This week's entertainments

This could be a "Five Things" post as I'm woefully behind in logging the entertainments in which I've indulged, but it's just going to be capsule reviews.

Ben Affleck is exactly my kind of pretty, so when I first heard about Argo, I made a note to add it to the list of movies I wanted to see. Once I heard what the film was actually about, I wanted to see it much, much more--and I'm glad I did. Short version: it follows the frankly hare-brained scheme that one crack CIA operative came up with to rescue six diplomatic employees from Iran during the hostage crisis of 1979/1980. The movie was something of a flashback for me. I remember the news story from that last year in high school; I remember news broadcasts counting the days the hostages were held; and I remember the fashions with an almost uncomfortable fondness. Affleck is excellent as the stoic CIA guy Tony Mendez. John Goodman is, as always, excellent as the Hollywood make-up guy who helps Mendez put together the vital details of his scheme. Alan Arkin is suitably cynical and effective as the Hollywood macher who lends credibility and Hollywood muscle to the plan. But Affleck's ability as a director is the real star here, because he's put together a tense, suspenseful flick that also very effectively conveys not only the story of what happened, but why it happened. He recreates news footage of the events and creates credible people with human concerns and motivations. I enjoyed it far more than I expected it. Definitely recommended.

I realized recently that I've seen much less theater over the last year than I usually indulge in. I know exactly why and decided that I needed to remedy the situation, so a couple of nights ago, I purchased a ticket to see Seattle Repertory's production of American Buffalo by David Mamet. The play interested me, first, because it's Mamet and, second, I admit, because it turns on the fate of a buffalo nickel; the combination of two of my favorite pastimes in one play proved irresistible to me. I attended the show on Wednesday evening. The story centers around three men--Don, a junk shop owner, Bobby, his dim teenage assistant, and "Teach," his misanthropic, scheming buddy--and what happens when Don decides that a man who purchased a buffalo nickel from him didn't pay nearly what the coin was worth. Together these three guys conspire to steal the nickel back, as well as whatever coin collection they might find in the customer's home, to reap what financial rewards they might. What ensues is a violent, profane, occasionally funny but ultimately solemn dance around trust, confidence, and competence. Teach is a violent man, and his insistence on being part of the robbery is what really gets things moving. Mamet's language for these men is base and choppy, its meaning conveyed more by context than by actual, uttered speech, almost a rhythmic chant of not-quite-coherent words. It's a marvel to watch the actors make effective communication out of this clipped patois of incomplete thoughts and pretzel logic. All the actors were very good, I thought, but I occasionally wondered if some of the comedy in this human tragedy got a little lost in the execution specifically of Teach's role, with its emphasis on the violence of his character rather than on both that and his inherent, unfounded confidence in his own abilities. Still, I enjoyed the show and am glad I saw it. The set deserves special notice. Starting at the stage and rising four storeys into the fly, it's a scaffold that stores the shop's junk and that the characters chase around, up, and over. It's a masterpiece of set design, one of the most crowded, cluttered spaces I've ever seen in a production, really remarkable, and a great metaphor for the mess these men create around themselves as they hatch and attempt to execute their plan.

Yesterday I attended the Science Fiction and Fantasy Short Film Festival at the Cinerama. The festival was two sessions of two hours each, and I purchased a combination ticket for the entire event. Once there, I met up with oldmangrumpus, snarke, and some of the friends with whom I used to do radio theater. And, of course, it being a science fiction event, I ran into some other friends as well. We saw a total of 21 short films, all of a generally high quality. I admit that overall I preferred the first group of films to the second, though they were all worth seeing. While I won't review every one, there are a few that deserve mention:

Small Time is an Irish tale about a student who discovers time travel and what happens when an unscrupulous professor steals his discovery. Funny, clever, and entertainingly executed, this short won the People's Choice Award for the festival, following in the footsteps of another time travel tale from a couple of years back.

The Wheel is a story told in verse about a brother and sister, each with their own . . . issues. The brother is given the responsibility to monitor the wheel that keeps the world turning; the sister is a bad seed who has sibling rivalry issues. When the sister decides to take matters into her own hands, mayhem ensues. This flick has a beautiful steampunk edge and a dark, gothy sort of charm.

The Narrative of Victor Karloch is a Henson-funded film made using puppets, a tale of 19th-century, eldritch adventure. The puppetry was absolutely outstanding and made me wish that puppetmaker40 and maryrobinette were there to see it. With voice performances by Christopher Lloyd and Elijah Wood, the production just came to life. In general, we don't get enough Christopher Lloyd, I've decided.

Zing peeks in on the doings of the Grim Reaper who gets his come-uppance when he offs a little girl's kitten and she comes calling. The child was clearly a cousin to Boo in Monsters Inc, perhaps a little too familiar. But I still laughed at this beautifully animated little parable that sends a message I couldn't agree with more: don't mess with little girls when their kitties are on the line.

88:88: What can you do when the aliens come for their nightly visit? Attempting to keep them from getting what they want takes quite a bit of work.

Giant Monster Playset: Beware of mysterious gifts that show up on your doorstep. They look like innocent playthings . . . but they spawn unspeakable terror. I couldn't help but laugh at the cleverness of this little film; the audience definitely agreed with me.

Foxes: Another entry from Ireland, set on the edge of a bleak, cookie-cutter suburb, the story follows a photographer and what happens when she discovers and starts photographing a pack of foxes roaming the neighborhood. Though I found it predictable, I thought its photography was beautiful and evocative.

You, Me, and We portrays a group therapy session for clones with social anxiety. I just liked the conceit of the thing. It didn't have any plot in particular; I was just pleased with the idea of it.

Cats in Space: that's pretty much the whole concept in one title. Cats, space, low-budget special effects. It was an goofy little crowd-pleaser, which is pretty much all it had to be.

A few other of the movies left impressions. I'll leave links in case your curious: Tumult, The Gate, Cheap Extermination, Lucky Day Forever (bleak, depressing, and weirdly true), and A Lost and Found Box of Human Sensation (which I saw at SIFF last year and which I believe was nominated for an Academy Award).