Is it that hard to make a quality kids movie? One that excites children’s imaginations and genuinely thrills them and their parents? It seems that for every great piece of family entertainment there are 10 designed with the sole purpose of making money, and pander to their young audience by treating them like tasteless little idiots who will be entertained just by farts and bright colors.
Emil Amos is dedicated to his craft. He’s been recording as Holy Sons since the early ’90s, committing thousands of songs to tape. He’s a percussionist and multi-instrumentalist for long-standing Portland experimental rockers Grails, and recently he’s signed on as a drummer for primo doomsters, Om. “From the beginning of my relationship with music it began to take over my entire life,” Amos says. “So I’ve ended up lodging most of my thoughts into songs.”
In sports circles, the word “sparkplug” is commonly thrown around to describe a player that energizes others with words or emotions. Then there are the players who earn the title “playmaker,” an honor that denotes an individual capable of changing a game at a moment’s notice–period.
Shanna Eller and her team of student researchers spend most days digging through your garbage. They are on the frontline of sustainability research at Portland State and deal with perhaps the most tangible aspect in the fight to reduce, reuse and recycle: solid waste reduction. Eller is the interim director of PSU’s Community Environmental Services, a nonprofit research firm housed within the Center for Urban Studies and manned by 30 graduate and undergraduate students.
Outside the office of new university President Wim Wiewel, a large sign that reads “Green–it’s more than our school color, it’s our school spirit” sits in a glass case. To the left of the light green sign’s words is a photomontage containing an array of shots that signify on-campus sustainability in one shape or another. One is of a student working in a greenhouse, another shows off the eco-roof atop the Broadway Housing Building and one of the others is a close up of a LEED certification slapped on the side of an on-campus building.
We are in the midst of Blue Giant’s takeover of Portland. This week, on hiatus from their critically acclaimed rock project, Viva Voce, Kevin and Anita Robinson (oh, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?) trot the town in style. They have a monopoly on all the city’s best venues while they play a three-show stint with a treasure trove of guest musicians.
In a series known for its psycho-sexual monsters, forays into human perversion and claustrophobic sense of unease, each new entry into the Silent Hill canon can be expected to deliver on one emotion: dread. Even in the past few years, wherein Silent Hill has reached a plateau of mainstream popularity, expeditions into the titular fog-shrouded town have remained (mostly) unsettling, if somewhat in flux. With the unfortunate success of the god-awful Hollywood adaptation and Resident Evil 4’s action-over-atmosphere approach sending ripples across the genre, the series has lately been left in the hands of strangers, some less capable than others.
How can a tale of gamblers and their ladies be culturally relevant? The overriding media reception for Portland Center Stage’s production of Guys and Dolls seems to focus on the delightful timing of producing a Depression-era showstopper in our current iffy financial climate. However, this is a flawed line of reasoning. First of all, though the musical is based on the 1930s mobster short stories of Damon Runyan, the author had no hand in writing the play. Furthermore, Guys and Dolls was written in 1950.
Late in the fourth quarter and with Portland State holding a double-digit lead over Eastern Washington, senior linebacker Andy Schantz looked at his teammates sitting next to him on the bench and screamed. “We’re different,” Schantz said while shaking his head.
It brings a smile to senior linebacker KJ McCrae’s face to talk about hitting hard, especially when he touches on the fact that in Portland State’s defense there is “no technique to it, you just hit.” During the dog days of summer leading up to the season, the Vikings defense did not spend time practicing tackling and their scrimmage sessions were usually void of full contact. This season, there have been moments when that lack of tackling may have hurt the team as opposing ball carriers have squeaked from the grasp of a Portland State defender for more yardage.
Last Friday’s Hip-Hop Live Tour revealed two facts. One was entirely expected and the other entirely surprising. The expected: Despite a strong lineup featuring Talib Kweli, David Banner and Little Brother, backed by a shit-hot live band, the Rhythm Roots All Stars, the turn out was mediocre. The crowd filled up less than half the Roseland Theater.