For Example

I said I had things three weekends in a row, and three things each week (one a day for two of the weeks, and two in one day, and one on another day, for the third week) the past two weekends, but nothing this coming weekend.  And I added "Yet."  Well, now I do.

And I don't keep track of the things I either don't have room for, or don't choose to attend.

So this coming weekend, the Village has an Earth Day celebration on Saturday night, March 22, at 8:00.  It'll be live music of some sort, and general socializing.  Barbara Watts sent out the notice/invitation, and there was something there about leaving lights off.  Barbara might be a purist about not using electricity during our Earth Day celebration, but it had a kind of charm to it.  I'm not sure Barbara said, but I guess it would be further charming if we walked there (it's at the log cabin -- of course, I suppose) than if we drove.

I have pretty much stopped going to things on Miami Beach.  Most of my upbringing was there, and in my opinion, it has deteriorated.  It doesn't feel like "home" any more.  I did used to go to some events at the band shell on Collins at 73rd St, but I guess I mostly quit, because it's outside, so somewhat unpredictable, weather-wise, and sometimes noisy, traffic-wise, and I don't agree to pay Eventbrite, which is their ticket selling system.  Although they did erect a large tent or umbrella-like structure, so you don't get soaked if it does rain.

But this coming Sunday, March 23, is a flamenco show done by one of my favored groups -- Ballet Flamenco La Rosa -- so I decided to go.  It'll be at 7:00 in the late afternoon (now that we've switched the clocks, and it's what was recently 6:00 in the afternoon.  I contacted them to let them know I do not want to buy tickets online, because I do not want to pay the Eventbrite "junk fee," but that I'd pay cash when I get there.  I had forgotten that I donate to them, and the woman who founded, runs, and choreographs for BFLR, said I could have complimentary tickets.  I said I don't want complimentary tickets.  I want to pay for them.  Donating is not my way of paying in advance for tickets.  It's my way of giving an organization I treasure more of what they need to keep the gears working.  They need the ticket sales, and they need the grants and donations, too.  And I've been to enough of BFLR's shows to know I'll get more than my money's worth.

So, if you're wondering, I have nothing the following week.  Yet.  But my son and his girlfriend are coming from Colorado to visit me, and that will be more pleasing than five cultural events.  (The next weekend, though...)  Next week Friday is March 28, the last Friday in March.  My son and his girlfriend are leaving that day, but I don't know what time I have to take them to the airport.  The last Friday of every month is the free jazz concert at MOCA at 7:00.  It's been an age since I attended one.  I have no idea who's performing.  I generally don't care, and I just have gone for the pleasant surprise.  So who knows.

"D.E.I."

Last night, I went to a dance show.  It was my favorite group, Dimensions Dance Theater of Miami.  The style is based on ballet, and it's mixed with some modern dance.

The special feature of last night's show was that there were four choreographers, and they were all women.  DDTM usually uses a combination of choreographers, and most of them are usually men.  Last night's show, and the dance pieces, were fabulous.  One of the choreographers was one of DDTM's regular dancers.

Tonight, I went to a show called "American Patchwork Quartet."  The leader of the group was a typical Caucasian man, from S Carolina, and he played guitar and sang.  The bass player was from Japan.  The drummer was African American and came from the mid-west.  The other member of the quartet was a woman from India, and she sang.  The leader and the Indian woman appeared to have founded this group, and they talked about how they wanted to blend and incorporate styles.  At one point, the Indian woman sang what she said was a very well known raga (sort of spiritual song), and it was 3000 years old.  The leader mentioned "D.E.I."  The fact is that the only styles of music that were originally and uniquely American are blues, country, and jazz, all of which were begun by African Americans.

Tomorrow night, I'm going to a concert of classical Indian music in Broward County.

This raises the question of what "D.E.I." means.  This country used to call itself a "melting pot," so we had no resistance to mixing things, including the people who were here.  We have been diverse, our own Constitution guarantees equity, or equality (which we increased and perfected by making African Americans and women equal to Caucasian men), and we include anyone.  We accepted from France a Statue of Liberty that symbolizes D.E.I., and we ourselves added to it a poem by Emma Lazarus, making our D.E.I. position unambiguous.

One of the peculiar characteristics of the people who complain about D.E.I. is that they say either that unqualified people who are diverse are given positions for which they are not fit, or that this country is somehow supposed to be Caucasian male-centric.  The latter despite the clear and contradicting language of our own Constitution.  (Unless some people are literal and concrete enough to think "all men are created equal" only refers to males.)  And people are not given positions for which they are not fit.  The only complaint anyone could try to make is that given more applicants than positions, under D.E.I., the applicant who is not a Caucasian male would preferentially be given the position.

But none of those people complained about what they think is unfairness when only Caucasian males were given positions.  So they're being selfish, dishonest, or both.

But that has to be their problem.  We do try to address our mistakes and imperfections, and we will continue.  In the meantime, on a small scale, I went to a wonderful show last night, another tonight, and I have been to enough classical Indian music shows to know tomorrow night's show will be purely pleasing, too

What Almost All Of You Missed Last Weekend. What You're Preparing to Miss This Coming Weekend. And the Next.

 It's endless, and for me, it's a matter of what I don't want to do, or can't do (because of conflicting commitments), more than it is what I do want to do.  I want to do almost all of it.  I've whittled down certain things because of certain differences or even antipathies, so those restrictions are categorical.  But it still leaves me with more to do than I can sometimes do.  I've had artistic differences with Miami Symphony Orchestra, so I don't go there any more, and Nu Deco, so I don't go there.  I love Seraphic Fire, but I could no longer tolerate the hard wood seats, and sitting in churches creeps me out.

This past weekend, the Twyla Tharp group were performing at South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center (mosscenter.org).  I had a choice of when to go.  I chose Sunday afternoon, because I had other shows Friday night and Saturday night.  Friday night was Dance NOW! Miami.  Robert and Lauren Caban were there.  Good for them.  It was a wonderful show, choreographed exclusively, I think, by the founders of Dance NOW! Miami, Diego Salterini and Hannah Baumgarten.  I took issue only with the last piece, which was about repression and censorship in Portugal, and I would have structured it differently.  It was energetic and happy in ways it should have been increasingly empty and despairing, considering the theme.  But the dancing was great, as was the music.  The ticket price was $40, parking was free, and the show was in downtown Miami Shores (Miami Theater Center), which is very close to us.

Saturday night, I went to Pinecrest for Orchestra Miami's yearly "Beethoven on the Beach."  Well...  There was very little Beethoven (much more Haydn, Mozart, and a world premiere of something new), and it wasn't on the Beach.  The night before had been on Miami Beach, but I couldn't go, because I was at MTC seeing Dance NOW! Miami. It was a supremely good concert, tickets and parking were free, and the only catch was that you had to go to Pinecrest to see and hear it.  It was worth it.

Sunday afternoon, I was at SMDCAC, as I said.  It was a very fine show.  I think my ticket was about $24 (volume discount applied), parking was free, and the staff there are ALWAYS top notch.

So that was this past Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday afternoon.

I've already talked about this coming Saturday, because it's my birthday.  I had three options, and I chose two.  The third conflicted with my evening show, and you can't do everything.  So I'm going to Sandrell Rivers Theater at 61st St and NW 7th Ave for a Karen Peterson show (she specializes in using selected disabled "dancers" among her ensemble) in the afternoon.  It's not too far from here, tickets for that show -- I've seen many of hers, and they're all terrific -- are $20 (she ought to charge more), parking is free, and the staff are great.  One of my friends is going with me, and her sister is in town, so the three of us will go.  Then, we'll find dinner someplace, and we have the Spanish Harlem Orchestra at SMDCAC at night.  That's the only one with a respectable ticket price of over $50 each.  Although I could have paid more for a better seat at Twyla Tharp, but I decided to conserve money.  I would go broke attending, or trying to, everything there is to attend in Dade County.

This coming Sunday morning, we have a Village Farmers' Market event at 10:30, and I just have to be home for a patient at 1:00.

Friday, March 14, is Dimensions Dance Theatre of Miami.  $40, free parking, A+++ staff.  I generally try never, ever to miss those.  This one is at SMDCAC.  The only ones I miss are the ones at Sanctuary of the Arts in Coral Gables.  A story for another time.  Saturday, March 15, is the "American Patchwork Quartet," also at SMDCAC.  And also $40.  I pay less for those, because of my volume discounts down there.  And Sunday, March 16, is an Indian classical music concert at 5:30 in Broward.  I don't pay for those tickets, because I give them instead a donation worth much more than the ticket price.  Also free parking, but you have to go to SW Ranches in Broward to get there.  There's Indian food, though.

It's entirely fair to say that it's not commonly three days in a row, three weeks in a row, for me.  And the weekend after March 16, I have nothing.  Yet.  I used to have more, because I used to subscribe to more things.  But it's pretty common for people to say that if you want cultural things to do, you have to go to NYC.  I tell them they're out of their minds.  There's more to do here than you can do, and more than you want to do.  It's top notch, too.  And it's relatively easy, if you include driving to Cutler Bay as easy, with low prices, and generally easy and often enough free parking.  I don't go to the Arsht any more, because they overcharge for tickets, use TicketMaster, and the parking is very annoying, expensive, or both.  But there's plenty going on there, too. I've stopped going to things at Miami-Dade County Auditorium, also because they use TicketMaster or Eventbrite.  I've also mostly stopped going to things on the Beach, although I admit they have good plays at the Colony Theater.  I used to go to Miami Jazz Cooperative when their shows were every Monday in downtown Coral Gables, but they've moved, and I just don't feel like going to near Sunset Place any more.  I probably should, because I love MJC.  And I used to go to WDNA's jazz concerts, which were either cheap for the general public or free for donors (I donate $5 a month), and occur at their station on Coral Way on some Tuesday of the month, but I just have enough to do.  And I should take my monthly last Friday night of the month walk over to MOCA for their free jazz concert, but I seem to have lost the rhythm (excuse the pun) for it.  I've seen/heard some great concerts over there.  If you don't feel like walking, that parking is free, too.

(At Least One) Step in the Right Direction!

Yesterday morning, I was taking my exercise walk around the Village.  On 119th St, coming east from Griffing, there was a large project going on to remove Australian Pines.  In the afternoon, I was driving south on 10th Avenue from 119th St, and in the first couple of blocks, some other large Australian Pines were in large cut pieces.  Somebody's decided to go to town on Australian Pines!

The last time we had significant tree-trimming project was before 2016, when Heidi Siegel was the Manager.  I'm going to take the liberty to assume that 1) removal of these Australian Pines was Al Childress' idea, and 2) that the Commission didn't try to stand in his way.  (Which, frankly, it couldn't.)

This is great news.  In at least the past 10 years, Australian Pines have been falling down.  And they're not native to our part of the world.  They were planted by Arthur Griffing, because they soak up a lot of water, which was an advantage to him, because it created more sellable land.  Griffing was very interested in sellable land.  Lots are mostly small here, and there are essentially no sidewalks (except around the recreation building and fields).  He wanted to milk the Village for land to sell.

And Australian Pines not only don't provide much shade, but what they do "provide" is sap, which drips onto the ground, and kills anything that would otherwise grow there.

I haven't asked around, but I'm practically salivating in temptation to imagine that Al, or someone, also wants us to have medians that don't look shockingly embarrassing.  Boy, would that be a huge further step in the right direction. What if the medians looked nice, and also had enough development that people couldn't drive over them to avoid having to go all the way to the end of a short block to take a U-turn?  And if people couldn't park on them?  I've been fussing about this for almost 20 years, and it's sort of disorienting to think someone actually cares, about the medians and about the Village.  Frankly, I had sort of given up.

And what's next?  Do we re-institute police patrolling on 6th Avenue, and even bring back the "Don't Even Think About Speeding" signs?

You see what I mean about disorienting.  It's like living in a self-respecting municipality.  This will take some getting used to.  First, we refused to do glaring things to uplift ourselves, and in the past 9+ years, we've elected one tragic Commission after another.  Are we turning ourselves around, and into something we've never had the vision to be?  If we are, I might have to consider offering to donate another sculpture.

How Can I Phrase This Question? Oh, Yeah. Where (the Fuck!) Were You?

I attend Indian (South Asian) music and dance presentations almost always under the same circumstance: the Association of Performing Arts of India (APAI) puts on a show somewhere in Broward.  Sometimes, it's at a restaurant, and dinner is included, and sometimes, it's at an auditorium.  The shows are always classical Indian music, which has nothing to do with classical European or American music.  In fact, I'm going to one of those shows on Sunday, March 16, in the late afternoon.  I love Indian music, and my favorite food is Indian food.  But that's not where I was tonight.

Tonight, I was at my favorite cultural venue in the world: South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center.  (I won't call it the Moss Center any more than I'll call the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America.  If he wasn't so out to lunch, he would have had a pow-wow, and asked what other bordering countries thought about the Gulf of the Americas.  But he is so out to lunch.  So no.  It's the Gulf of Mexico.  And SMDCAC.)

And tonight's performers were Sunny Jain and the Wild, Wild East.  It's hard to know how to describe this show.  Sunny Jain plays drums.  He mostly plays a western kit, but he plays one Indian drum, too.  And he mixes in some Indian history and his family's history between songs.  He's got an electric guitar player.  This is not a rock and roll sound, like Thermal and a Quarter, which is a wonderful Indian group.  This guitar player somehow gets a strange sound that's tinged with a sitar echo out of his guitar.  It was gorgeous.  The bass player played a five string bass, and he didn't look impressive, but his technique was almost hypnotic.  He wasn't quite as pyrotechnic as Mohini Dey (you can watch her on youtube), but close.  I don't think the woodwind player was South Asian at all.  Tonight, she played alto saxophone and flute.  Eric Fliss, the magician of SMDCAC, told me he'd seen her play soprano saxophone once, too.  She was a very prominent part of this ensemble.  But the paralyzer was the singer.  He didn't speak, so I don't know if he had an accent.  But he was a hell of an Indian singer.  It was a combination of the vocal gymnastics and the hand movements.  Very Indian.  And he was captivating.  He danced, he jumped down from the stage and sang, he somehow jumped back onto the stage, and he was generally untethered to anything.

The style of the music was a combination of some classical echos, something close to rock and roll, and some Bollywood.  And like Bollywood, Sunny Jain sometimes wanted the audience to get out of our seats, sometimes to dance, and once, he asked as many of us as wanted to to come up on the stage, which at least a score of the audience did.

This was very energetic.  It was exhilarating.  It was captivating.

I sat next to a couple who had sat next to me a week or two ago at some other SMDCAC show.  I met up with another couple who are friends of mine (but they don't live up here in BP).  Eric Fliss and his wife, Roberta, were there.  So, being impressed in concert (excuse the pun) was how we spent the intermission.  I also found out from my friends how a GableStage play ended.  It was last week, and it was so painful that I left at intermission.  Apparently, it remained ill-tempered and painful to the end, without resolution.  I'm glad I left.

Anyway, SMDCAC is the place to be.  It's the very best place to be.  The long drive is 100% worth it.  Performers commonly bring things to sell.  I couldn't possibly find any way to use yet another tee shirt, but I did get two souvenir CDs.  If you have a player, and you want to know what this show sounded like, you can borrow them.  But you have to promise on your life I'll get them back in the same condition they were in when you borrowed them.

"The Arts Are Not a Luxury. They Are a Necessity."

Not everyone looks at it that way, but all patrons of the arts do.

I bought a $40 ticket to a Dance NOW! Miami event, and there was an opportunity to add a donation.  So I rounded up to $100.  I don't go to as many of their productions as I used to, because scheduling doesn't always permit it, and they don't have a fixed and reliable season.  So I deal with it this way.  Two days ago, I went to a spectacular event presented by Martha/Mary Concerts, and I donated $100 to them, too.  The ticket was only $25, and they couldn't figure out (and I didn't remember) if I had already paid in advance.  So I paid either $100 or $125.  It was worth it either way.

Today, I got an e-mail from Dance NOW! Miami, essentially thanking me for my donation.  The e-mail was as follows: "Thank you for your donation of $60.00 on February 4, 2025.

As we celebrate our 25th Anniversary Season, Dance NOW! Miami remains committed to inspiring, entertaining, and educating our community through the transformative power of dance. For a quarter of a century, we have thrived, and, despite the current funding challenges, with your support, we are planning a season to remember!

The arts are not a luxury; they are a necessity. They create jobs, drive tourism, foster community engagement, and enrich our lives in immeasurable ways. With your support, we can continue to bring exceptional performances to our stages and provide invaluable opportunities for artists, students and audiences alike. THANK YOU FOR BELIEVING, AS WE DO, IN THE TRANSFORMATIVE POWER OF THE ARTS!"

We've probably had this conversation before, but the arts are under siege in Florida. Ronnie DeSantis cut off all grants to all arts, reportedly because he thinks they have something to do with sex (he did not publicly clarify what he thinks something like classical music, for example, has to do with sex).  Why Ronnie, who is married and has children, is terrified of sex is a mystery.  But he appears to be.  The state legislature is now accepting public comments as to whether or not they should try to overpower Ronnie.  Yes, of course I sent them a comment.

In addition, the County said it was going to withdraw support for the arts.  They got such overwhelming blowback that they canceled their plan.

ALL arts organizations meet a maximum of 30% of their budgeted expenses by selling tickets.  The rest is various grants (federal/NEA, state, county, and local municipality, as well as private granting sources like the Knight Foundation, in our area) and donations from people like you and me.  It simply doesn't happen without that.

If you think the arts are a luxury, maybe you don't care.  And if you do think that, you've clearly never been in my house.  As I've been getting older, I've been giving some things away, and I'm willing to sell some that cost too much to walk away from.  My first offerings were to my offspring.  My son declined (at first), saying he doesn't like art.  I have no concept of what this means.  Categorically not liking art is to me like categorically not liking food, or sex (sorry, Ronnie.  Some of us, you know...).  But my son and his girlfriend visited me a month or two ago, and she picked out some things she wanted.  So I gave them to her (and told her that if things didn't work out between her and my son, the things I gave her were hers).  There was just one thing she wanted that I wasn't yet ready to part with.  When the time comes...  It was then my son spotted something he wanted, so he took it.  I had already given my daughter the things she wanted.  One of my friends owns an art gallery, and he himself is an artist.  I had some things for him to try to sell for me, so he came to the house.  He also said he wanted to buy back something I bought from him years ago.  I'm willing, but he hasn't done it yet.  It's not expensive.  I think he might have wanted it for himself.  But he took the things he thought he could sell.  Another of my friends expressed an interest in buying something that cost me too much just to give away.  I said I was willing, but I haven't heard back.  It's an outdoor sculpture, and if you think art isn't a necessity, you should try coming home to that piece every day.  There are few people on earth whom I'd let have that piece, and this friend is one of them.

Or go to concerts, and dance shows, and plays.  See how often you think about them.  Just a "luxury?"  Something you could do without?  You might want to reconsider, if that's what you think.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Karen Peterson Dance company (she always uses some disabled dancers, in wheelchairs, etc: cleverly choreographed and inspired shows) is performing at Sandrell Rivers Theater at 2:00 Saturday afternoon, March 8.  It's close enough, at NW 61st St and 7th Ave, ticket prices are always low, parking is free, and the staff are as friendly as possible.  If you want to go, you can get tickets through the website, at sandrellriverstheater.com, or just buy them when you get there.  They're $20 each. Possibly with a $2 per ticket "convenience"/"facility"/junk fee.  If you want to know if a Karen Peterson show is worth $20, it's worth twice that.  And more if you don't have to pay for parking, and the staff treat you either like beloved friends or royalty.

That night, I'm going to South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center (now known as the Moss Center: mosscenter.org) to see the Spanish Harlem Orchestra at 8:00.  It's $55 (yes, plus $2) for those, but hey, it's my fucking birthday, so what do I care?  And I'll spend the evening with people who have become like good friends.  And I get the same interpersonal deal there that I get at Sandrell Rivers: there's my friend, Eric Fliss, who is the premier impresario in the world, and a super, super nice guy, his wife, Roberta, who calls him an impresario, because I do, and to razz him, Dora, if she's not stuck back in the ticketing room somewhere, Rico, Karin, Tom, various other employees whose names I don't know, but we know each other, and any patrons I know or who are familiar to me because we see each other there a lot.  I hope I see my older friends, Don and Magda, my new friends, Enrique and Lindsey, and it's been an age since I've seen Andi.  I hope she's OK.  It would be great to see her there.  I don't think I'll be at Sandrell Rivers before March 8, but I'll be at SMDCAC twice before then.

Feel free to let me know if you want to join me for either or both.  The Olive Garden is a few blocks away, inexpensive, predictable, reliable, and I always get the same thing.  Sometimes, I see Eric and Roberta there.

The Greatest Movie Ever Made

If you're going to tell me I'm very much the wrong person to form an opinion about this, because I am not a movie-goer, and I just endlessly rewatch the movies I like and own, I already know that.  I know people who can't get enough of movies.  They go to the movies A LOT.  And they like the whole movie theater ("cinema") feel of it.  I have one friend who goes to the movies EVERY Monday.  And when I have said I suppose she must see every movie that comes out, she tells me she's not even close.  Apparently, way more than 52 movies a year come out.  I know people who talk for weeks or months in advance about the Oscars, and they watch every movie that's nominated for an Academy Award.  Let me be very clear: I am not in any way one of those people.

On the radio a couple of weeks ago, I heard discussants talking about Stanley Kubrick's "Dr Stangelove."  I saw it very many years ago, and I mentioned this conversation to my friend who sees a movie every Monday.  So she did me a favor, and she brought over Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey," so we could watch it together.  It was decades after "2001" came out that I decided to watch it, and I forced myself through it, so I could say I watched it.  It was one of the very worst movies I have ever seen: idiotic story, terrible acting, poor directing, caricaturish special effects.  The music was good, but that had nothing to do with the film-makers.  Once had been way more than enough, so I refused to watch it again.  The next time I saw my friend, she had acquired from ebay a copy of "Dr Strangelove," which we watched, and which she gave to me, since she doesn't have a DVD player.  It was a somewhat good movie, enhanced by the fact that Peter Sellers played three very distinct parts, with different accents, and was to play a fourth, but he couldn't pull it all off.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand, which is the title of this post.  The easy answer, which would have spared me from writing this post, is "how should I know?"  But if I had wanted it to be that easy, I wouldn't be doing this.

A year or more ago, I wrote a post which I called "The G.O.A. T."  It was about the best professional basketball player ever, and I said there was sort of no such thing, because basketball is a team sport.  That's less true of movies, because there's a fixed finished product, and a collection of people work hard together to make it whatever they want it to be.  A basketball player can be good with any team, or s/he can be better with one group of teammates, and coaches, and trainers, than with another.  In the old movie days, they used to list a few people (cast, writer, director, and maybe a couple of others).  Today, credits go on for minutes.  The viewer doesn't even know what some of these people (the "grip," etc) do.  But somehow, they're part of the end product.

And there's the question of who decides, and how, what movies, directors, writers, composers, costumers, etc, are best.  Do you want to ask the "experts?"  In 1979, the "Best Actress in a Leading Role" Academy Award went to Sally Field, who was Norma Rae in "Norma Rae."  If you want to know who didn't get that award that year, it was Bette Midler in "The Rose."  As it happens, I've seen both movies.  You show me any actress who was ever better, in anything, than was Bette Midler in "The Rose," and I'll be very curious.  It wasn't even close.  But that's not how "The Academy" voters saw it.  

I said I have a collection of movies (mostly DVDs, and a bunch of videocassettes, too).  I've acquired more over the years, but I don't keep the ones that don't interest me as much.  I should also say I have "requisites" in movies I like.  (I put requisites in quotes, because I don't always honor them.  For example, I don't like violence, horror, too much swearing, and gratuitous sex in movies.  But as it turns out, I love some movies that violate some of those restrictions.  Many years ago, I watched "Snatch" every day for a week, because I love it, even though it's loaded with violence and bad attitude.)

So, what's the best movie ever made?  Even if the question was narrowed to "in my opinion," it would be hard to answer.  Some are commonly talked about, like "Citizen Kane," which didn't do much for me.  There are great classics -- well, more modern classics -- like "Chinatown" and "The Sting."  Fabulous.  But I had gotten myself somewhat comfortable thinking of "Big Fish" as the best movie ever made.  Sure, the animation or engineering of the huge catfish was not as perfect as it could have been, but overall, the movie was so spectacular that I have been comfortable to let it take the top spot.  Amazing story-telling, acting, directing, and whatever else goes into all those credits.  Sort of until... I just rewatched "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri."  I'm captivated by any role Frances McDormand acts (and this one wasn't even Coen Brothers), Woody Harrelson was spectacular, Sam Rockwell was totally obnoxious, in a very engaging way, the directing was as good as it could have been, and every other part of that movie was...I don't know...perfect.  Even with the violence, bad attitude, and swearing.  And Peter Dinklage had a part that was very unusual for him.

I love my old Sherlock Holmes movies (Basil Rathbone, mostly from the '40s), and my new ones (Benedict Cumberbatch, from the '00s), but they all have imperfections.  Except for Basil Rathbone.  He was never imperfect.

If you suggest that "Micmacs" should be up there, I won't argue, assuming you're willing to read subtitles.  The same goes for "Tous Les Matins Du Monde."  "Mrs Henderson Presents?"  Or "Philomena," or anything else with Judi Dench and/or Bob Hoskins and/or probably even Steve Coogan?  All up there.  And "Chinatown," as annoying as I often find Jack Nicholson to be, and "The Sting."  I don't mean for an instant to slight "The Birdcage," "The Big Lebowski," "Butcher Boy," "Farinelli," or probably anything touched by Terry Gilliam.  There are really lots of great movies.

But I'm sticking with "Big Fish" and "Three Billboards..."  If you think there's something better, you can let me know what it is.

Seriously, What Are You Doing With Your Life?

Tonight at SMDCAC, it was the Andrew Collins Trio.  The trio was Andrew Collins, Adam someone-or-other, and James MacKay.  They're from Canada.

As is weirdly true of Canadians, they have a penchant for southern US bluegrass and country music.  They even sing some of it with what approximates southern US accents.  (The Canadian members of "The Band" also had a penchant for southern US bluegrass and country music.  In case you didn't know, Garth Hudson, the last surviving member of "The Band," died last week.)

Andrew, Adam, and James sort of rotated instruments.  Andrew mostly played mandolin, although he also played mandola (a mandolin with a slightly different tuning, and an undetectable, to me, different sizing, which he likened to a viola) and "mandolin cello," which is an eight stringed instrument that looks otherwise like a guitar, and has four pairs of strings, like a mandolin does.  Adam played regular guitar and both the mandolin and the mandola, I think.  I couldn't always keep track of which mandolin-looking instrument he had.  James played upright bass, but also mandolin cello.  Andrew and James sang sometimes, and Adam sang with them on one song.

Andrew and James have been in the same band together for about 13 years.  Adam is newer in this band.

The music was totally captivating.  Andrew wrote some or most of it, although one piece started out with Bach, and another started with Debussy's "Clair de Lune."

And Andrew is also a great talker.  He introduced pieces, told a few jokes, and added some depth to the presentation.

It wouldn't have meant anything to you, but the young woman at my table, sitting with her boyfriend, recognized me from Sandrell Rivers Theater.  I had gone to a couple of "The Moth" events there, and told some stories (if you know what "The Moth" is about).  And another couple I know from SMDCAC and Sandrell Rivers was also there.  So I gave the younger couple my card, in case they want to go to some events with me, or come over for dinner, and I'll see the older couple again soon enough anyway.

Andrew was eager to sell CDs, or some book he had, or a tee shirt he had, so I got two CDs as souvenirs, and because the music was terrific.

Annie Hoffman, who introduced the Andrew Collins Trio, said something about an event tomorrow night, and I didn't have it on my calendar.  But I checked when I got home, and it's Miami City Ballet, which is not of interest.  I only go to Dimensions Dance Theater of Miami and Dance Now! Miami for ballet-based dance.

You really let this stuff get by you, huh?

What Are You Doing With Your Life?!! If You're Not Buddhist, You Understand This One Go-Around Is It.

I'm at South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center (now Dennis C Moss Cultural Arts Center) a lot.  We've talked about this many times.  It's not at all close to here.  The address is 10950 SW 211 St.  I know.  Boy, do I know.

On Friday, January 17, I was there for Cirque Kalabante.  I don't go to circuses that have non-human animals.  I've been to several Cirque Du Soleil shows, and one Circus Smirkus (the latter is in New England).  I would have said no circus is as good as Cirque Du Soleil.  Cirque Kalabante is as good, or possibly slightly better.  Its origins are somewhere in Africa, and I don't know from where all the performers come.  Some clearly had African accents.  The saxophone player had skin paler than mine.  So maybe he's not from Africa.  These people were spectacular.  The drummer, the saxophone player, and the electric bass (guitar) player only did that.  The rest were generally multi-talented.  The acrobatics were unspeakable.  It seemed none of the performers had bones, and all of them were very muscular.  One guy had neither bones nor cartilage.  His ability to contort was unimaginable.  Do it?  I couldn't even keep track of what he was doing.  And he had an amazingly engaging facial expression that left people laughing as much as they were breathless.  The guy who was sort of the MC or ringleader also played hand drums.  There were two women who also did acrobatics.  Another guy did several things, including acrobatics with a very large hoop.  They made pyramids.  They stood on each other three or four people high.  It really was breathtaking, and I felt a wish that it would never end, mixed with a wish that it would end soon, before anyone got hurt.  Which no one did.

Two days later, I was back for Allan Harris, whom I've seen there maybe twice before over the years.  He sings jazz alternating with reciting poetry.  Several of his recitations were Shakespeare, one was Maya Angelou, one Dylan Thomas, and there were others.  This time, he played guitar (great slide) during only one song.  He had a great backing ensemble, and it was different from his prior ones.  He's also a very charming and super friendly guy.  He's very flirtatious with his audience, and the energy is delightful.  He also had a female singer who's from out of town but staying here temporarily, and she was a knockout, singing-wise and in terms of appearance.  And similarly very connected to the audience, and to Harris.

Tonight (Saturday), I was there for Davina and the Vagabonds.  Davina sings and plays piano.  She's loaded with charisma, and charms her audience in a flirtatious way like Allan Harris charms his.  Someone before the show described Davina as being reminiscent, vocally, of Amy Winehouse.  I didn't hear much that put me in mind of Amy Winehouse.  I heard Mae West, Billie Holliday, Bessie Smith, Ella Fitzgerald, Maria Muldaur, Randy Newman, Peter Wolf, a little Janis Joplin, Aretha Franklin, and Gregg Allman.  I thought Davina might be in her 30s until she mentioned something from 20 years ago.  So she's in her 40s.  Her drummer looked to be in his 30s.  Her bass player looked to be in his 40s.  And her trombonist looked to be in his 50s.  Yes, I know, you want to know about her trumpet player.  OK, also looked to be maybe 50s.  OK, so you didn't care about the age.  You wanted to know about gender.  Do you want me to guess?  I'd say male, in transition.  And an excellent trumpet player.  They were all excellent musicians.  Davina said they were off to South Carolina for their next show.  I caught up with her after the show to ask about her group.  They're all her regulars except for the bassist, who's newer to the ensemble.  And he was a fabulous bassist.

These are all shows you don't want to end.  And I didn't see you there.  You missed these spectacular presentations.  Come with me.  I'll pick you up, and we can either just go to the show, or we can stop off for dinner on the way.  You won't be sorry.  mosscenter.org, pick the shows you want to see, and either let me know, so we can get seats together, or just get your own.