking language, and see more zebras and lions than cars and buses. They will travel on a 17-hour flight to the U.S., and Flynn says they are the first Batswana people to travel to America.
“I just can’t imagine what they are going to think when they see the aquarium, when they see marine life,” she says, adding that they have never seen the ocean, let alone what’s in it. “I want to show them our diversity, even in this little place. I want to show them who we are.”
The Batswana art techniques are not being taught or passed on through the generations, and it’s predominantly the elderly who are painting. But once they die, painting techniques, heritage and history die with them. With this in mind, Flynn hosted art auctions in Botswana on behalf of the village. After hearing that the San teen pregnancy and dropout rate are the highest in the country, she planned the Santa Cruz auction to fund a year-long art workshop to support young San girls and continue the lineage of painting.
“The girls will sit with the elders, paint and learn about their stories in a supportive environment,” Flynn says. “A nurse will be there and can give them a safe place to talk about their challenges.”
The San people are believed to be humanity’s ancestors, the first Homo sapiens dating back more than 30,000 years ago. But they live in poverty and are often identified by racial and cultural stereotypes perpetrated by commercial media and in movies like The Gods Must Be Crazy, and based on outdated assumptions and generalizations of indigenous African people.
In bringing them here, Flynn hopes to dispel assumptions about them and their lifestyle, while also giving back to her ancestors and the people that welcomed and gave her so much—including her Batswana dog, Cocoa Puff, who lives with her in their westside home.
“These people, even though they are an ancient tribe, are not a stereotyped group living in leather loincloths,” Flynn says. “The best way to show that is to see the art and meet them.”
The auction will be at the MAH from 5-8 p.m. on Friday, Nov. 10. Tickets are $50, including food and beverages, and are available at the door or online at tinyurl.com/artsaveslives. For more information on the project, visit kalaharisan.org.
“I’m like a shark,” says Phil “LandPhil” Hall over the phone, with a laugh. “If I stop, I’ll die.”
He’s not kidding. The prolific musician is currently talking to me from his hometown of Richmond, Virginia, where he’s finishing a 27-date tour with his stoner-based death metal band, Cannabis Corpse. In December, he’ll hit the road again with his first band, the crossover thrash metal group Municipal Waste. Neatly nestled between those tours, Hall will be playing guitar with yet another band, the “sensual” crossover thrash band Iron Reagan. On Nov. 3, they join German thrash legends Kreator and American death metal heshers Thrown Into Exile for a show at the Catalyst.
Spawned from the depths of Virginia in 2012, Iron Reagan began as a project for Hall and vocalist Tony Foresta—who also sings for Municipal Waste—to record with their friend, drummer Ryan Parrish, formerly of Darkest Hour.
“We made some demos, and people seemed to respond positively to it,” Hall remembers. “Then it snowballed and picked up a lot faster than we expected.”
For the non-metalheads out there, the band took its name as an homage to Iron Maiden, with a nod to the thrash scene that blossomed in the 1980s. After recording the initial demo in 2012, Iron Reagan picked up guitarist Mark Bronzino of A.N.S., Kicking Spit and Mammoth Grinder.
“I remember listening to their demo and thinking it was sick,” says Bronzino of Iron Reagan. “More of an East Coast thrash sound, and I liked that. I originally helped them book a show in New Brunswick, and a couple months later Tony hit me up to tour.”
Since that demo—released on the Oakland-based independent metal label Tankcrimes—Iron Reagan has been a whirlwind of thrashing sonic destruction. In 2013, they brought Hellbear bassist Rob Skotis into the fold, and the core lineup was solidified when Bronzino moved to second guitar. That same year, the band dropped its debut full-length Worse Than Dead, a blistering 19-song album clocking in at about 26 minutes. The following year, they released a split EP with Exhumed and a solo EP titled Spoiled Identity, then signed to Relapse Records and dropped their second full-length, Tyranny of the Will. After another year of touring off those records, they put out yet another EP in 2015, this time with Toxic Shock.
“Five years have already gone by, but it seems just like yesterday when we started,” laughs Hall.
This past February saw the sharks of thrash’s third full-length release, Crossover Ministry. As all good artists should, Iron Reagan dreads repetition and decided to switch things up with their newest endeavor. From the colorful, almost psychedelic cover to a drawn-out writing process (compared to Tyranny, which was practically completely written while on a two-month tour with GWAR) and even darker songs, Crossover remains in the Iron Reagan realm of an audio flying kick to the face, while still keeping things as fresh as a new beer.
“We tried to pick songs that fit together and made sense,” Bronzino says. “Musically it is a darker album, because of the state of the world, and we’re also trying not to be stagnant.”
Iron Reagan also switched up its tour schedule this year. Instead of the long, massive tours as they’ve done in the past, they’ve been booking shorter chunks of shows throughout the country.
“We’ll probably play more international dates as well, but we were playing so many fucking shows a year,” Bronzino says. “But I guess everyone still is, because we all have other bands!”
Not for the faint of heart, Iron Reagan’s music features solo screaming and gang vocals. Most of their songs are roughly two minutes long, with some as short as seconds. The songs might be short, but the compressed intensity is a fission bomb of sound.
It may seem like a strange sound to come from the South, but for decades Richmond has had a thriving metal scene that includes GWAR and Lamb of God. More recently, there’s been a wave of fresh musicians, including the bands Windhand and Cough. There are so many venues around town that it’s hard not to bump into a resident or touring musician.
Hall says Richmond is a vibrant scene in part due to the Virginia Commonwealth University School for the Arts. Iron Reagan plans to contribute to that further with several more collaborative EPs next year, he says.
“I treat it like a full-time job and I love it,” he says of the band’s packed schedule. “You’d be surprised at how much work you can get done if you do it each day.”
Iron Reagan plays the Catalyst on Friday, Nov. 3, at 8 p.m. Show is 16 and over; $18/$20.
As lots of locals—and their out-of-town friends—have discovered, there’s a flashpoint of social action centering on the indoor/outdoor possibilities of Abbott Square Market. Even on an early Tuesday evening, we found plenty of groups meeting, noshing, and sipping out on the generous terrace behind the Museum of Art and History. Inside, we glided past the streamlined beer and wine bar (one half of the Front & Cooper concept), and headed for the long cocktail bar with its beautiful back bar of back-lit bottles.
We didn’t have long to wait for a seat at the bar, and started sizing up the hefty chalkboard list of special cocktails. Individually-crafted spirit mixes and ambitious combinations—that’s the buzz at Front & Cooper, and so we decided to get into the spirit. On a warm evening, a cold drink with lots of ice sounded especially right. For that, my friend Katya decided, there was the Holy Water ($9), a blend of Aperol, Chareau aloe vera liqueur, and fresh cucumber water. I found myself intrigued by the Pogonip ($12), made of liquid nitrogen-chilled herbs, gin and lime. I asked about presentation, and was told by one of the three resident mixologists, that the Pogonip was blended and served in a classic martini goblet. I fantasized about something in the way of nuts, or pretzels, or some sort of bar finger food, but I happily settled for just my cocktail. Because there’s a single mixing station at the far right end of the bar, and we were seated at the other, we couldn’t enjoy the sight of our cocktails being concocted. Next time, I’ll try to sit closer to the mixology action.
My pea-green Pogonip offered subtle hints of the herbs—apparently the liquid nitrogen treatment helps to preserve much of the herbal flavor during the muddling process—beneath the aggressive top note of lime-y-ness. Gin was all but undetectable, both in flavor (too much lime, I suspect) and in physiological punch. Perhaps the lack of a brand name gin in the description should have told me something. But the Holy Water was a sensational thirst-quencher (again, little in the way of apparent alcohol). A beautiful crimson hue—thanks to the Aperol bitters—the handsome cocktail offered an intriguing middle tone, thanks to the fairly light proof (25 percent) aloe liqueur, a versatile spirit that deserves its very own cocktail showcase. Visually, it was equally delightful, since two long curls of cucumber had been entwined into a double helix inside the goblet. The more I sampled the two cocktails, the more I wondered about the pricing; $9 for the Aperol/Chareau blend, and $12 for herbs, lime and gin. Chareau, incidentally, is an innovator in the brave new world of botanical liqueurs. Nice scene at the bar, by the way—by the time we left, there was plenty to do, see, and flirt with at the downtown attraction. Front & Cooper, open noon to 10 p.m. daily, till midnight Friday and Saturday.
Grow Your Own Garlic?
Why not—and you can learn how, from the ground up, on Sunday, Nov. 5 from 9:30 a.m. to noon at UCSC’s Hay Barn. Garlic farmer Pete Rasmussen of Utah’s Sandhill Farms will team with Orin Martin, manager of the Alan Chadwick Garden at UC Santa Cruz, to teach you how to select, plant, care for and harvest a great garlic crop. Learn about the many varieties of garlic, soil prep, seasonal care, harvest and storage tips. Yes, there will be roasted garlic to taste! $15-$30—pricing details and pre-registration online at brownpapertickets.com, or call 459-3240.
Pop culture is having a John Carpenter moment. Earlier this year, reviews for Jeremy Gillespie’s horror film The Void excitedly described it as “Carpenteresque,” the same phrase that writer-director Jeff Nichols used to describe his acclaimed science fiction thriller from last year, Midnight Special. Sci-fi and horror films are suddenly awash in the steely light-blue shroud that was the trademark look of Carpenter’s early films four decades ago.
Normally, it wouldn’t be surprising to see a director with a filmography like Carpenter’s acknowledged as hugely influential. But for some reason, it’s always taken a long time for Hollywood to catch up with him. Even his 1978 breakthrough film Halloween—the low-budget tale of mysterious killer Michael Myers that changed the industry forever by becoming the first megahit indie movie—was dismissed by most critics. Today, of course, it’s considered one of the best horror films of all time, and it has lost none of the power that enthralled its first audiences. If anything, Carpenter’s empathetic and realistic depiction of the teenage girls who face off against Myers (including, most famously, Jamie Lee Curtis) has made it stand out even more over the years from the hundreds of imitators that have come in its wake.
The same pattern of initial critical hostility overcome by appreciative audiences—followed, eventually, by a full-on cultural lovefest—emerged with most of Carpenter’s best films, from his 1974 debut Dark Star (originally his student film at USC) to his 1976 pioneering siege movie Assault on Precinct 13, through 1980’s The Fog, 1982’s The Thing, 1983’s Stephen King adaptation Christine, 1986’s Big Trouble in Little China, 1987’s Prince of Darkness, 1988’s They Live and 1995’s In the Mouth of Madness. Incredibly, all of these films recovered from their initial critical write-offs to find cult followings and go on to be considered classics. (Only his two warmest and most immediately accessible movies, 1981’s Escape From New York and 1984’s Starman, truly got their due right out of the gate.)
At the same time, thanks to the fact that Carpenter composed the pioneering electronic scores for most of his own movies, “Carpenteresque” has also become a popular adjective in the music world. Music journalist Aaron Vehling described it earlier this year as “the go-to descriptor for dark-tinged, arpeggiator-heavy synth scores.” Just this month, Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails and Atticus Ross released a cover version of Carpenter’s famous theme for Halloween, becoming the umpteenth musicians to do so over the years. While it is most often covered by goth-type bands like Electric Hellfire Club and Celldweller, it’s also been tackled by artists as eclectic as cellist Tina Guo and German classical guitarist Leif M. Schaffland.
In the last few years, Carpenter has embraced his musical legacy, releasing his non-soundtrack debut album Lost Themes in 2015, which he recorded with his son Cody Carpenter and his godson Daniel Davies. Lost Themes II followed the next year, and remarkably, critics didn’t have to take their time coming around to either record; both received positive reviews for staying true to—and building on—the electronic sound of Carpenter’s movie music.
This year, Carpenter is revisiting his original scores with the release of the Anthology: Movie Themes 1974-1998 album and the subsequent tour that comes to the Catalyst on Sunday, Nov. 5. (In a well-timed Carpenter tie-in, the Midnights at the Del Mar series will be presenting The Thing on Friday, Nov. 3, and Escape From New York on Saturday, Nov. 4.) He even directed a music video for “Christine” that recaptures the atmospherics of the movie, with the sinister steel of the iconic car set against chilly, dreamlike streets.
John Carpenter is backed on his current tour by his son, Cody Carpenter (left), and his godson, Daniel Davies (right). PHOTO: SOPHIE GRANDSARD
I spoke to the 69-year-old Carpenter last week by phone about his current tour (on which he is backed by his son and godson), and discovered that pretty much the only person who doesn’t put much stock in John Carpenter’s immense cultural influence is John Carpenter. Self-effacing and seemingly somewhat ambivalent about his own work, he was, for instance, skeptical about my insistence that “Carpenteresque” is really a word that people use. Put in the somewhat odd but very entertaining position of having to prove to one of my favorite directors that his stock is at an all-time high, I pulled out my ace in the hole, reading to him from the transcript of a recent interview I did with Matt and Ross Duffer, the creators of the Netflix show Stranger Things—which is certainly one of the hottest zeitgeist properties out right now. The Duffer brothers’ love of all things John Carpenter is fairly well known, but in particular I read him what Matt told me about why the character of Mike has the movie poster for The Thing in his basement on the show: “Even though it would be pretty much impossible for that poster to be in the boy’s basement, we put it in there anyway. You can see it when they’re playing D&D. Oh man, we were obsessed with that movie when we were in high school. There’s something about the creature design. I don’t think anyone’s been able to pull it off as successfully since. That’s the scariest creature design. The fact that they did that in camera is incredible. We did strive to do as much as we could in camera, and we couldn’t get close to achieving what they achieved. It really makes you respect those guys and what they were able to pull off.”
I know that ‘The Thing’ got a lot of flak when it came out. Does it feel like a vindication to hear a quote like that from the makers of one of the biggest pop culture phenomena of the last couple years?
JOHN CARPENTER: That’s very, very nice. It feels great. I can’t think of one thing that’s wrong with that. (Laughs.) Look, I took a lot of shit for that movie. But I kind of know why, I think. Because what I did not put in that movie was any hope. And audiences and critics, that’s what they needed back then. They needed hope, and I just cheated them of it. So I’m a bad guy.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen popular opinion of a movie do a complete 180-degree shift the way it did with your version of ‘The Thing.’ Reviewers were so hostile at the time, and now it’s revered almost universally as one of the best movies of the ’80s.
I don’t understand why it did that turn. Do you know?
Well, it’s a great movie. Maybe pop culture just had to catch up with it. And now it has a huge fan base, as do most of your films that a lot people didn’t seem to get when they were released. One of my favorites from that time is ‘They Live,’ which I think is one of the best political films of the ’80s.
Well, thank you.That one was a lot of fun, we had a good time.
I remember someone asking you around that time if the fascist aliens were a metaphor and you said something like, ‘No, they’re Republicans.’
Yeah, well it’s true! I mean, come on now! I was enraged at the time, I had to make this political statement. So I did it under cover of a teen science fiction movie. Plus, we got to have this big fight.
Oh man, yeah, that fight. And now the line “I’ve come here to kick ass and chew bubblegum, and I’m all out of bubblegum” is quoted all the time.
I know! It worked out alright for us.
Did an awareness that these films have found big cult followings have anything to do with the timing of the ‘Anthology’ album and tour?
My son and godson and I, we realized last year when we were playing concerts around the world that what audiences really loved was the movie music. So I thought, why don’t we do an album of movie music? I mean, why not? And here we are. Anthology is an album that encompasses my movie career from the ’70s to the ’90s. It’s scenes from my films that were chosen for various reasons. We also re-recorded music from Jack Nitzsche and from Ennio Morricone. So it’s not just me as a composer, but others, too. So we’re going to play that live—attempt to play it live.
Are you going to show the scenes from the film while you’re playing it?
Yes, we are.
What’s the difference for you between playing these themes live and recording them in the studio?
Well, they’re both great, but I get to work with my son and godson on this. And I’m telling you, there’s nothing like it. I didn’t ever think I’d have the chance to do this. Daniel, my godson, is a guitar virtuoso, and my son is a keyboard virtuoso. So I’m just in the middle, playing really simple stuff and dancing around and being happy. That’s my job.
You did once say, ‘I can play just about any keyboard, but I can’t read or write a note.”
That’s the way it is. It’s true. I know my own worth as a musician—I have limited chops.
Does that have anything to do with why your music sounds different than other composers’ work?
I don’t think so. It just means I have my limitations, and they’re very obvious to most people.
You feel more confident as a director?
Confident? Ehhh, well, it’s all kind of equal to me. In other words, what I do as a director and what I do as a musician are very similar. I’m just the luckiest human being on the earth. Because I’ve been directing for many years, and I do love cinema, but I get to have kind of a different career—late in my life. And it’s fabulous.
You have music videos now!
Oh stop, ha ha. Yes, I do. I directed one. It’s true.
I enjoyed how the video for “Christine” was clearly done not just for people who might be discovering your music, but also for your movie fans who will recognize a lot from the film.
Well thank you. I had a great time making it. It was really fun. Although I had to stay up all night, which is a little tough. Several months ago, we were talking to someone in advertising or something, and they said, ‘You know what you ought to do is make a video. Not a music video where you’re performing, but a story video.’ And I thought, ‘Wow, OK.’ So we talked about it, and the first thought we had was, ‘Let’s do Christine stalking somebody.’ And it just worked from there.
When you were putting together ‘Anthology’ and going back and listening to soundtracks of yours that you maybe hadn’t listened to for a while, what surprised you the most?
Well, I now know—and don’t ask me what it is, because I’m not going to tell you—what my musical signature is. I discovered it, and I went “Oh really? That’s it? Really! How disappointing.” But I now know what it is that I relied on to get me through when I was doing this music. So that was interesting. But I really truly enjoy a lot of the music that we play. It’s fun. Some of it’s scary. The theme from Starman is much more hopeful and sweet, and we did one of those. A lot of it rocks out, I have to be frank with you. The rhythm section of the group I’m playing with is Tenacious D’s rhythm section. They are unbelievably great.
How’d you hook up with the guys from Tenacious D?
Daniel knew them, and hung out with them a bit. He loved how they sounded and the kind of stuff they did, so we all got together. We’re having a blast.
The soundtrack to ‘Halloween’was really what put you on the map as a composer. I’ve read about what the initial response to the movie was like, but I’ve never heard anything about the early reaction to the music. Did anyone realize that it was going to go down as one of the most famous horror movie themes of all time?
No. God, no. They didn’t pay any attention to it. It was just on the movie, and everybody accepted it. Nobody said anything to me about it, necessarily, so I thought, “OK, as long as they don’t throw shit at the screen, I’m happy.”
That was an era when composers were doing a lot of epic, sweeping scores—John Williams’ ‘Star Wars’ and ‘Superman,’ Jerry Goldsmith’s ‘Star Trek: The Motion Picture.’ Of course, ‘Halloween’ was a very different movie, but was the intimacy and rawness of the theme a reaction to that at all?
No, it was absolutely functional. Because I came from student films, and this was a low-budget movie. Low-budget movies and student films, they don’t have any money. They don’t have enough money to get an orchestra or a composer. So somebody who is cheap and fast has to do the music. And that’s me. Halloween took three days for the score. I did five or six pieces, and then cut them in at various places in the movie. We didn’t have any more money than that.
Now all of these darker goth-type bands love to cover your music, especially the ‘Halloween’ theme. Has that surprised you? Did you ever expect to be a goth icon?
Ha, well, I don’t know about that. But it always surprises me when something of mine shows up. I’m just delighted by it, it’s great.
There are a lot of those covers now. I’m sure you know that.
No, not particularly. That’s something else you have to realize about my career: no one tells me anything.
When you did the ‘Lost Themes’ albums, was it to get a little bit of freedom to compose without having to base the music on the visuals of a film?
Well, you know what, I should say yes. Or I can tell you the truth.
Oh, I definitely pick the truth!
OK, well, the truth is that ‘Lost Themes’ is an extended improvisation with my son and I playing. We’d play video games, we’d go down to the music room and improvise a little music, come back and play video games, go back and improvise a little music. This went on and on for a while, so I had a whole bunch of music. He went off to Japan, and I was hanging around here, and I got a new music attorney. And she said, “You got anything new?” I thought, “Well, I have this stuff here,” so I sent it to her. A couple of months later, I had a record deal! What the hell is that? That’s what happened. I didn’t plan it.
What’s it like to see your work and influence rise and fall over the years, and then all of a sudden have it rise sharply like this?
It’s bewildering. I mean, I don’t know why. But I’m trying not to ask. Just go with it. Just go with the flow, that’s all I do.
JOHN CARPENTER performs at 9 p.m. on Sunday, Nov. 5, at the Catalyst, 1011 Pacific Ave. in Santa Cruz. The show is 16 and over; tickets are $39.50 and up. Catalystclub.com.
The Midnights at the Del Mar series will show Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’ on Friday night at midnight, and ‘Escape From New York’ at Saturday at midnight at the Del Mar, 1124 Pacific Ave., Santa Cruz.
Tom Miller has booked bands in Santa Cruz County since the late ’70s, first at O.T. Price’s Music Hall in Soquel for a decade, and later for Henfling’s, Highway 9’s roadside tavern in Ben Lomond. When he started working at Don Quixote’s International Music Hall, he was bringing acts from every corner of the world—Scotland, Hawaii, Spain, the Sahara Desert, the Appalachian Mountains.
“We tried to bring the world to our community,” Miller says.
But Don Quixote’s, now under the ownership of Bradd Barkin, is in the process of switching its name to Flynn’s Cabaret and Steakhouse, and its booker of 13 years has moved on.
“It was time for me to leave, so I left,” Miller says.
As Barkin takes over as booker at the Felton venue, other local music venues are re-examining how they operate, as well—Santa Cruz’s Rio Theatre, for instance, is booking fewer shows these days, amid increased costs and steeper competition.
Miller, meanwhile, has found himself a new gig booking shows at Michael’s On Main in Soquel, where he hopes to bring a lot of the same acts he’s developed relationships with over the years, continuing a tradition of eclectic sounds that include Americana, world music and indie rock. His first show will be jazz fusion legend Brand X at 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday, Nov. 14.
“He’s done some really excellent work in Santa Cruz, bringing all this diversity in the world of music to Santa Cruz, and exposing Santa Cruz as a community, and raising the bar,” says Michael’s on Main owner Michael Harrison, who purchased the longtime restaurant with his wife Colleen Harrison last December.
Michael’s on Main has already had live music in some capacity for roughly a decade, often bringing in local bands to jam around dinnertime. Since the Harrisons took over, they say they’ve made live music a priority, going after more established acts, and in April, Harrison started Grateful Sundays, an evening devoted to the music of the Grateful Dead, which has been a hit, he says.
With Miller on board, Harrison says that that Michael’s on Main will become a major musical hub for Santa Cruz County. There will be two stages: a newer, seated listening room in the front that allows for 80 people, and another stage at the bar, where shows have always been, that can hold about 150. Miller and Harrison are shooting to have live music most nights of the week, with seated room shows primarily on the weekdays and bar room shows on the weekends. “It could be any kind of music. It doesn’t have to be just singer-songwriters. It can be throat singers from Tuva playing traditional Tuvan instruments,” Miller says.
Harrison plans to remodel the venue, hoping to increase the capacity for shows in the bar area by the spring.
In Felton, Barkin also says he’ll renovate to increase capacity, something that he suggests can be done by taking out a wall in the middle of the hall. He’ll change the name from Don Quixote’s to Flynn’s after the remodel, he says.
Barkin says he plans to rely on a lot of outside production companies to bring shows to him. Not committed to any genre in particular, he wants to bring in bigger acts, and believes his venue can attract more big-ticket shows in the $50 range. “I can’t continue to have $10 dollar shows in here for people that may not draw,” Barkin says.
While Harrison takes Michael’s on Main in more of an entertainment-oriented direction, Barkin has a different recipe for Flynn’s. “The business plan is this is a restaurant with a music venue, not a music venue with a restaurant,” says Barkin, who thinks Flynn’s will soon be “a nice, high-quality five-star restaurant.”
It isn’t only smaller local venues that are shifting their approaches. Rio Theatre owner Laurence Bedford says he’s slowly moved away from booking shows himself over the past three years. Lately, he’s booking almost nothing on his own, counting on production companies like Snazzy Productions and Folkyeah to plan shows and sell tickets, while he operates the 685-seat venue more like a rental house. The music business, he explains, can be unpredictable. Changes in the setup of guarantees—the minimum sum a band expects to get paid—he says, have made margins slimmer than ever for promoters.
“There is a thing with booking your own shows all the time: You never really know how well it’s going to do. You’re not always sure it’ll sell out. The guarantees have gotten higher,” Bedford says. “Doing really well one time and losing twice doesn’t really work well when you have bills every month. I found myself bidding against people I do other shows with. We decided that it wasn’t worth going there, so we just decided to support them.”
At the same time, John Sandidge, who runs Snazzy Productions, says that in the past five years, there’s been an increase in non-local production companies coming to Santa Cruz and booking shows. Many of them book packages of shows, sometimes all over the state, making it more difficult for mom-and-pop production companies to compete.
“We bring in more big acts than any town our size,” Sandidge says. “So the big money smells success down here.”
Bigger companies, Sandidge says, can offer bigger guarantees. But even if ownership and booking arrangements change, Sandidge says music fans often don’t notice the difference, as many of the same acts keep coming through town.
As the industry evolves, the Rio has been branching further outside the musical realm. Bedford has been hosting more films and talks like lectures sponsored by the Santa Cruz Museum of Natural History.
This month, the 68-year-old venue has seven events on the calendar—three films, two concerts, the Planet Cruz Comedy show and a fundraiser for Native Animal Rescue. “We’ve become a place that facilitates other types of things besides music,” Bedford says, “in order to stay alive.”
