St. Louis Eats and Drinks With Joe and Ann Pollack

Circle Mirror Transformation

Whether art imitates life, or it's the other way around, the warp and woof of art and life make for fascinating patterns, experiences, even hopes and dreams. All surface during "Circle Mirror Transformation," which opened the 2011-12 Rep Studio Theatre season over the weekend in the little theater in the basement of the Loretto-Hilton Center.

Annie Baker's perceptive, sparkling little play, only three years from its premiere, peels back the protective covering from five people, the teacher and her four students in a summer acting class in a dance studio in Sidney, Vermont. Marty, the leader (Lynne Wintersteller) is giving some basic acting exercises to a class that includes James (John Ottavino), her husband in a collapsing marriage, with both seeking a variety of answers; Theresa (Kate Middleton, the actress, not the princess), an occasional actress who has just moved from New York; Lauren (Charlotte Mae Jusino), a high school student who thinks she'd like to be an actress; and Schultz (Danny McCarthy), trying to deal with a recent divorce.

All five actors are excellent under tight direction by Stuart Carden, as good as he was a year ago in his direction of "In the Next Room, or the Vibrator Play."

Marty's theater games include the telling of secrets, posing as others and revealing dreams, be they real or imaginary. The brief exchanges discuss intimacy (or become so), show how relationships arrive and depart, fraying and mending. There are poignant moments, and moments of glee. They play tag, twirl hula-hoops with their hips, trust one another and turn their backs. About half-way though, Lauren, often distant and withdrawn, looks up and asks, "When are we going to do some real acting?" Acting, she is in the process of learning, is more than just committing lines to memory and speaking them when told.

James and Marty spar over their marriage, their relationships with a daughter. It is the one bump I found in Baker's usually seamless construction. I could not understand why James is in the class, unless he is using the proximity to Marty in an effort to make contact, and even if that were the case, I still did not feel comfortable with his presence.

Jack Magaw's dance studio set was an empty room, save for a bench along one side used for storage and, occasionally, as a place to sit. Garth Dunbar's costumes showed a wide range of T-shirts, including one to celebrate Lake Berryessa, the largest lake in Napa County, California. Imaginative selection.

Baker has written an interesting play that allows for lots of speculation afterward, and much discussion over what is theater and what is not. Like the final scene, when Schultz meets Lauren 10 years after the preceding scene. Is it real? Is it another exercise?

Does it matter?

Circle Mirror Transformation opened Friday as a Studio Theatre production of the Repertory Theatre of St. Louis at the Loretto-Hilton Center, to run through Nov. 13

-- Joe

The Kitchen

English playwrights in the 1950s and 60s wrote so many plays set in dingy homes and involving lower-middle class families that they began to be termed "kitchen sink drama." Arnold Wesker's drama, "The Kitchen," is set in a restaurant kitchen but is so inflammatory it might be better called "kitchen stove drama."

The play, written by Wesker in 1957, was revived in London a few months ago by the National Theatrer, and the movie shot from the stage production can be seen at the Tivoli on Saturday (today, Oct. 29) and next Saturday (Nov. 5), at 11 a.m. It's an exciting film, from an exciting play, directed by Bijan Sheibani, and the marvelous movement of the cast, almost balletic or choreographed, is by the brilliant Aline David.

It's a simple tale, a day in the life of a large, busy restaurant where the staff goes almost berserk preparing for lunch, has some down time for character development during the afternoon and returns with a fury of dinner preparation and conflict.

The cast of about 30 moves with such speed that it truly looks like a restaurant being "slammed," with everyone wanting to be fed at the same time -- right away.

We begin with the arrival of a new cook, Kevin (Rory Keenan), just in from Ireland and facing his first day on the job. The protagonist, a German fish cook, Peter (Tom Brooke) is having an affair with Monique (Rosie Thomson), a married waitress who is waffling badly over a decision to leave her husband. All are excellent. Other major characters are an optimistic pastry chef, played strongly by Samuel Roukin, and Mr. Marengo (Bruce Myers), the often-bewildered owner of the establishment.

Blue flames from the ranges, and steam from pots adds to the realism and the tension, and as the disparate Europeans, with their own axes to grind, their own politics and philosophies to promote, build to a powerful climax.

The Kitchen, shot in performance by the National Theatre, plays today (Oct. 29) and next Saturday (Nov. 5) at 11 a.m. at the Tivoli

-- Joe

Taking Shelter

Horror stories, especially when diverted to the movie screen, usually get boring rather soon, at least in my opinion. Every once in a while, however, someone breaks out of the old mold and we get something interesting, even fascinating. Such is the case with "Take Shelter," where Jeff Nichols' screenplay brings reality so close to imagination that he has created a gripping movie. It opens here today.

Actually, Nichols scores on two levels. His story is sometimes scary, and its various aspects bump into one another often enough to keep it that way. As a director, Nichols brings an amazing performance from actor Michael Shannon, one that I think will make him a factor in the Academy Award race.

Shannon, as Curtis, a construction worker, is not matinee-idol handsome. He has a certain amount of ruggedness, and a touch of awkwardness, that make him appear very average. At a bus stop, he'd probably be unnoticeable. Jessica Chastain, as his wife, Samantha, is a perfect match. She's pretty, but not striking, and she's just as average as he is.

Both rise above that when it comes to their daughter, Hannah (Tova Stewart), who is deaf. Their love for her is the most obvious thing about them, but it's a private issue; only the neighbors might know how much time and affection they bestow upon her.

And then, Curtis begins to dream. He sees and hears storms, he's rained upon with a light brown liquid that looks like 10W-50 motor oil. The storm is fierce, with sky-wide lightning, vicious peals of thunder, scary winds. When he wakes, he's disconcerted, bathed in sweat, thinking about the storm, frightened by it. One dream sees him attacked by his dog, and he takes unnatural action that receives an unnatural lack of attention.

Two coincidences push the plot forward. A minor one is the existence of an old-fashioned storm cellar on his property. Curtis begins to improve and expand it. A major one is the introduction of his mother (a splendid performance by Kathy Baker). She's in an institution whose purpose is falsely ameliorated by the attached, euphemistic description, "assisted-living facility." She's a paranoid scizophrenic, having been diagnosed in her mid-30s. Guess how old Curtis is.

One of the things that Nichols does to bring the story of "Taking Shelter" up a few notches is the character of Curtis. He resists seeking treatment, tries to shrug off the aura of his mother, but is concerned. He studies the disease, talks to physicians, but becomes more fearful of his dreams. He is driven to complete the shelter, so driven that he destroys the loyal friendship of his co-worker, Dewart (steady, right-on work by Shea Wigham), alienates his kind, right-thinking boss (Robert Longstreet), frightens the loving Samantha. Nichols builds the tension excellently, using special effects sparingly but effectively and takes us to a very scary climax. An excellent film.

Taking Shelter opens today on many screens

-- Joe

Sholom Aleichem: Laughing in the Dark

Sholom Aleichem, who proved that Yiddish could be a language of literature as well as of the streets, made and lost many fortunes as a market investor in the days before insider trading. He created a character named Menachem Mendl who echoed his, and his father's, roller-coaster financial lives, even as he later created Tevye, the dairyman who talks to God while he delivers milk and cheese, and seeks husbands for his four daughters.

"Sholom Aleichem: Laughing in the Dark," is a charming, fascinating documentary film, written and directed by Joseph Dorman, and opening here today. With musty old newsreel footage, engaging narration by Alan Rosenberg and character-creation by such as Peter Riegert and Rachel Dratch, it's a fascinating tale of a man whose newspaper fiction was nearly as popular as the serials written by Charles Dickens a half-century earlier.

Born Sholom Rabinovich in 1859, he adopted the pen-name Sholom Aleichem, which can translate as "peace be with you" or just a simple greeting. He lived within the Pale (an area in Russia reserved for Jews). He experienced pogroms as a child and as a man, and he defused problems with humor. Menachem Mendel (Jason Kravitz), a man patterned after both Aleichem and his father, obsessed with get-rich-quick schemes that turned to dust, became the subject of many stories, some told in exchanges of correspondence with his down-to-earth wife, Shayna Sheyndl (Dratch).

Riegert portrays Tevye, a character/narrator of family stories and later the hero of "Fiddler on the Roof," a story that became a 1939 movie and the classic 1964 musical. When Dorman brings in some scenes from the 1971 movie, Topol is in the role, though the great Zero Mostel developed the character on stage.

Sheldon Harnick, the lyricist of "Fiddler," tells of using Aleichem's own words, sometimes adapted, as when he changed "If I were a Rothschild," to "If I were a rich man."

Aleichem emigrated to the United States in 1905 after living through one-too many pogroms, writing for the Yiddish newspapers in New York. Scholars also are interviewed on the writer's literary accomplishments and stories about his life, like the night two of his plays opened in New York, only for both receive scathing newspaper reviews the next day. Also interviewed is his grand-daughter, writer/teacher Bel Kaufman, author of "Up the Down Staircase," and now 100 years old. Aleichem died in 1916, and 200,000 people reportedly lined the New York streets in one of the largest-ever assemblages of mourners.

The movie is a labor of love for Dorman, but also a tribute to the man who kept the dying language of Yiddish alive for several extra generations.

Sholom Aleichem: Laughing in the Dark opens today at the Plaza Frontenac

-- Joe

The Rum Diary

Johnny Depp obviously is a great fan of Hunter S. Thompson, who invented gonzo journalism with his series of "Fear and Loathing. . . ." reports for Rolling Stone. Depp portrayed the Thompson character, Raoul Duke, in "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," met him during the filming. Later, Depp helped arrange for the publication of an early Thompson novel, "The Rum Diary," and has returned as the Thompson character, Paul Kemp, in the movie version that opens today.

"The Rum Diary," another tale of a reporter-drunk that casts no glory on reporters, is a fitfully entertaining movie, with Depp as a reporter who uses a phony resume and recommendation to get a job at the San Juan (Puerto Rico) Star, then gets involved with good guys and bad guys, lots of rum and lots of drugs. When he is interviewed for the job, and asked if he drank, the answer is, "Let's say I'm at the upper end of social."

Depp, as always, ranges from pretty good to very good, and Bruce Robinson, who directs and wrote the screenplay, has put together a fine cast, including Michael Rispoli as Sala, the photographer; Giovanni Ribisi as the ever-helpful Moburg; the excellent Richard Jenkins as the frustrated editor and Depp's boss; Aaron Eckhart as the villainous Sanderson; and the lovely Amber Heard as Chenault, Sanderson's gorgeous blonde girl friend who falls in unrequited lust with Depp.

There are a handful of good chase scenes, especially one involving a motorcycle, some ludicrous discussions involving a Puerto Rican land deal involving the ares where the U.S. military does target practice, and a rather funny drug scene. This involves drug delivery by eye drops and, thanks to the special effects folks, a sequence when Ribisi's tongue comes about a foot out of his mouth, frightening Depp into saying, "Your tongue is like an accusatory giblet."

That makes as much sense as the movie.

The Rum Diary opens today on several screens.

-- Joe

Black Power Mixtape 1967-75

In 1967, a group of Swedish television journalists traveled to the U.S. to do a series of reports on a troubled society. They arrived here in the spring of 1968, when it sometimes seemed that our nation was falling apart. Martin Luther King Jr., and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. were assassinated, cities were in flames, the Democratic convention in Chicago saw a collapse of law and order, racism still was rampant.

Anyway, the Swedes had a lot of opportunities, shot a lot of video. Some was used back home in Sweden, most was put in storage. "Black Power Mixtape, 1967-75," opening today, is like a look into a history book -- it was about a half-century ago -- and a lesson on what has happened during that time. And what has not happened.

There are a lot of interview opportunities, and the people being interviewed spoke passionately to the Swedes who seemed more tolerant, or more ignorant, of what was happening here. Interviews with Angela Davis, Stokely Carmichael, Bobby Seale and others are a powerful indictment of most American practices and attitudes at the time.

Bron Robinson wrote and directed, and for those who did not live through the period, and even some who did, this is a worthy reminder.

Black Power Mixtape 1967-75 opens today at the Tivoli.

-- Joe

PW Pizza

There's a certain pizza-cooking aroma that we sometimes catch, one that goes back to our adolescent years and early encounters with the ethereal pie. Whenever it comes, we salivate and if we're about to enter a restaurant, it tends to raise our expectations. The expectations aren't always met, however; we've learned that scent is no guarantee of good pizza.

Happily, the greeting by pizza smell when we neared the door of PW Pizza was not a false hype. Located on the ground floor of the building that holds Vin de Set and the event space Moulin, its interior brick walls bear murals of old St. Louis brewery labels, particularly apt because the building once was a brewery. (Imagine how many there must have been in Germanic St. Louis at one time!) Even on a night early in the week, couples, families and solos were busily knocking back the pizza. There are salads, and even a few sandwiches on the menu. But pizza often says “wings” to us, and PW's wings are roasted, a nice change. A dry rub adds to the fun, but the seasoning doesn't make these out of bounds for the hot-pepper-phobic. Most of the time we find that the usual blue cheese or ranch dressing adds little to chicken wings. Not the case here. It was a wow, the ranch dressing laced with chipotle and black pepper, plus the expected tartness. Exceptionally nice, and a superior pairing with the moist, tasty wings.

When it comes to pizza, the number of possible creations is mind-boggling. Three kinds of crust. Six possible sauces. Ten cheeses, including one that's vegan. Eighteen vegetable toppings. And eleven meat/fish offerings for the pizza, but no anchovies. (What's up with that?) Wowsa, nevertheless. Plenty of imagination in the suggested combinations, too, and we went with the Creole Connection on the original crust. The pizza wore tomato sauce, shrimp, sliced chorizo sausage, roasted jalapenos, red onion and monterey jack and mozzarella cheeses. Roasting and seeding the jalapeno pepper tamed its heat to the point where some bites were spicy and some were not; overall it was an extremely successful dish. The crust is pretty much New York style, medium thickness with enough body to do the traditional crust-to-point fold.

Four kinds of calzone, too, including a veggie (their word, not ours, thanks). About the size of Ann's two fists, the dough seemed a little sweeter than that on our pizza, and perhaps was the honey wheat dough. Stuffed full with wild mushrooms, spinach, roasted red peppers and caramelized onions. Oh, and cheese. Serious cheese, herb ricotta, mozzarella and parmesan, gooey and rich, and plenty of flavor from the vegetables. The marinara dipping sauce alongside was so chunky it really didn't cling well to the calzone, defeating its purpose. In addition, its relatively simple flavors didn't add much to a tasty dish.

Difficult as it may be, we strongly suggest enough self-control to leave room for dessert. (Leftover pizza is the real breakfast of champions. You do know the best way to reheat it is in a skillet with a lid? Crisps the crust, warms the cheese. But we digress.) The most unusual one on the menu is the chocolate cake made with Urban Chestnut Stout. Dark chocolate layers covered in a generous coat of thick and equally dark chocolate frosting, all lifted from merely pleasant to remarkable by the inclusion of the stout, which pairs up with the chocolate to deepen its flavor and add some woodsy notes of its own. It also holds down the sweetness. We liked it a lot.

Plenty of inexpensive wine choices and a large beer list that currently includes draft pear cider from Fox Barrel, which makes pear cider exclusively. Good service from an on-the-ball server who answered all questions despite a busy night.

 

PW Pizza

2017 Chouteau Ave

314-241-7799

www.pwpizza.com

Lunch & Dinner daily

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: No

Entrees: $8-$16

Margin Call

I think that Kevin Spacey is a great actor, but even great actors can't do much with a poor script, and that's why he's such a disappointment in "Margin Call," a movie that was supposed to be this year's "Wall Street," but ended up somewhere on Skid Row.

Spacey is Sam Roberts, way up in the corner-office hierarchy of a Wall Street firm. He's a good leader, popular with those who work for him, trusted by his own bosses, like John Fuld (Jeremy Irons). But J. C. Chandor, the writer and director, saddles Spacey with a script that is trite in its opening scenes, and so much so in the closing one that I was ready to run from the theater, screaming "Trite! Trite! Trite!"

Chandor's screenplay will be familiar to anyone who has read or watched the news in the last few years. The firm has been selling securities that have no value, and the roof is about to fall in. Many jobs will be lost, and the firing line will look familiar to a lot of people. Some, who have broken laws, may go to prison, but in today's American banking and legal system, this does not seem much of a possibility.

The cast is good, with Demi Moore as the killer-witch, Stanley Tucci as the man who starts unraveling the ball of twine, Zachary Quinto excellent as the young number-cruncher who takes it the rest of the way.

The problem is that Chandor's writing relies on the cliche, and almost nothing will come as a surprise.

Margin Call opens today on a number of screens

-- Joe

Toast

Nigel Slater is an English chef and writer who had an unhappy childhood for many reasons -- his beloved Mum died after a lingering illness when he was young; he and Dad didn't get along very well; he hated his step-Mum and he was concerned about his sexuality.

That's enough to write a book about after you've grown up and become successful, and calling it "Toast," is a slap at, or a salute to, Mum, who apparently could cook nothing else.

The movie, which opens today, is surprisingly flat, though the food-preparation scenes are good and there's a striking performance by Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Potter, a been-there, done-that woman who sets her cap for Dad, played with proper stuffiness by Ken Stott. As a pudgy, chain-smoking, bright blonde who does housework in heels, Carter is a joy to watch as she battles Slater for pre-eminence in the house. Slater is played by Oscar Kennedy as a nine-year-old and by Freddie Highmore as a grown-up. Slater himself does some of the voice-over narration, as does Kennedy.

Mum is an invalid, and she has absolutely no talent in the kitchen. Many meals arrive in obvious disarray, looking as if everything either was overcooked or undercooked, and the usual result befits the title.

Shortly after Mum dies, and Dad and Nigel mourn, Mrs. Potter shows up to clean the house. Cleaning extends to cooking and baking, and the toaster is banished. Dad begins to show some interest in the brash blonde, and Nigel is in turmoil, especially after he learns that he can cook, too.

If, as the Duke of Wellington said, "Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton," here's a battle on the playing fields of eatin'.

Toast opens today at the Plaza Frontenac

-- Joe

Blackthorn

Maybe it's true that only the good die young. Remember when we saw Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid meet their deaths in a hail of bullets? Well, the magic of movies strikes again. We just thought that he died -- because here's "Blackthorn," set some years later in 1927 in Bolivia, and here's Butch, going as James Blackthorn in the movie that opens today. It's aimed at an older audience that remembers the first movie with nostalgic love, and which still wishes John Wayne would make more.

It's an okay movie, and Sam Shepard, grizzled and slightly gimpy in the title role, always is fun to watch. The story isn't good enough, and it's easily predictable, and, of course, Shepard gets to fool around with a young and comely girl friend, played by Magaly Solier.

But as our hero grows older, he has a yearning to see San Francisco again, maybe because he left before the earthquake and wants to see what happened. There's no other reason that makes any sense. But on the way, he meets a convict on the run, so he pairs up with Eduardo Apocada (Eduardo Noriega), and they have some adventures, too.

Mateo Gil directs, and has a good eye for the beauties of the countryside. It's nice to see a South American western, and while the geography is different, the story is not.

Blackthorn opens today at the Tivoli

-- Joe