Through July 27 - David Snyder: The Other Interview at Martina }{ Johnston. If you've never visited Martina }{ Johnston's gorgeous Berkeley space this is the week to do it, before David Snyder's very sharp and very funny show closes this Sunday. Snyder is prolific video and installation artist, and the first work of his that you encounter in the gallery is The Other Interview/Rogue Gallery, a triptych of live self-portraits. Using generic job interview questions as a framing device, Snyder adopts a distinct personality in each video and takes turns embodying rage, fear, general douchiness. At first his hilarious responses might seem over-the-top, but I can't count the number of times I've sat in an interview or even just a conversation and barely caught something unacceptable from coming out of my mouth. Snyder recognizes the extent to which we all curate our personae, in particular when we are trying to fit into the perceived wants and needs of a new work gig. He describes the job interview as "the ultimate real-life incantation – if you weave the right spell, you suddenly find yourself with an occupation, a salary, health benefits and a 401K." That interest in magic and the power of language also has a strong presence in Snyder's video Cents and Incantations, playing in Martina }{ Johnston's screening room. An aggressively friendly realtor, two buddies trading philosophical thoughts while they dig a hole in the forest, a parlor trick that takes on the weight of a sinister seance, heavy metal shrubbery: it's all part of Snyder's weird and wonderful cosmology.
The international news being what it is right now, I might recommend a wee bit of escapism in the form of Stanley Kramer's screwball road trip It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. After all, this is the 1963 film he followed Judgment at Nuremberg with, which just goes to prove even great directors need to lighten the mood sometimes. The amount of talent (comedic or otherwise) in the cast is truly insane: Sid Caesar, Spencey Tracy, Jonathan Winters, Dick Shawn, Terry-Thomas, Ethel Merman (who spends the majority of her onscreen time gleefully whacking men with her handbag), Buddy Hackett, Mickey Rooney, Milton Berle. And now I'm old enough to appreciate the cameos that went way over my head when I watched the movie as a kid: Jerry Lewis, Jack Benny, Peter Falk, Don Knotts, the Three Stooges, Buster fucking Keaton. I have only ever seen the "shorter" version that clocks in at 2 hours and 40 minutes, and I can only imagine the added glories of Kramer's original cut. The effects remain jaw-dropping even to a modern eye (the film also rightfully earned an Oscar for sound), but it's the sheer non-stop excess of the slapstick that gets me every time. What's not to love about a film that begins with a dying man kicking a bucket down a hill and ends with a slip on a banana peel?
This EP is deliciously retro and yet still very much of the current SF musical moment, catchy garage rock-slash-pop-slash-punk with some excellent synth action to boot. It's no coincidence either that their recent debut full-length (that saw heavy rotation on KALX) was released on John Dwyer's Castle Face label. Dig that awesome cover art by Gina Clyne, and listen to the title track here.
A masterpiece of the French New Wave and one of François Truffaut's finest films, Jules and Jim is a tribute to the eternal truths that men are idiots and women are crazy (and 'twas ever thus). The incomparable Jeanne Moreau is Catherine, the woman at the nexus of an unconventional relationship that also involves close friends Jules and Jim as the film tracks the trio through more than two decades of their amorous permutations. Cinematographer Raoul Coutard makes every single shot resonate with sharp New Wave style and modernity, while the charming score by Georges Delerue is unforgettable as well. But ultimately it is the film's meditation on love that stays with me: its futility, its rewards.