MONDOmagazine

Of Montreal
Skeletal Lamping
2008, Polyvinyl

By Allana Mayer

Nietzsche once likened life to a contest and declared that if anyone ever won, we’d have to kill him or her so the rest of us could keep playing. Similarly, a friend handed me a CD last week and told me by way of introduction that the band broke up after recording it — according to him, they couldn’t possibly have written better music than this album, ever, so there was no reason for them to stay together. These counter-intuitive sentiments are upsetting, but justified, in a strange way. And so it goes with Of Montreal: every time they release another album part of me rejoices, but a small voice cries “Why must it go on?!”

I suppose a bit of back story would be appropriate here: Once upon a time a love interest professed his Of Montreal fanaticism, and it became a point of contention between us. This was back pre-Sunlandic Twins, way before the transvesto-pop, the era of “Happy Little Bumblebee,” and I had never really caught on to the cynical, quirky, self-loathing melancholy their songs epitomized. Then our romance went sour (not entirely unrelated). Then, several months later, The Sunlandic Twins came out and I realized how ridiculously good it was, and had to go through this quasi-religious cycle wherein I questioned my beliefs, saw our relationship encapsulated in the obscure lyrical references, loved it, hated it, made myself sick of it. “Requiem for O.M.M. 2″ took me down and “The Repudiated Immortals” brought me back up again. You know the drill: everybody has that band, and Of Montreal is mine. And with the release of Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer, it was all brought back — same skill, same style, same symbolism, same self-imposed torture. “The Past Is A Grotesque Animal” destroyed and “We Were Born The Mutants Again With Leafling” revived. And now here they are doing it again? Why must it go on?!

All this to say that Skeletal Lamping is phenomenal, as phenomenal as their previous dance-y, synth-y, poetic, dirty, hilarious, heartbreaking releases. And I wish they could just shut up and retire already, because now I’ve got three albums (and a newfound appreciation for their back catalogue, of course) to listen to continuously for the rest of my existence, and I don’t need to be consumed by even more opportunities to pick at myself. I’m wary of sitting down and analyzing any of the songs in detail, because this will become even less of a review and more of a confessional: I’ve already hurdled over that line, as it is.

But seriously, Of Montreal, give it a rest. I concede defeat. You won the game, okay?

Miles’ Book

Hellboy: In the Chapel of Moloch
By Mike Mignola
Dark Horse, 2008

Another one of the gapping holes in my comic knowledge is Mike Mignola’s Hellboy universe. Beyond seeing the two delightful movies, I’ve spent little time with Hellboy and his special brand of demon justice. Issues like this one make me want to fill in that gap with thousands and thousands of comic book pages. I have a feeling this isn’t Mignola’s best work on Hellboy, but it’s still really good.

In this issue, Hellboy plays exorcist as he frees a painter from Moloch’s control. I’ve seen him cast similar stories, so it’s obvious why — he works so well in them. He’s charming and practical, and impressive in a fight. Also he gets to say thinks like:

Customer: When we rented the house the landlord threw the old chapel in for free.
Helboy: That should have told you something right there.

Lines like that help the issue stay light on its feet while juxtaposed with Mignola’s gloomy art. And I mean gloomy in a good way. He’s the perfect person to draw it. Might be because he created the character, world, and genre, but I couldn’t be sure. I might have to read a lot more Hellboy and find out.

I think the issue could have used a little more depth. While it’s got a complete beginning, middle, and end, I think Mignola could have dragged a little more drama or tension out of this story. Still, it serves as more a dark and comedic snack that’s perfect for Halloween.

Isaac’s Book

Zen Intergalactic Ninja #0
Written by Joe Casey
Pencilled by Lee Ferguson
Bonus Story by Robert V. Conte and Christopher G. Scalf
Devil’s Due Publishing, 2008

You get a certain image of a character built up in your mind after a time, and Zen is no different. For years he was just the extremely cool-looking little blue guy tucked away in ads for his own books over in Archie and Sonic comics, with apparently more of an environmental message than even the Archie-produced Ninja Turtles comic. And I think we all know how crazy environmental those Archie/Turtles books were, right?

Even without the years of expectation, you’re given a character named Zen: even if he is an “intergalactic ninja,” don’t you expect him to be a little, well, zen?

My mistake, because this guy is portrayed as the typical action hero with goofy one-liners and bad escape plans. Normally I’m a fan of goofy one-liners, but only when I hear them from an Arnold or a Segal, not when I’m expecting a sensitive Donatello type.

The main story is the prelude to Zen ending up on Earth I believe (this is an issue #0 after all), so we’re not given a whole lot of info to go on. Despite my character complaints, the art here is really good. There are a couple of things that aren’t clear about the action, but it’s the kind of thing that the artist will hopefully pick up in time, and maybe get a bit more exposure.

Unfortunately there is a lack of consistency between the character designs; Zen looks too different between the first and second stories, and it’s pretty off-putting. I shouldn’t be surprised though — the absolutely huge, hyper-muscled depiction of Zen on the cover glaring forward with a skull design on his belt is far and away from how Zen is supposed to look.

There’s an interesting feature included where this guy Sam Wells talks about his experiences playing through the original Nintendo Zen game. Sam didn’t have much to say beyond that it was excruciatingly hard for him, but it was still an entertaining little article, if a little long for the content included. I do have one question though. Who is Sam Wells? He’s not listed in the credits anywhere as an editor or publisher or anything. His name only appears in this article. But he does ask everyone to send in Zen letters to be published when the series starts up in December… so he’s master of the letters page? How does one get that job?

[Eds: re: "Archie/Turtles books", would that be the proper way to refer to those comics? I kinda made that up since I didn't know, and now defer to your more expert knowledge.]

Not Pictured: Marlene Dietrich up a tree.

These methods are for use at social gatherings only. The author is not responsible for any attempts to use these methods at the office, the studio, at school, or anywhere people might try to take you seriously.

By Rachel Kahn

Face it. We know all the cool kids still smoke. They’re out there, in nicotine communion, sharing deep secrets on the privacy of the front stoop. Being left out of conversation after conversation can be depressing, especially when the rest of the party isn’t as fun as you’d hoped, but that’s no reason to take up smoking. Here’s a list of alternative activities to force you outside alongside all the James Deans and Marlene Dietrichs, and into their addicted hearts.

• Fireworks – There is no way in hell they’re going to let you use them inside. Pack a few roman candles in your jacket pockets to light up any back alley confession session with your presence.
• Bubbles – Again, it’s only polite to take this soapy adventure out of the kitchen. These might be a little childish for some of you readers, but with the right level of drugs or alcohol in your system they will become magical. For bonus points, invite your favourite smokers to make smoke-filled bubbles.
• Remote-Controlled Cars – Does this seem even more childish than bubbles? You are obviously dead inside. Everyone will want to try your Hot Wheels RC 4×4 All-Terrain monster at least once, so make sure to bring extra batteries.
• Climbing Skills – If you can shimmy up a lightpost into a tree and over onto the roof, you will win friends and impress people you otherwise would never have met. Some of them might be police officers. Don’t let that get you down.
• Hackey Sack – For the traditionalist; this technique has been handed down through highschool hallways for decades. Keep one where you would keep cigarettes if you smoked them: close to your heart.

Of course, after a few successful sessions outside, you will discover that smokers mostly talk about smoking, and specifically, when they’re going to quit doing it, and all the mystery and romance will be over. But I can’t blame you for trying.

A thrilling travel and food mini-series! Not a break-up story.

By Leo K. Moncel

Japan is crazy, right? Is there any other country that looms so large in the international imagination as a haven for the bizarre? Over the years, I became so used to hearing urban legends and ridiculous-sounding cultural generalizations about Japan that I started to disbelieve by default whatever I was told about it. I became certain that people were exaggerating the national character of Japan with each new conversation about it, like a fishing story. It seemed to have become a place known for extremes, used by people as a canvas on which to project their own outlandish visions. The truth about Japan, I assumed, was probably like most things in life: far more mundane than the fantasy.

I spent three weeks in Japan at the end of August. Upon my return, the first thing I was asked by a lot of people was, “What was the most surprising thing about Japan?” My response: surprise that it did actually conform to almost every outlandish-sounding generalization I’d rejected. It’s all there in smashing contradiction: neon lights, ancient temples, traditionalism, futurism, monoculturalism, fascination with the rest of the world, and crowds upon crowds. The surprise of Japan was that it was every bit as extreme as everyone had said it was.

If you think of tourism as a feast for the senses (and I have no problem with the undignified term “tourism” in my own context), then it was apparent from early on that Japan was going to be an incredibly varied banquet. Seen from my descending flight, the countryside abounded with bundles of bulbous forest that looked ripe enough to pluck. My Then Girlfriend (MTG from now on) helped me navigate the futuristic Narita Airport as we zipped by Leo Café and posed in front of the Leo Shop before renting a mobile phone at Leo Phone. I kicked myself for it, but I couldn’t help but think, “I’m big in Japan.”

Then we were outdoors — 32˚ in the mellow, late afternoon sun, and humid enough to swim. She drove me through the semi-rural Narita area, down empty single-lane roads; a huge orange sun was melting down into the deep green fields. “What are they growing?” I asked her. “Rice.” Of course. Thanks to National Geographic, my only mental image of rice paddies was that of tiered mountain plateaus. It hadn’t occurred to me rice that could be grown in flat fields. We took a shortcut to get back to MTG’s family home, a strikingly narrow little road that twisted insanely up a steep incline. Looming on either side were imposing Japanese houses, white with dark beams and iconic slanted roofs. More “Japanese” than I’d expected.

MTG’s house was an honest, suburban place. Still, a suburb of Tokyo is vastly different from a suburb of Toronto. There, even at the outermost reaches of suburbia, the planning is restrained and sensible, based on a grid. The burbs back out onto rice paddies, not North York-like stretches of showerhead emporium superstores. This is not a dig at Toronto, but a comment on our whole continent. The more of a thing possessed by humans, the more that thing is squandered, and North America is cursed with an abundance of space.

After a nap, MTG and I headed out for the subway system. Outside of the city, street lighting is little more than occasional, and patches of road and sidewalk can vanish right into blackness. Although it wasn’t yet 10:00 p.m., my discombobulated brain was certain it was 3:00 a.m. Our mission was to get to downtown Tokyo so we could board an overnight bus to Kyoto. On the train, I fought tooth and nail to stay awake and take in the bright, neon cityscape, but it was impossible. As I listed away into slumberland, the incomprehensible Japanese conversations around me slowed and slurred until the words recombined into English. My exhausted mind created something it could digest.

Taking the overnight bus to Kyoto, we arrived at daybreak. As the bus slowed and the other passengers were roused, I pulled the bus’ curtains back and peered single-eyed out at bright Kyoto. Somehow, in this half-dream time-flux, I’d been sent back to the 1970s. Beige buildings with round corners and square tiles — here it was, exactly like in my mother’s faded photographs.

Kyoto — a former capital of Japan — is deservedly famous for the history preserved in its monuments, but a more ordinary sense of history also lingers throughout its streets. The city bus carried us gently uphill towards the northwest edge of town where the city gradually receded to mountains. The city got older as we moved away from its centre, and I was delighted to see a little rust creep in, lending character to surgically clean Japan.

A roadway with a distinct sidewalk is something we take for granted in Canada. But even in orderly, prosperous Japan, a little bit of Asian street chaos bustles its way in. Many sidestreets, particularly in Kyoto, are like a hybrid street/alley, lined with little mom and pop shops, barbers and butchers; there’s a painted line where the cars aren’t recommended to drive, but they will if they decide to. It’s not unusual to be in a wide pedestrian plaza that’s crowded with people who suddenly start cramming to one side as a cab bullies its way through the herd. The uniquely Japanese part of the arrangement is that the cab doesn’t honk and the people don’t shout.

I could have walked those sidestreets all day, but MTG had grander plans and soon we were floating downriver on a boat tour, flanked on either side by mountains. Each tour boat had a crew of only three who rotated tasks, the hardest task by far being the actual rowing and banter. Our head rower was a bit of a show-off and virtually tailgated the boat ahead. I didn’t understand the Japanese tour but laughed anyways. I was just mesmerized to be so close to the mountains.

By the evening, things were already beginning to unravel between MTG and I, but after a civilized levelling of accusations, there was nothing to do but go out and eat. By nightfall, Kyoto’s northern downtown is virtually enchanted. Every little building glows, streets branch into sidestreets and down to tiny alleyways just wide enough for two to walk abreast. Following my guidebook, we found Musashi, a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant that Frommer’s assured me was cheap. I was skeptical — it was late and the crowd was young.

When it comes to restaurants, I naturally try to find places that draw regulars. My trepidations were alleviated when a sour-faced old-timer arrived alone and hunched down on a corner seat with a mug of beer. This man didn’t give a shit if it was trendy. Every other concern I had was pushed away as we filled our mouths with some very exquisite sushi. One plate came by that was decidedly of flesh, not fish. I asked MTG if it was pork. “No,” she told me, “It’s horse.” Long-time readers can guess what happened next. Longish strips of streaky horsemeat were laid-out, sushi-style over a “thumb” of tightly packed sushi rice. I didn’t have to think twice before popping it in my mouth. It was, as I’d read about, somewhat tough. A bit of a let down. Japan, conversely, was shaping up to be every bit as intense as I’d heard it was, and I couldn’t have been more excited.

Pyaasa
Written and performed by Anusree Roy
Directed by Thomas Morgan Jones
Runs until November 15 @ Theatre Passe Muraille Backspace

By Matt McGeachy 

Pyaasa means thirsty, and it is clear that author and performer Anusree Roy has a powerful thirst, not only for high quality and engaging theatre, but also for justice, fairness and human decency. 

Pyaasa is set in Calcutta, India, and explores the inhumanity of the caste system, a stratified, ancient hereditary social system. Though the caste system is illegal and equality is part of the Indian constitution, it is still practiced de facto, to appalling consequence.  At the top are the Brahmins, the teachers and priests; followed by the Kshatriyas, the kings and warriors; the Vaishyas, merchants; and the Shudras, artisans and farmers.  Outside this system altogether are the untouchables.  The play centres on Chaya, the untouchable daughter of two toilet cleaners, who dreams of going to school to learn her multiplication tables.

Chaya’s mother works as a toilet cleaner for the head servant of a rich man’s household.  Weary that her daughter is eleven and will soon be receiving marriage proposals, she asks her employer to help Chaya find work in a tea stall washing cups.  She returns to their leaky tent to inform Chaya that she will begin the very next day, and that although she will not be paid, she will be the first among her friends to “be having the tea” — much superior to learning arithmetic.  Though initially resistant to the idea, Chaya consents.

Initially it seems as though all is going well for Chaya, who does indeed get to try tea for the first time, and is regularly given tea biscuits as a reward for her work.  A disturbing course of events ensues, however, that leaves Chaya robbed of her innocence and her mother unemployed.

Roy, who played all parts in this production, convincingly embodies both the tired old woman and the energetic, precocious eleven-year-old, frequently making seamless transitions between the two characters’ physical and vocal personas.  As the world-weary mother, she exudes a resigned dignity, even after being spat upon in line at the communal water pump.  Chaya’s earnestness makes the loss of her innocence even more heartwrenching.

Driven entirely by Roy’s stellar performance and creative lighting, designed by David DeGrow, Roy and director Thomas Morgan Jones have created a beautiful and nuanced show that gently mines a sensitive part of a foreign culture.  The humanity that oozes out of the writing and performance makes this production part of the Toronto theatre season you won’t want to miss.

The Alpha Review

By Andrew Uys

I’ve heard that trade paperbacks — a run of comic issues collected into a graphic novel — are all the rage today. But which ones are worth your time? This column aims to put the spotlight on the spectacular trades — at least according to this writer. And just for fun, we will start with the letter “A,” and each subsequent review will follow with the next letter of the alphabet. While you might object to my taste or my opinion, I hope that this column will help save you time and money when you are next buying a trade paperback, as well as effort in alphabetizing.

L is for Loki
Written by Robert Rodi
Art by Esad Ribic
Marvel, 2007

Loki is a fabulous trade paperback that collects a largely unknown four-issue miniseries of the same name. Set outside Thor continuity, or possibly in a near future, this TPB features a wickedly good story and lushly painted art, which combine for a fantastic read. The premise is simple: Asgard has fallen, Thor is defeated, and Loki is the victor. The story is told from Loki’s perspective, as he goes about settling old scores and tormenting his captives. What makes this story unique, apart from its grand artistic style, is that we finally understand Loki’s side of the age old conflict between him and Thor. The TPB doesn’t paint Loki as a hero, or even as a particularly sympathetic character, but instead the reader comes to understand that there are two sides to every tale — and this is Loki’s.

While I am sure someone will roll their eyes at my ignorance, Robert Rodi and Esad Ribic are largely unknown to me. After a little digging, I realized that I have seen and enjoyed Ribic’s art before — he has worked on Wolverine, and Silver Surfer: Requiem. His painted style is immediately recognizable. It is his artistic touch that makes you forget that you are reading a comic, and instead feel as though you are witnessing an ancient epic playing out before your eyes. Pages seem like stretched canvases, and every panel can be enjoyed as a piece of art wholly separate from the story. This is not to say that the writing is slack. Robert Rodi has done work for DC, Vertigo, and Marvel, and while I have only a passing familiarity with some of his past material, this TPB reads — the dialogue, the plot twists, the characters — every bit as epically as the art on the page.  Rodi doesn’t make Loki the misunderstood hero, or even a villain trying to do good for once, but rather tells Loki’s tale, and lets you the reader judge how he has been treated by Thor and his fellows. You come to realize that while Loki is wholeheartedly a villain, Thor, Sif, and Balder are not the heroes and paragons of virtue that they are often depicted as — everyone has their flaws, including those we normally think of as the good guys.  It is not a long TPB, and the pacing is excellent, making for a relatively quick but very enjoyable read.

Lack of exposure and in-continuity impact has hurt this book, and it is a hidden gem in the comic store.  For those who get tired of trying to fit all of the continuity pieces together, this TPB makes for an excellent break from Marvel’s normal line-up.  Still, the characters are instantly identifiable as Marvel’s Loki and Thor, making it easy to get into.  Combining the pacing and fun of a comic book, with the epic nature of Norse mythology, you can’t go wrong if you read Loki.

An interview with Storyteller

By Nathan Hoffmann

When a rock star opens his bank book and realizes his stash of cash is starting to dwindle, it’s time to go back on tour. Playing to the masses is how bands obtain their fortunes. But, for an independent band, touring isn’t the same lavish party the big boys get to enjoy. Instead of the luxury jet, a sold-out crowd at the ACC, and trashing hotel rooms, it’s a crummy old van, a show for six scene kids in a town whose name you can’t pronounce, and using up all the toilet paper of the nice emo girl who’s letting you crash on her floor.

Storyteller, a post-hardcore band from St. Catharines, left for their first cross-country tour on October 17th. I recently sat down with three of the members to discuss the obstacles that face an independent band as they get set to embark on a month-long journey together.

MONDO: You guys are about to depart on a four-week tour from Ontario through BC. Is excitement the only emotion you’re feeling?

Eli: No, there is also fear, confusion, sleepiness, malice, hunger, and jaundice.

JJ: It’s a big build-up of anxiety. I like it and I don’t. It kind of puts an edge on things and keeps you on track.

Dave: I’m very excited but, at the same time, worried. Anything can happen and we’ll be miles and miles away from home.

MONDO: How did you guys hook up this tour? Did you go through booking agents or did you book the shows yourself?

Eli: We are touring with two other bands. We divided the show-booking responsibilities.

Dave: We booked mostly the Ontario dates; The Fallacy (the band we’re touring with) booked from Calgary to Ontario, and another band booked the BC dates.

MONDO: Is it difficult booking out-of-town shows yourself?

Eli: At the moment it is: as we are still a newer band, we had to collect as many show promoters’ contacts as possible. We haven’t played the majority of these cities before, so promoters had to take something of a chance on us. But I think our tasty licks speak for themselves.

JJ: It is pretty much the only thing that can hold us back. Exposure is key and it is very hard to obtain.

MONDO: What are you hoping to accomplish on this tour?

Eli: Have fun, meet new fans, see the country, and see how long I can fend off my body’s desire to bathe.

Dave: As of right now, my goal is just to play my heart out, have fun, and see a part of Canada I’ve never experienced before.

MONDO: How hard is it to balance working and being in a band, in regards to getting time off for touring?

Eli: Well, a month is a long time to take off work. Luckily I have a lot of dirt on my boss. After presenting him with the evidentiary footage from some cleverly placed video cameras, we came to an understanding and he wished me luck.

JJ: I work in a gas station, so work is very flexible for me to book off.

Dave: Not too hard; I booked it in advance and if they didn’t like it, I was going to quit.

MONDO: Tours cost money. Are you concerned about the financial strains a long trip can have? How have you been preparing for this tour?

Eli: I just sold some of my personal artwork, mainly pieces from my hand turkey collection. So I should be good.

Dave: Yes, the band has been saving money from our shows, selling CDs and merch. Each of us also has to bring our own money for expenses on the road.

MONDO: What vehicle are you guys are taking on tour?

Eli: We have a band van. It’s in pretty good shape. The only real problem occurred while driving back from an out-of-town show. Our van stopped working and we were forced to call a tow truck. After explaining the problem to him, the tow truck man attempted to start her up and concluded we were out of fuel.

JJ: We took care of all the necessary needs of the van in regards to repairs, tune ups, and CAA to make sure everything will be the best that it can be.

MONDO: What kinds of stuff are you guys packing to help survive the tour?

Eli: Cold cuts, clothes, movies, baby wipes, sleeping bag, and daily devotionals.

JJ: Clothes, baby wipes, beer, maybe money.

Dave: Other then the necessary clothing, we’re bringing canned food and soup, crackers, and most likely some Kraft Dinner.

MONDO: Four weeks is a long time to be stuck in a van with four other guys. Any worries about getting on each other’s nerves? How do you plan to combat cabin fever?

Eli: That is probably my biggest concern. I have a low tolerance for most of my bandmates, so I told them straight up that if any of them pushes my buttons we are going to throw down.

JJ: We hug it out.

Dave: It’s going to be tough, but I’m sure we’ll get through it.

MONDO: What kinds of things have you learned while being on “weekend tours” that you think will help you during this trip?

Eli: Weekend tours are a joke in comparison.

JJ: We have learned to handle each other a bit more. This tour will definitely help with just getting to know the other members. We will probably have bunch of pow-wows so nobody lashes out on each other. Try to act like a family and all that neat stuff.

TV On The Radio
Dear Science
4AD/Interscope, 2008

By Allana Mayer

So, I joined a gym. And while this might seem like TMI to y’all, I’m actually quite pleased about its effect on my MONDO-related output. You see, putting on music whilst running on a treadmill and staring at nothing is much more conducive to critical thoughts than, say, putting on music and reading, or putting on music and hanging out with your friends, or putting on music and eating, or putting on music and shopping, or putting on music and…

In particular, it makes you more aware of rhythms. Which is why I was so pleased that my initial treadmill choice, TV On The Radio’s Dear Science, worked so well. Not only is it as well-written and -produced as anything they’ve released, it has their trademark powerhouse rhythms. As an added bonus, the songs seem… happy. Energized. A turnaround from Return To Cookie Mountain, the boys have perked up and found a sense of humour. That’s not to say they’ve written pop, although track “Dancing Choose” is certainly reminiscent of The Streets’ more facetious moments (“Don’t Mug Yourself”) — and the guitar riff of “Crying” actually brings Mike And The Mechanics to mind, while the vocal part could’ve been performed favourably by any two-bit pop starlet (I might just be crazy on this one, though). But rather than betray themselves as one-trick-ponies, TV On The Radio has stepped up their game and expanded their repertoire.

If this worries you, fear not: “Stork And Owl” sounds exactly like everything else they’ve ever done, as do several other tracks on the disc. While I’ve always respected their talents and found their releases to be generally agreeable, I’ve never gotten urges to put on their music out of the blue, or gotten one of their songs randomly stuck in my head. But I get the feeling that Dear Science might change that.

When all you’ve got to focus on is your breathing, your steps, and a beat, it’s not surprising how simply right it feels when they can all fall into sync. Though it is sort of funny to swagger-dance on a treadmill, you should try it sometime.

Frost/Nixon
By Peter Morgan
Directed by Ted Dykstra
Featuring Lou Cariou and David Storch
Runs October 13 – November 18 @ CanStage, Bluma Appel Theatre

By Matt McGeachy

There is a great scene from Art Linson’s 1980 film Where the Buffalo Roam, based on the life of Hunter S. Thompson, where Thompson, played by Bill Murray, unveils a life-sized cardboard cutout of Richard Nixon.  He takes a swig from a bottle of Wild Turkey, and mutters in his trademark through-the-teeth way, “Nixon.”  His dog begins immediately to attack the cutout’s crotch, and ultimately tears it to shreds.

I’ve always been of this mindset when it comes to the former president.  In my house, Nixon and Kissinger were equivalent to four-letter words. The recent revival of interest in the career and life of the former president now has its Toronto theatrical embodiment: The Canadian Stage Company’s Frost/Nixon.

Featuring the dynamic duo of David Storch as English dandy David Frost and Canadian stage legend Lou Cariou as Richard Nixon, the show offers a behind the scenes look at the taping of the now-infamous interviews from 1977.

The show opens with a look at the two men in decline: Frost is obsessed with regaining his New York show, and Nixon is obsessed with regaining influence and power.  Both are exiles – Frost in Sydney and Nixon in Orange County, California.

Len Cariou as Richard Nixon. Photo by David Cooper.

Cariou as Nixon embodies the character without ever impersonating.  His Nixon is dignified and graceful, and his cadence perfectly reflects old recordings.  He does not, however, ever alter his voice or his appearance for the role.  In his trademark blue suit and conservative tie and in the stately manner of his movement, he is every inch presidential.

Storch’s Frost took a bit longer to warm up to, but ultimately it was a very satisfying character.  Storch’s convincing portrayal of insecurity and foppishness and his transformation into a serious interviewer by the end of the show was powerful and very skillfully executed.  Instead of altering Frost only in the seminal moments of that final, devastating interview, the character’s development was evident throughout the whole show.

Ultimately the show is a battle between two men, each one seeking their rightful place.  The cast of supporting characters narrates events as they unfold, providing background and perspective.  This break from the action was distracting at times, but it is to director Ted Dykstra’s credit that these distractions were minimal.  Ari Cohen’s Jim Reston and Tom McBeath’s Jack Brennan provide the two extremes in Nixonland; Reston, the Nixon-hater par excellence, and Brennan’s dogmatic defense of the ex-president are both shown to be needless extremes.

The great moment of catharsis, where Nixon admits to his own wrongdoing in the Watergate scandal, shows such a nuanced and complicated view of Nixon that it even aroused sympathy.  Two are broken, but only one rises from the ashes.  Whatever else he was, this show reminds us that Nixon was ultimately the most tragic of creatures: a human being.

Miles’ Book

Army of Darkness #14
Written by James Kuhoric and Mike Raicht
Art by Scott Cohn
Dynamite Entertainment, 2008

Confession time — I have not seen all the Evil Dead movies. I’ve seen the first and third ones, and I’ve only seen them once each. I did however, see the Evil Dead musical, which is so very awesome. Anyway, I do know a bit about Ash and the Necronomicon but I’m by no means an expert. With that in mind, let us go forward with this review.

This is what a comic book set in the Army of Darkness world should feel like. It’s got a lot of ironic one-liners, a little bit of gore, some sexual tension, and a dash of demons. What else could you want? It’s a self-contained romp that also moves the plot of the series along nicely, while providing its own beginning, middle, and end. I’m actually tempted to buy the next issue to see where this soft cliffhanger picks up — because it looks awesome.

Art-wise, Cohn is a good fit. His exaggerated style matches both the humour and horror of Evil Dead. On the first read through, I didn’t notice how solid his composition is, but it’s pretty good. I think it’s only a matter of time before we see him on something that’s a little more high-profile. And by that I mean something that could win an Eisner — sorry, but I just don’t see this book getting nominated.

If you’re a fan of the movies, I think you’d have a lot of fun with this book.  It captures the feel of the series and proves itself to be a fun comic.

Isaac’s Book

Thunderbolts #125
Written by Christos Gage
Art by Fernando Blanco
Marvel Comics, 2008

Considering the Thunderbolts series is about a cynical manipulation of the mass markets to spin a bunch of villains into the quintessential heroes of a nation, it’s no surprise that the issue begins with Norman Osborn planting an American flag through an alien Skrull’s chest. But to then be interviewed by a reporter and hear a pitch perfect example of pandering to the masses — it’s just too obvious. Has Gage’s entire run been like this?

I do like the Skrull Queen/Spider-Woman’s reply to Mr. Fantastic: “You should have thought about that before you found it funny to turn our brothers into cows.” Anytime you can reference the time Mr. Fantastic hypnotized Skrulls to take the form of cows, well, I enjoy it.

But it’s just a page showing a perfect divide between the good guys and the Skrulls. I’m glad both sides are disciplined enough to wait for the order to attack the other guy — who’s waiting a foot in front of them for the battle to begin.

Oh, wait, the Thunderbolts guys are here? Yes, okay, that’s what we were waiting for; we can have our huge fight scene now. Sorry for the inconvenience.

We turn the page and there’s the fight scene the Thunderbolts should have just walked in on, but it isn’t very good. There’s no focus to the image. Iron Man is stuck down in the bottom left saying “Avengers Assemble!” because someone has to do that… I just keep looking at this picture of the Bucky Captain America silently shooting one bullet into a Power Man and Iron Fist Skrull mix, while that same Skrull ineffectually punches at Cap’s shield. I see Ms. Marvel getting blasted up in the top left of the page, so there’s ONE good thing about this fight scene.

Bullseye is set loose to grab any weapon he wants, and he sinisterly chuckles and points the thing at Daredevil and Spider-Man, before doing what he’s supposed to do and shooting a Skrull. We’re not given any real struggle or character in this comic, just hints of such. Moments of silence with dramatic close-ups on their faces.

Yeah, I wasn’t happy with this issue, and you know what else? I could have reviewed Thor: Truth of History — but I didn’t find out until too late that it was by Alan Davis. Alan Davis!!

By Santiago Melo

Another year, another DS. Recently Nintendo announced the DSi, and while it looks like a simple update, further investigation reveals the direction Nintendo is going to take in terms of its future as a software and console manufacturer. A first look gives nothing more than increased size for the screens, two cameras, removal of the GBA slot, and a smaller size. Yet there is much more to the DSi than meets the eye (and sadly no, it isn’t a Transformer):

1) Two cameras: The DSi will have two cameras added — one where the microphone used to be and the other one outside in the upper right corner. Nintendo has already confirmed that these are not state-of-the-art cameras, the best one having a 3.0 mp resolution. Additionally, new DS software has been developed to allow users to modify the pictures they’ve taken. The inside camera is capable of recording low resolution video. While no games have been announced yet, the DSi is on the path of becoming a portable webcam.

2) Revised interface: The new DS interface is designed around the Wii’s interface. The menu and navigation system developed to closely resemble its Wii counterpart. While it seems like a purely aesthetic change, looking beyond this shows that games for the DSi will begin to feature increased connectivity with the Wii system, and possibly the development of partner games for each system. Letting you take your Wiis into the new Final Fantasy is a step in this direction. Yet it remains to be seen what Nintendo is planning for their big franchises. I dream about a Zelda adventure that spans worlds on both the DSi and the Wii. Or what about a portable Smash Bros? The options are endless.

3) Larger Screens: Instead of the 3′ screens the DS Lite currently has the DSi will have 3.25′ screens. It doesn’t seem like much, but considering they have an increased brightness setting, Nintendo is probably expecting you to do more than play video games. The best answer is that they are intended for video watching and internet navigation. It now is up to Nintendo to determine what are the formats the DS can play, and if they are planning to create their own video store like Microsoft, Sony, or Apple.

4) Internet Connectivity: Nintendo has confirmed that using your DSi you will be able to login into the Internet from anywhere in the world. Speculation abounds as to whether the DSi will use a different format than the DS Lite uses to connect to the Internet, as this would determine the speed of the connection. Additionally, the quality of online game modes for the DS would be improved with the faster internet. Some of the functionalities that the DSi opens up are interactive maps, instant messaging, flash, streaming videos. It is all up to Nintendo to see what they allow and how (Remember they invented Friend Codes).

5) Internal Memory Increase: With a bigger memory comes increased processing speeds. This means better graphics, improved AI routines, and an overall increase the quality of the games for the DSi. Although it has to be made clear that Nintendo hasn’t taken the time to put in a dedicated 3D graphics chip, more memory means an improvement in all areas. An increase in memory also means that the DSi will be able to play videos in multiple formats, surf the internet faster, emulate other Nintendo systems like SNES or GBA better than the DS does now, and in general offer a better multimedia experience.

6) SD Card slot: It initially came as great news to everyone in the Homebrew community, a supported SD card would allow for better integration with Homebrew software. Yet Nintendo quickly crashed those dreams when they announced that they are developing a new interface for the DSi, which can only mean increased security measures. For the moment, the main function of the SD card will be to hold music and pictures, but can be logically thought to evolve into a small hard-drive for the DSi where users can carry downloadable games whether from the VC library or a DS/Wiiware store.

7) DSi specific games: No word has come out yet as to what we can expect. It has been made clear that games developed for the DSi won’t be playable in the DS, which points to the speculation of these DSi games having better graphics, use more memory, and even make use of the new DSi features. The only hopes gamers have is that the new games don’t turn the camera into a gimmick. (Nintendo’s Wii is the master of gimmicky games)

8) No GBA slot: The decision to remove the GBA Slot shouldn’t come as a big surprise. Nintendo wants to expand the catalogue of games in its Virtual Console, and this is a great way to do it. It won’t be long after the DSi is released when games like Golden Sun or Oracle of Ages begin to appear. Additionally, with users being able to connect to the Internet through a better connection, purchasing games on the go will be a great thing.

9) Region-lock: Soon after the announcement of the DSi everyone in the Internet was already trying to find a way to import one. That is when Nintendo announced the DSi will be region locked, which is a first for the DS and GBA line of Nintendo products. Software developed for one region will not play in another DSi. It is clear there is more to it than making games from one region unplayable in another: locking is probably a result of Nintendo trying to stop piracy. Is this the best way to do it? I don’t think so. We will have to wait and see as to what the Homebrew community creates.

Nintendo has one clear purpose with this new iteration of the DS, which is to put a DSi on the hands of every person in Japan (and later conquer the world). Will the cuts and modifications be appreciated everywhere? Will they even have enough strength to carry users from the DS to the DSi? Will the DSi be the new portable gaming device or will it just become another SKU update (like Sony’s different PSP iterations)? These questions will have to wait until later this year to be answered.

I have a feeling that this article will make a great forward for email lists.

By Jenny Bundock

This one is a 2-for-1! You know these people: they are a couple who have been together for at least a day (but less than six months) and for some reason, they think that they’ve got the market cornered when it comes to love and that the rest of us poor saps are just walking around like loveless apes with our hands stuck in our coffee mugs wondering where it all went wrong.

They talk in “we” and “our” terms almost all the time, and they touch each other — a lot. When the other one is missing, they text message them, even when you are, say, out for an quiet lunch, or in lecture. They say things like “Their eyes are just so deep, I get lost in them” or “We stayed up all night talking about our childhood dogs, and it was like, the best conversation of my life…” and you can’t help but think “Oh my God! That was the best conversation of your life? Really?” but you hold your tongue. It’s almost like you can see that big rosy bubble they are trapped inside, like a unbearable denial-pod.

What is also interesting about this 2-for-1 is that the actual people involved are, more often than not, friends of yours that you like (when they are alone). In the past they’d never given you the impression that they were this secretly judgmental of your own relationship, or as needy as they’ve become (but then again, they’ve never been in love like this, after six days, before). Oh, but once they are near that new person in their life, their brain chemistry does this Jekyll/Hyde thing, and suddenly “they” don’t ever go to concerts without the other person and it’s “so sad that you and your partner do that” sometimes.

I mean seriously, where the hell do these people get off? This happens to me all the time. Unsolicited advice from some pair of lovers who have been together all of four weeks, who start telling me (or some other person in close proximity) that they are sad for the sorry state of the relationships around them. Because the long-term couples have all but stopped making out in public, or needing the other person to say goodbye to them before they go to the bathroom, they must be less in love!

Do they not realize that we all (regardless of our own relationship status) see the colossal failure of their relationship just over the horizon? Did they not jump into the I love you’s eight days into a summer fling at some point in high school, and then realize that a burning sensation in your loins does not constitute a solid foundation for long-term commitment? That conversations about which fish-stick brand is best and why are not the stuff marriages are built upon? That it doesn’t matter eight months down the road if he looks more like Owen Wilson or Owen Pallet? Has no one ever taught them that healthy doses of independent interests and outside activities keep the conversation alive and well after you know all of their childhood traumas, and they’ve become the fodder of inside jokes? I mean my God!

All of this aside though, the real kick in the balls about the new “forever after one month” lovebirds that always comes next is the heart to heart with their most committed friend. This has been me several times (but I can guarantee examples out of all my friends in 2+ year relationships where this has happened as well) where one of them looks you in the eye and says “I think I’ve finally found my [insert the name of whoever the person you've been dating for 2+ years is] and now I know what your relationship is like.” Please, new lovers, spare us the additional justification. If you like that person, great, stay with them. Don’t seek approval by likening it to my own, or other people’s situations. The truth of the matter is, no one, ever, knows what his or her friend’s relationships are truly like. We can try to guess, but unless you eavesdrop on all their calls, and have video feed in their house, you’re probably 60% in the dark.

At the end of the day, only those of us who are willing to stop “eskimo kissing” in public, skipping work for picnics or morning cuddling, staying up every night talking about feelings, and making out the front porch for hours as a “goodbye” have the comfort of a strong relationship.

The “honeymoon phase” is hugely compromising, which is why it is the most fun and magical, and also why you can’t ever get it back. You feel like you are living outside the law, defying society and responsibility in the name of love! Damn right that part and that feeling is fun, but if you get fired, fail your exams, have to get up at 7 a.m. to hand out resumes, and then try to figure out where the hell your next rent payment is coming from, no amount of tickle fights or baby talk is going to solve your problems, but it is going to tank your relationship.

So stop pretending like you’ve got it all figured out. You don’t, and you’re annoying everyone else!

Evolve or die new lovers. Evolve or die.