Washington City Paper (January 9, 2015)

CITYPAPER WashiNgtoN

Food: d.C.’s Booming JuiCe Cleanse industry 21

Free Volume 35, No. 2 WashiNgtoNCityPaPer.Com JaNuary 9–15, 2015

Five short stories about, of, and for the District. 8 Fiction by Elliott Holt, Theodore Johnston, Temim Fruchter, Brent Sandmeyer, and Ronald Emile Williams.

Plus: Winners of our annual photo contest.

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Sunday, January 18th at 7:00pm Join us to celebrate the Washington City Paper's Third Annual Fiction Issue! The reading will feature great writing about the District, and will include pieces by some of the contest winners and a discussion among the judges and editors.

UPCOMING EVENTS see the rest of our calendar at Kramers.com

Wed, Jan. 14th at 6:30pm Empire of Mud J.D. Dickey

Tues, Jan. 27th at 6:30pm Right of Boom Benjamin Schwartz

Mon, Jan. 19th at 6:30pm Rush of Shadows Catherine Bell

Wed, Jan. 28th at 6:30pm You’re Not Lost if You Can Still See the Truck Bill Heavey

Tues, Jan. 20th at 6:30pm Hall of Small Mammals Thomas Pierce

Tues, Feb. 3rd at 6:30pm Mort(e) Robert Repino

Wed, Jan. 21st at 6:30pm Missing Reels Farran Smith Nehme

Wed, Feb. 11th at 6:30pm Mr. Putin Fiona Hill & Clifford G. Gaddy

Mon, Jan. 26th at 6:30pm Our Secret Life in the Movies J.M. Tyree in conversation with Maud Casey

Thurs, Feb. 19th at 8:00pm Erotica Slam at Hillyer Art Space

1517 CONNECTICUT AVE NW | ACROSS FROM THE DUPONT CIRCLE METRO |202.387.3825 | WWW.KRAMERS.COM

2 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

INSIDE

8 The FicTion issue

A young actress struggles with ego, an Orthodox Jew grappling with identity and family, a drone mishap, a teachable gentrification moment, and a red panda escape. (Plus! The winners of our second annual photography contest.)

4 chaTTer DisTricT Line

33 Music 38 Theater 40 Film

5 City Desk: The changing D.C. Council 5 Gear Prudence: Winter bike commuting 6 Savage Love

41 showTimes

D.c. FeeD

43 Dirt Farm

21 Young & Hungry: The juice cleanse craze comes to D.C. 24 Grazer: Trend predictions for 2015 24 Underserved: The White Martinez

arTs

27 Film: Gittell on Inherent Vice and Olszewski on Predestination 30 Arts Desk: A polar weasel watches the world burn.

ciTy LisT

33 City Lights: Musicians bare their record collections to the world.

42 cLassiFieDs Diversions on The cover Design by Jandos Rothstein

“ ”

I PathetIcally ask If I can smell.

–Page 21

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 3

CHATTER Year Itself

Our last few issues Of 2014 and first of 2015 dealt with reviewing

In which the future is now she took Sidman’s advice.

Other readers were more excited about Sidman’s predictions for 2015 dining news (Jan. 1). “In addition to The Dabney, Kinship and Momofuku, if John Shields finds a way to open and Zero Degrees Zero Minutes is able to find a place, 2015 will be the biggest year ever for D.C.,” wrote JT. “Woot!” tweeted @rebeccamkern.

the year that just ended and previewing the In Housing Complex, where Aaron Wieone that just started. Apparently, either ner similarly rounded up his predictions what we wrote provoked a lot of debate, for 2015 news on development, housing, or readers decided arguing with each land use, and transportation, readers other in our comments section was mostly debated who deserves the credit better than arguing with relatives for whatever is to come. “Mayor Gray over the holidays. has left the overall state of the District “*sigh*...this is exactly why much better than he found it,” posted no one respects the D.C. dinDCLukas. “Yes, the affordable housing scene,” wrote steve on Jessica Sidman’s 2014 Hungries ing/homeless issue is large, and more column (Dec. 26, 2014), which could or should have been done there, recognized some of her favorbut otherwise, I think he did a specite food and restaurant moments tacular job. I am looking forward to Mayor Bowser continuing the overall of the year. “We’re filled with preprogress of the city.” Vince Gray’s fortentious know-nothing know-itWhen: Wednesday, January 21, 6:00 PM mer campaign manager Chuck Thies alls who wouldn’t know the differwas (characteristically) blunter. In reence between chef boyardee and one Where: Tony & Joe’s Seafood Palace, 3000 K Street NW sponse to our question, “What’s ahead in of our ‘fine D.C. establishments.’ Case Tickets: $25 2015 for D.C. schools, housing, and tranand point.....worst trend..steakhouses.... sit?” Thies tweeted, “Bowser bowing on umm, steak is delicious, steak is amazing, Gray’s stage.” steak is American. Quite frankly we don’t have enough good steakhouses in the D.C. washingtoncitypaper.com/events And finally, in our arts section, Kriston Capps area.....what we DO have is places like Rose’s took issue with a piece former Washington City Pawhose idea of steak is charging $120 for a steak the per and Washington Post writer Jessica Dawson had size of a sticky-note and covered up by some foi-graswritten for New York magazine, which couldn’t seem to who the hell cares.” resist putting down D.C.’s arts scene as a useless backwater.

That wasn’t even the grouchiest comment on the Hungries.

“The continuing debate: is D.C. good for artists?” tweeted “To infer that Jessica Sidman’s knowledge of food is ‘intermediLinnea Hegarty, the executive director of the D.C. Pubate’ is in fact wildly hyperbolic,” posted Bobi Shofner, referring a time when the informed critical opinion of the WCP meant to Sidman’s reporting on a secret-ish document circulating in the lic Library Foundation. “@dcpl is doing what we can to help something.” Sidman’s job, of course, is to be a reporter, not a restaurant world that rated and traded tips on how to serve local make it so!” food writers. “A sophomoric knack for aggregating jargon, innu- food critic, but she stuck up for herself: “If you don’t like what I Want to see your name in bold on this page? Jump into the comendo, group think, and gossip is not in any valid way commensu- have to say, you might as well stop reading and wasting your time ments at washingtoncitypaper.com or at @wcp on Twitter. writing unclever comments.” No reply from Shofner, so maybe rate with any actual knowledge of the art of cuisine. There was

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4 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

DISTRICTLINE City Desk

The New D.C. Council

At the beginning of 2013, Kenyan

2013

Tomorrow’s history today: This was the first week of the Bowser administration.

D.C. Council Experience

Phil Mendelson, Chairman: 14 years

Jim Graham, Ward 1: 14 years

Jack Evans, Ward 2: 22 years

2015

McDuffie was a fresh face in D.C. polPhil Mendelson, Chairman: 16 years

itics entering his first full year on the Council. Two years later, he’s the sixth longest tenured member on the 13seat legislature, thanks mainly to his colleagues’ mayoral ambitions and vacancies left by the Mayor-for-Life and the

Mary Cheh, Ward 3: six years

legislating, the Council is in a new era.

Check out the charts to the right to see

Kenyan McDuffie, Ward 5: one year Tommy Wells, Ward 6: six years

Jack Evans, Ward 2: 24 years

Yvette Alexander, Ward 7: six years Marion Barry, Ward 8: 14 years

Vincent Orange, At-large: 10 years Anita Bonds, At-large: zero years David Catania, At-large: 15 years

how much experience has disappeared in two years’ time.—Zach Rausnitz

Brianne Nadeau, Ward 1: zero years

Muriel Bowser, Ward 4: six years

mayor-for-now. With only five members who have spent more than a few years

Gear Prudence: Other than it getting dark earlier, being colder, and the possibility of ice and snow, are there any other obvious perils that I need to worry about if I bike commute through the winter?

—Briskly Riding, Reckoned Ready?

David Grosso, At-large: zero years

Mary Cheh, Ward 3: eight years vacant, Ward 4: zero years Kenyan McDuffie, Ward 5: three years Charles Allen, Ward 6: zero years Yvette Alexander, Ward 7: eight years vacant, Ward 8: zero years Vincent Orange, At-large: 12 years Anita Bonds, At-large: two years Elissa Silverman, At-large: zero years David Grosso, At-large: two years

“The biggesT Thing was expecTaTions were one Thing, and whaT realiTy was was compleTely differenT.”

—Department of Public Works Director William Howland on the city’s response to the first snow event of the year, which exceeded most forecasts and left some morning commuters in gridlock.

800 Block of 14th Street NW, JaN. 6. By DarroW MoNtgoMery

Dear BRRR: You’ve named the big three obvious troubles of winter bike commuting, but it sounds like you might be aware of some potential solutions. Darkness? Use lights! Cold? Wear more clothes! Snow and ice? Don’t ride on the snow and ice, and/or move to Miami! Though ice and snow are hardly the only things that might cause you to slip. (Mind stray tauntaun guts.) Winter means caution.

While these (cold, dark, snow) are the most obvious concerns of winter riding, there are some secondary issues that you should be aware of.

Winter seems to dirty bikes more than the other seasons. You’ll notice an increased amount of grime and precipitation, especially of the slushy variation, mucks your bike unrepentantly. Salt and salt-esque chemicals used to de-ice roads can leave your ride brined, which can be especially harmful to its proper operation and can exacerbate wear. You’ll need to spend time cleaning your bike in an effort to keep it in good working order.

Obviously, road conditions in winter deteriorate. Beyond keeping yourself off the ice, it’s important to be mindful of other dangerous road users, such as fretful drivers and novice biathletes. Leave the polka-dot jerseys at home.

One peril gentlemen need especially fear is succumbing to ill-advised facial hair choices.

The temptation of growing a patchy, scraggly beard to provide marginal benefit against the cold and wind is strong. However, be aware you’ll still have a patchy, scraggly beard even when you’re not bike commuting. If this look isn’t your best, consider a buff or scarf instead.

But worst of all, the greatest peril of riding in suboptimal conditions is succumbing to monotony. Winter weather tends to force bike commuters into taking the shortest, most direct route, thereby robbing them of the exploration and easy diversions that can make bike commuting so compelling. Stave off the boredom of repetition by taking the bus to work every so often. You can recharge your metaphorical batteries as you drain your literal ones by staring at your phone, looking at how much longer it’s taking, questioning how cold it really was anyway, and reminding yourself that the warmth derived from huddling with your fellow passengers isn’t nearly as comforting as the joy derived —GP from cycling past them.

Gear Prudence is Brian McEntee, who blogs at talesfromthesharrows.blogspot.com and tweets at @sharrowsdc. Got a question about bicycling? Email gearprudence@ washingtoncitypaper.com. washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 5

SAVAGELOVE I have been wearing bras and panties with stockings for so long now, it’s become a part of me, and I was wondering if you have heard of this be—Sent From Samsung Mobile fore.

People wearing bras and panties and stockings—that is something I’ve heard of before.

A quick programming note: Some weeks, half the questions I get are longer than the column itself. I can jam 1,250 words into this space, provided I avoid using longer words when shorter ones are available—e.g., “gay” has one syllable, “homosexual” has five; “asshole” has two syllables, “former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee” has twelve. Suffice it to say, very long letters rarely make it in. So while I usually appreciate letter writers who get to the point—the more succinct the question, the better the chances it will make it into the column—it’s possible to be too brief.

Such is the case with your letter, SFSM, which is reproduced here in its entirety. I know what kind of phone you have, but it would be more helpful to know if you are male or female or SOPATGS.* I’m guessing you’re a dude, otherwise you probably wouldn’t feel conflicted about wearing bras, panties, and stockings. So despite what I’ve learned lurking on Tumblr—never make assumptions about other people’s gender identities, we are never going to run out of porn—I’m going to run with the “dude” assumption.

Anyway, SFSM, men who wear bras, panties, and stockings—I have heard of that before, yes. Bras, panties, and stockings are things that some men enjoy. But I once got pulled aside at a party by a butch dyke who confided in me that she likes to wear lacy/girly bras and panties under her Carhartt pants and flannel shirts.

She too wanted to know if I had ever heard of someone like her before—a woman who essentially cross-dressed by wearing women’s underwear—and I had to tell her that I hadn’t. But that butch dyke enjoys wearing bras, panties, and stockings for the exact same reason you and many other straight guys do: the frisson of transgression, the thrill of having a sexy secret, the reveal to a new partner.

She didn’t seem particularly conflicted about her non-butch-dyke-normative tastes—heck, she seemed rather pleased with herself. You should consider her a role model, SFSM, and —Dan follow her example. * Some other point along the gender spectrum.

I’m a (mostly) straight male and I’ve been dating the same woman for more than a year. It’s easily the best relationship I’ve been in. We get along great and rarely fight, and the sex has been great. But there were a few incidents recently when in the heat of the moment she asked me to tell her what I wanted to do and I froze. I didn’t 6 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

know what she expected me to say or do. These incidents ended in an argument. She views this as a sign that I’m not attracted to her or I don’t have a strong libido. Both are untrue. I don’t have strong preferences about sexual activities.

I just enjoy it. Whether it’s going down on her, having her go down on me, doing a bit of roleplay, intercourse in pretty much any position— whatever we’re doing, I’m enjoying myself. If there is something specific she wants, all she needs to do is ask. But when she asks me to take con-

Men who wear bras, panties, and stockings—I have heard of that before, yes. Bras, panties, and stockings are things that some men enjoy. trol in the bedroom or to describe my fantasies to her, I either stare blankly at her or choose something at random, achingly unsure of whether or not I made the right choice. This has always been the way my brain works. When I masturbate, I just think about having sex, not about anything specific. When I look at porn, I am far more interested in how attracted I am to the woman involved than I am in what is going on. If you could give me some ideas for how I can make myself less boring in the sack, I would love to hear it.

—Mister Milquetoast Missionary You know that thing you sometimes do when your girlfriend asks in the heat of the moment what you wanna do? I don’t mean stare at her blankly—that’s the wrong thing to do—I mean choosing something at random. Do that thing every time. Randomly pick something from your established repertoire and tell her you wanna do that thing right now. Then do it, MMM, provided she indicates that she wants to do it too. If she indicates her desire to do it verbally, then you can get right down to it, i.e., you can be a bit aggressive. If her signal is physical or nonverbal, then you should ease

into that random selection much more gradually, so she can redirect and/or ask you to choose again if that particular random selec—Dan tion doesn’t work for her.

I’m a mid-40s gay man in a LTR with a man I love very much. The problem is that, due to ongoing GI problems, I’m unable to bottom. At heart, I’m a total bottom, and the handful of times when I’ve been physically capable of bottoming (before my illness became so severe), I’ve loved it way more than any other sexual act. My husband is 50/50 versatile, and we have an open relationship, so he gets what he wants from me and from others. But sometimes it’s frustrating for me to see him bottoming for another guy when I’m unable to. When a hot guy wants to fuck me, I have to decline every time. I just tell our fuck buds that I’m a total top, because it makes things easier.

I’m glad that my husband is having great sex, but my health problems leave me sexually unfulfilled. I’m receiving treatment, but I’m still not ever “clean” enough to bottom confidently. I’m not sure that I ever will be. Any advice for me?

—Sadly Unfilled Bottom Two practical tips: first, female condoms. I realize you’re a dude, and I realize that female condoms are more expensive than male condoms, but they’re a terrific option for buttfuckees worried about cleanliness. For readers who may be unfamiliar with female condoms: They’re a bit larger than regular condoms and they get tucked inside the orifice that’s about to be fucked—vagina or butt—and remain in place during sex. A bare dick goes into a female condom clean and comes out “clean.” (Technically, that bare dick comes out covered in lube and semen— but that’s the mess people are after, not the mess people worry about. For added safety, the top can wear a male condom.) The female condom is removed after sex, SUB, which you can do alone in the bathroom—that way, if there is a mess, your loving partner/special guest star will never know.

Second option: frottage. It’s not bottoming—no penetration—but it’s a worthy and pleasurable substitute. Your loving partner/ special guest star puts his lubed-up dick between your thighs, right at the top, you close your legs, and he plows away. If you’re on your stomach or doing it doggy style, SUB, you can put your lubed-up hands between your legs and cup your partner’s cock while he thrusts back and forth. You’re not being penetrated, but your taint, the outside of your hole, and your sack are all getting stimulated. Frottage is also a good first step for people who want to experiment with anal play but aren’t ready for penetration. —Dan Send your Savage Love questions to mail@savagelove.net.

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 7

The

Fiction Issue 2015

Early on, putting together an issue like this feels a little like assigning a college essay. You tell everyone what to do and when to do it by, and then you sit back and pray a few people take it seriously. But that’s pretty much where the similarities end. When our deadline arrived, no one asked for an extension. And the work? Impressive across the board.

It’s true. Everyone who submitted to Washington City Paper’s third annual fiction issue could really write, which made reading their stories a blast and selecting a few for print an utter nightmare. Each shed new light on this peculiar city’s people and places, and each had a way of making all of us a little prouder to call D.C. home.

We hope the stories here will make you feel the same way. We’ve got a stylish piece about drone delivery gone wrong and a touching story about identity and an Orthodox Jewish woman’s move to D.C. We’ve got a fun story about a jailbreak at the National Zoo and an artfully framed polemic that confronts the notion of urban progress.

And, of course, we’re thrilled to have a piece from our featured contributor, the District’s own Elliott Holt, whose 2013 novel You Are One of Them was a New York Times Book Review Editors’ Choice and a finalist for a National Book Critics Circle award. Here, she gives us “Backstage,” which exquisitely depicts the inner world of a D.C. native and college senior who’s about to play Helen of Troy in Euripedes’ The Trojan Women.

We hope you enjoy it and all of this year’s stories. Interspersed throughout them you’ll find the winners of our annual photography contest, too, as selected by staff photographer Darrow Montgomery. And we look forward to more of your fiction and photos next year.

8 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

—John Wilwol

Backstage

By Elliott Holt

S

even minutes before curtain, and backstage, the actress is warming up her voice. Aspirated and unaspirated consonants, strung together like a garland: “P-p-p-/t-t-t/k-k-k/g-g-g.” The actress uses her diaphragm. And if you look closely, you can see the way her tongue touches the roof of her mouth for the Ts. Her lips are lovely, everyone says so, and tonight they are a deep garnet red, the same color as her dress, which is floor-length and made of silk, and was created just for her by the costume designer, a visiting professor who keeps complaining that there aren’t enough gay men in this small college town. The dress has long slits up both sides, revealing more leg than the actress would normally consider decent, and she’s still slightly self-conscious about the prospect of appearing in front of all those people (it’s a full house tonight) with so much skin on display. On the other hand, as she paces the dressing room—she likes to pace down here until her call time—she knows, thanks to the wall of mirrors, that she looks spectacular, probably better than she will ever look again in her life. She’s twenty-one and has the legs to pull off this very revealing garment—and it’s true that she’s been running more miles than usual, to make sure her legs look especially lean. And someday, when she’s say, forty, which seems, at this moment, a lifetime away, she’ll be very glad that she tread the boards in this dress, and that for six whole nights she got to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Not that she really thinks she is; she knows that she is just the most beautiful student who auditioned for The Trojan Women. It was a lot of pressure to be cast in this role: The Helen of one’s imagination will always be more beautiful than any undergraduate who gets the part. But someone had to play her, and though Cassandra is a better role—she gets to scream and tear out her hair!—the actress knows that she is more plausible, looks-wise, as a femme fatale. She has what Jonathan, the actor playing Menelaus in this production, refers to as an “equalparts scornful and sexy face,” plus she has Hellenic coloring, and the director, Professor Firestone, goes for the obvious in that sense.

It would never occur to him to cast a Helen who wasn’t blond. The actress believes in color-blind casting. Why not a black Helen?

Professor Firestone also insisted on translating the play himself: His workmanlike script has none of the poetry of Edith Hamilton or the power of Sartre. It is, the actress thinks, the ultimate hubris to translate Euripedes when you can’t even read ancient Greek. Hubris, she knows, is a Greek word.

The actress is drinking plain warm water—she keeps her vocal cords well hydrated. She always avoids coffee on the afternoons of performances—caffeine dries you out. Look at her hair, the way it cascades down her back. Those are hair extensions, don’t be fooled. Her natural hair isn’t quite that long or that blond. The costume designer asked her to get highlights to match the extensions. Over Christmas break, right before she came back to school, she spent two hundred and fifty dollars at a salon in Georgetown. She wasn’t sure how much to tip everyone at the salon; she knew she had to tip the woman who washed her hair, and the one who blowdried it, and then 20 percent to the colorist, but 20 percent of his fee was such a huge sum of money that she could have used that tip to get a haircut, a normal priced haircut, or two normal priced haircuts for that matter.

The actress wants to be blasé about money, but she is not. She waited a lot of tables last

summer; it took her a long time to earn that cash. Unlike some people at this school, the actress does not have a trust fund. She convinced herself that getting her hair colored was money well spent, money she was required to spend to dispatch her theatrical duties, but it’s not like the costume department is going to reimburse her. The costume designer—“Call me Tony,” he says—put small rubber cups in the chest of her dress, to give her “a little lift,” he said, and that made her blush knowing that the gay visiting professor had spent enough time thinking about her boobs to know they need lifting. When he found out she was from D.C., Tony sighed and said, “I’ve had some fun in Dupont Circle, let me tell you.” The actress asked him if he ever went to Tracks, the gay club that she and her friends frequented once they were licensed to drive and could go into areas of the city that their parents didn’t approve of.

“They have volleyball courts indoors, with sand and everything,” she told Tony, but he didn’t know the place.

Tonight two underclassmen did her hair and make-up—they had been meticulously trained—while the actress sat in front of a mirror with her name on it. In the dressing room she really does feel like a star. And she loves to feel like a star, but then she hates herself for it. She hates how much she loves a standing ovation. Does ovation come from ova, as in egg? Does that mean that an ova-

tion is the beginning of something, not the end? She took six years of Latin and it really did help on her SATs. Etymology appeals to the actress. She likes to break words down into their roots. Ova-tion. The actress hates how much she enjoys the nervous approach of people on campus the day after a show; “you were amazing,” stammer professors and students alike. Sometimes they find her in the dining hall or in the library and stare at her as if she’s already famous. And then she goes back to her dorm and takes a long shower—the hotter the better—because loving the fame, however small this version of fame is, makes her feel incredibly dirty.

What is that about, this shame? She had a relatively happy childhood. Her parents are miraculously still married; she and her sister are close. All of her grandparents are dead, but she’s twenty-one, after all. They were alive when she was young; they spoiled her in the way grandparents should. Anyway the actress knows that she’s led a charmed life. She won’t argue with you on that point. She went to private school; she had piano lessons, ballet, etc. But she is suspicious of people who have always gotten what they want. Not everything can be easy. The actress suffered from the machinations of seventh grade mean girls. And she has had her heart broken—she could hardly eat for weeks after that awful night at Fort Reno—but heartbreak builds character. Speaking of characters, the actress

Susan D. Phillips, “Able” (2014) Verizon Center, 601 F St. NW Susan D. Phillips is a local street photographer interested in capturing everyday moments in the life of the District. Her work can be seen at facebook.com/suephi.

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 9

thinks Helen of Troy is misunderstood; too many versions of the myth have turned her into a scheming seductress, but the actress believes the story is more nuanced. The actress thinks that Menelaus probably neglected Helen and made her feel invisible. Helen was lonely; Helen wanted to feel connected to another person, and Paris, with the help of Aphrodite—let’s not forget her role in all of this—made Helen feel special again. Helen was human, after all. Don’t humans need love? If you ask her, the actress will tell you about all the men she almost loved.

The make-up girls have given her false eyelashes and the actress’s eyes have never looked bigger. In the mirrors, her own beauty startles her. She will make a grand entrance; the audience will believe that she launched ships, at least a thousand of them. Opening night: her body is thrumming. Her parents are coming up for next weekend’s shows. Her call time approaches. Her co-stars will already be in the green room and she needs to head up there now. She always has intense moments of stage fright, though once she’s out under the lights, she’s fine. She’s never forgotten a line. On her way up to the green room, she tells herself to breathe, breathe! and almost runs into Jonathan on the stairs. Jonathan is pretending not to notice her, which means that she looks even better than she thought.

He kissed her once, in the wings, when they were doing Molière last spring: his powdery period make-up stained her dress. One night

they got stoned and rolled around in her narrow dorm bed, but she sent him home before he could disrobe her. Off stage, he just doesn’t turn her on. It’s too bad they have to leave the costumes in the theater after the show. If Jonathan could remain in character, that thunderous Greek warrior, she might fuck him, even if Menelaus is a cuckold. The actress has decided that she will never get married.

In the green room, where the clock on the wall reads 7:58, an assistant stage manager, walkie-talkie in hand, awaits. “Places,” says the assistant stage manager, who is, the actress thinks, prettier than her dumpy overalls suggest. Officially, curtain is at 8, but the actress has never seen a show start exactly on time. SAG rules require them to start the show by 8:07, though. And in her experience, they usually begin by about 8:04.

The actress has been in six main stage productions here at school. That has to be some kind of record. Jonathan takes a swill of water (cold water, the actress notes, which is not good for his throat) and swings his arms, as if he’s about to swim a race. As if he were actually athletic. What is the assistant stage manager’s name? The actress can’t remember, and not remembering makes her feel like a diva. She doesn’t want to be the kind of person who takes others for granted, who acts like she’s better than anyone else. “Thank you,” she says to the assistant stage manager in a voice that she hopes conveys gratitude and sincerity and does not re-

And So The Sky Fell

By Theodore Johnston

B

LOOD on the streets of Northwest?

Seemed unlikely I thought so too Not in the leafy confines Not in the well-heeled hollows that border the high-end lawns.

Not in one of our verdant capital city boroughs where the ancient trees make graceful offerings of ample shade.

No No way Disbelief was the order of the moment A child A child, mind you!

It’s not possible. Not here. Oh God, not here. It’s simply just not possible.

But it was. It is. Always has been, people just forgot. Like they do. When they’re insulated.

OK, OK, I know you’re not really insulat-

ed, sir—you’re among the most hyper-connected people on the planet. Finger so firmly on the pulse you’re probably gonna smother the goddamn thing. No, removed. That’s what I meant. But still aware. Very, very much aware.

But we’ve evolved beyond this kind of tragedy At least that was the idea— Course that’s the thing about tragedy. Bit unpredictable. Bit of a chameleon, really, isn’t it? Always shifting shape, size, color and brand. Always reinventing itself in a hyperAmerican frenzy.

But I mean, seriously?

A drone?

A goddamn drone?

Oh— Who? Thought you knew, you know—the way you know most things, sir—

10 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

veal her total ignorance of the girl’s name.

The girl is a sophomore, the actress thinks.

And didn’t the girl once say that she’s from Pennsylvania somewhere? Amish country, maybe? One of those places where people rave about the bread? The actress no longer eats bread. She gave up carbs to lose a few pounds for this dress. The actress knows that she tends to stop paying attention when people tell her where they are from, unless they are from New York or D.C. or Los Angeles or San Francisco or any big city, really. The actress is a snob, she realizes, and adds it to a list of things she loathes about herself.

Jonathan is stretching his neck, moving his head back and forth, tossing his wild dark curls—how come Professor Firestone didn’t cast a fair-haired Menelaus? Though, as a rule, the actress is not attracted to blond men. Jonathan winks at her. She rolls her eyes. Why can’t he be a little more cool? Why does he have to try so hard? Actors are the worst. Almost as bad as Republicans. There are Republicans who are also actors (Ronald Reagan, duh) but the actress doesn’t know any of them personally. Jonathan does have good hair, though. He’s grown it out for this role and the actress thinks that he should never cut it. She would like to run her fingers through that hair, but that doesn’t mean she’ll allow him back into her bedroom.

She’s lucky that she has a single this year.

Being a senior comes with privileges. But also terror: What will the actress do after

she graduates? She still has six months here, where she’s the resident ingénue, but in New York, if she decides to pursue acting as a career, she will be one of thousands of longhaired young women, reciting sonnets and trying to make a lasting impression. The actress hates auditions. It is always humiliating to memorize a monologue, to feel so needy. There is something pathetic about actresses. Except Meryl Streep; there is nothing pathetic about Meryl Streep. The actress thinks she, the actress, would have more dignity as a writer or a lawyer. Her parents, like so many other people she knows in Washington, are lawyers. She vows to buy an LSAT prep book. Or maybe she should join the Peace Corps. She pictures herself sleeping every night under mosquito netting. She could go back to D.C., and get some kind of internship. She spent one summer interning on the Hill. She liked feeling like a grown up as she changed trains at Metro Center during her morning commute. She liked the routine, the bustle of adulthood. She liked succumbing to that current. But the actress can’t bear to be a striving nobody. God, she’s a terrible person, to care so much about status. Why does anyone want to be her friend?

“One minute,” says the assistant stage manger and the actress suddenly remembers her name. “Rachel,” she says, though she didn’t mean to speak aloud, and the assistant stage manager says, with an irritated hiss, “No, CP I’m Rebecca.”

The Cahill kid Friends with your grandson, sir— Timothy. Timmy? Tim? He goes by Tim I’m fairly certain Yes! The tow-head tyke that lives on Newark.

Well Lived If we’re being accurate. Which is morbid.

But also the truth.

Yes. I swear it. One of those buzzy whiny drones. Out for a delivery. Like they are now a hundred times a day. New run-of-the-mill kind of a thing. Like the way the mail—the mail!—used to slide through that squeaky squeaky brass mail slot in your front door.

Like the UPS guy used to ring your bell right when you sat down to dinner.

Remember that?

Remember when?

Don’t know Good question Not entirely clear what the drone was dropping off Eggs?

Milk?

Cashmere sweater?

Hard to say. Details haven’t all leaked yet.

But it was on its way to the Vereen’s. Snap delivery. Instant delivery. Presto delivery. That much is a fact. Was Ann-Marie Vereen who saw the whole thing as it went down. OK, poor choice of words, you’re right, sir. My point is, it was Ann-Marie who ran screaming across her lawn over toward the Cahills’.

Ann-Marie who had the presence of mind to blink 9-1-1 in her glasses.

Not that they got there in time And you’d think the medical drone would be as fast as the delivery drone, wouldn’t you?

Still Imagine that Standing in your parlor on a rainy November afternoon. One of our irrationally warm November afternoons. Left over pumpkins drenched and shiny with precipitation. Your grandkid, sir, and the Cahill kid, and the Mendelbaum kid, popping wheelies and pretend racing up and down the alley next door.

Now Way I heard it Though there’s some disagreement about exactly what happened— The Cahill parents are saying it was a malfunction (As they would) But the Company spokesperson is saying the onboard camera tells a different story (As he would) Truth, probably, lying sneakily somewhere in between, or maybe just elsewhere entirely But anyway The Company is saying—the Company is alleging—that the kids spotted the drone a ways off. And one of these little rapscallions—unclear which one—but one of them, picked up a rock or produced a slingshot and took aim, steady…steady, and then…fired!

Direct hit

COOKING DESIGNING DRAWING WRITING Sean O’Grady, “Analog/Digital” (2014) World War II Memorial, 1750 Independence Ave. SW Sean O’Grady is a photographer born and raised in the D.C. area. His work can be seen at metrospectivemedia.com.

And that’s when, I guess—whether a kid did it or some faulty wiring did it—that’s when Ann-Marie left her perch in the parlor.

She must have just known. Felt it. Felt that something was off—we haven’t lost our instincts yet, sir, not entirely—she came bursting through the front door—the baby blue front door that does make such a lovely contrast with the house’s white stucco. Everyone skeptical at first, remember, sir? Everyone second-guessing the poor woman something vicious over their charcuterie and Oregon pinots when they heard about the color choice during last year’s remodel…but Ann-Marie showed ‘em, Ann-Marie fed ‘em their smuggy-smug chatter right back to ‘em in steaming hot spoonfulls.

That woman knows her color schemes goddamnit Got to give her that Woman’s got taste Anyway out the robin’s egg blue door she comes a-bolting, the drone wobbling on its axis, yawing left and right like a drunken eagle that has no business exercising its right to fly—and certainly not in a neighborhood like this and certainly not in the presence of our kids, sir—and she’s yelling at the precious priceless little ones, screaming at the top of her lungs “What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Get back! Get back!”

But the kids were entranced One in a million One in a million that their rock toss actually hits the winged robot But hit it he did Whichever one he was And yes it would change things—sort of, I suppose—if it turns out it was the Cahill kid who threw the rock or whatever it was that

nailed the drone and caused the whole thing But they haven’t recovered the camera yet And even when they do, who’s to say they’ll tell us what’s on it And even if they tell us, who’s to say it’ll be the truth But the kids fell back. Ann-Marie screaming bloody murder. Hell I flinched. So you can just imagine the kids. They hustled.

And pronto. Ducked under the porte-cochère, laughing and high-fiving like they’d won the Super Bowl but still, ostensibly, out of harms way.

And right then the drone picked up speed And veered into that huge oak on the corner of 34th Lopped a branch clean off with one its rotors—thing fell to the ground like a giant’s limb And the drone started spinning—a blur, a greyish white silver steel blur, insanely fast, round and round and round Closer and closer and closer to the Vereen’s front lawn And Ann-Marie was screaming even louder (if that’s even possible which I guess it is) and the kids went quiet and sort of huddled close together under the porte-cochère next to Mr. Vereen’s old Mercedes SUV And then the drone sagged in mid-air, sort of dropped right at Ann-Marie and little Tim Cahill yelled and leapt out from under his protective overhang—just like his father, dammit, just like his father and his grandfather before him come to think of it, such a wonderful, wonderful man, admirable tradition of service in that family, sir, admirable tradition of service—and they better make mention of that when the time is, well you know, appropriate—and he ran to push Ann-Marie out of the way and that’s when the drone

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washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 11

came back to life, rotors a wild whirring buzzsaw and little Timmy’s head was in the wrong place at the worst possible time.

Oh my God, sir, the blood— I was just there across the street vacuuming the Jones’s carpet In Mr. Jones’s brand new entertainment salon With that beautiful television that curves like a sculpture.

But oh honey— The blood The blood the blood the blood Everywhere Why I hadn’t seen anything like it since 1968.

And ’68

Well, people were out of control. And it’s bad enough when it’s just the people who are out of control.

Plus, sir, that wasn’t Northwest No No that was another time And another world And now here Here.

Across this here street of ours.

All that blood Too much blood Too, too much blood.

What do you think it means, sir?

Because it’s got to mean something It’s got to CP Doesn’t it?

Favorites

By Temim Fruchter

O

n the ninety-seventh time Trina dialed the number, somebody answered. There was a sound like the opposite of suction, and then, more like

an echo than an actual voice, she heard hello?

Trina had not been prepared for this, so she pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it, looked at the number to be sure it was the

right one. She put the phone back to her ear but pulled it away, fast as a cockroach, as she heard again, definitively, hello?

Trina coughed abruptly, maybe just to hear the sound of her own voice still working, and, in a panic, pressed the end on her phone. She shook her head and just said the word no to no one in particular. She descended into the metro at Columbia Heights on slightly shaky knees.

It happened every Friday without fail.

Around three or four on winter afternoons, when the sun set early, and closer to six or seven in the summertime, when the dark took its sweet time, Trina would unfold her phone out of habit, go to her Favorites, and call her Grandma Bea. She was too stubborn to trade in her flip phone for something sleeker, and too stubborn to delete Grandma Bea’s number. Or too superstitious. Or both. The fact was that Grandma Bea had been dead for three years.

Trina could still remember the first time she’d ridden the Metro on a Friday night past sundown, making her feel invincible and like she could do anything now that she was no longer bound by the laws of her faith. This was in her early twenties, when her lipstick was darkest and her glasses were thickest, a delayed adolescence of sorts. She had moved

Tom Mullins, “Bellevue Library” (2014) William O. Lockridge/Bellevue Neighborhood Library, 115 Atlantic St. SW Tom Mullins, a resident of sububuran Maryland, took this photo while helping to staff a tent for Project Create at the Community of Hope street fair. His photos can be seen at flickr.com/photos/84872771@N00/.

12 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

from the Silver Spring suburbs where she’d grown up in the Orthodox Jewish community to Washington, D.C., which felt more like the big city than anything she’d ever experienced before, trying desperately to outgrow her religion.

Here, she forgot everything and remembered herself, maybe for the first time. She moved into a tiny apartment and bought her first pan and spatula, with which she would learn to perfect her over-easy technique.

She was no chef, but she knew that grownups owned things like pans. She remembered choosing a red lacquered one, because, for the first time, she realized, no one could stop her.

Trina’s parents had understood her moving away, at least a few miles, but they could not understand the things that came with this new distance – skirts becoming shorter and then becoming pants. Friday night dinners becoming less frequent, and then nearly forgotten. For a time, Trina had disappeared from Friday nights altogether. After all, it had been a Friday night when she’d met Slim.

Slim was a woman, but she was not slim by any stretch. It was just that her given name, Melissa Slimkovitz, had never really fit. She was stout and handsome and her short hair was prematurely gray. She laughed louder than anyone Trina had ever met, and she didn’t shave her legs or anything else, for that matter.

The first Friday night Trina skipped Shabbos dinner at her parents’ house, she went to a party in Adams Morgan with her co-worker, Amy, instead. Nervous, Trina had worked on her outfit for hours. Could she wear her tightest jeans? Would people be able to tell how new and unbroken they still were? She settled on a short skirt with tights and a tunic top she’d taken from her sister Mirah years ago. Trina had never learned to put on eyeliner, and she was sure there was no faking that, so she put on extra mascara to compensate, angled into her pea coat, and walked out into the cold.

When Trina and Amy had arrived at the party, Trina saw Slim immediately. She was a statue of a silhouette, swigging a beer and clapping her hand against someone’s back with the gusto of a pirate. She saw the two of them come in and grinned warmly, looking at Trina directly. Trina felt something dizzy twist through her then, and suddenly felt small and scared in her giant tunic. Slim ambled over.

“Hey ladies,” she said. “Allow me to take your coats.” She took Trina’s coat and handed her a beer in return. Trina didn’t like beer, but she began drinking immediately. After tossing their coats on the radiator, Slim returned and started regaling them with tales of the food that had been polished off before they’d arrived. Trina found herself unable to listen, distracted by how struck she was by this woman, how she laughed, how she towered.

“So, Trina, right?” Slim winked at her after bragging about her Guinness chocolate cupcakes. “Do you cook?” Slim was the kind of

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person who could wink and get away with it.

Trina’s head rushed with all of the things she couldn’t cook.

“I make a mean matzo ball soup,” she lied, taking a long and unwelcome swig of beer.

Slim grinned broadly. “Well that works out well,” she said, charming everyone in sight with every monosyllable. “I haven’t had a proper Shabbos dinner since my bat mitzvah.”

Later that night, Trina tumbled into her tiny apartment and peeled off her tights. She yanked off the tunic, finally alone, and looked at herself in the mirror, no shirt and short skirt only. She liked her collarbone. She liked her thighs. She remembered hearing it was unusual for a woman to like her thighs.

Trina had never had a boyfriend. Ever since junior high school, her Grandma Bea had asked her about it every Friday night, soon as the candles were lit and everyone was just sitting down to dinner.

“Nu, Trini, you have a boyfriend?” Just like that, a stand in for how was your week?

“No Grandma,” she’d say, her face burning. “But how are you?”

Grandma Bea grew up Beatrice but she’d always hated that name. Makes me sound like an old lady, she’d say.

Grandma Bea loved without sentiment.

Every compliment came with an edge – you were doing well in school, but you were getting too fat. You were sweet to call, but you hadn’t written. She had been married twice and both husbands had died. Trina wondered how you could still believe in anything after losing like that.

She would hear her friends’ stories about their plump, rosy grandmothers, the ones who sent cakes and cookies, the ones who smothered with kisses and smelled like justbaked challah. Grandma Bea smelled like Chanel. She hated dogs. She loved classical music. Grandma Bea had been a first chair violinist as a girl, but had retired the violin once she realized that it impractical for a woman to play. She’d taken up teaching instead, and when anyone brought up her talent, she changed the subject.

There was a time when the fierceness started to fall away and Grandma Bea started to seem just sad. Trina couldn’t remember exactly when this unraveling began. Was it during Grandma Bea’s first health scare?

Or was it on the first anniversary of her second husband’s death? Whenever it was, there had been a moment when Grandma Bea had stopped offering her unsolicited opinions about everyone’s weight and prospects and stopped laughing sharp like she did. She still came over on Friday nights, but she’d dulled.

She’d stopped talking much. Mostly, she’d sit in the corner and read. Eventually, she stopped coming over at all.

By this time, Trina had mostly stopped coming to Friday night dinner, too. Most Friday nights she was out with Slim, at a D.C. Drag Kings show or eating wings and drink-

Vincent Lee Smith, “RIP Pookie” (Before 2008) Southwest D.C. Vincent Lee Smith came to D.C. in 1991 and attended Howard University, where he fell in love with art and photography. He has exhibited photos at International Visions and Touchstone in D.C., and Photoworks in Glen Echo, Md., and has been published in SHOTS magazine and Washington City Paper.

Smtih’s photos can be seen at vlsphoto.com. ing beer, both of which she was learning to love. Even though it didn’t make sense, she still made the ritual blessing on the chicken wings and refused to dip them in the dairy ranch sauce, as Slim laughed at her, reminding her that she was already too far-gone to be neurotic about Kosher rules.

They weren’t dating, at least Trina didn’t think they were, because they hadn’t kissed, and Slim was anything but shy. But since the night they’d met, they’d been inexplicably inseparable. Slim made Trina feel new things, things she liked. Trina felt bigger and louder around Slim. She felt like she could do anything she wanted. She felt beautiful. She stopped hiding in Mirah’s big tunics and got a tattoo across her collarbone.

After awhile, Trina’s father called.

“Trina, honey, how are you?”

“I’m fine, dad,” she said. “Just busy.”

“Sure, sure,” said her father. “Your mother and I have been busy, too.” A pause. “But Trina, we miss you. We haven’t seen you on Shabbos in awhile. Would you like to come this Friday night? I think Grandma Bea would really love to see you.”

Trina’s mind began spinning excuses. She and Slim had plans to get drunk and go see the new Angelina Jolie movie that night. But a worry she couldn’t quite place caught her words before they fell out.

“OK,” she said. “I’ll be there.”

14 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

It was that Friday, when Trina walked into her parents’ home wearing tight pants instead of a skirt, hoping to be able to catch Slim after the movie, that she saw Grandma Bea in the corner, reading. Grandma Bea didn’t ask Trina about boys or about anything for that matter. She just sat there, silently in the corner, looking at her book, only looking up to have a bite of challah or to answer amen to a blessing.

That night, when Trina emerged from the Metro in Columbia Heights, she didn’t call Slim like she’d planned to. She walked home and lay awake in her bed. She thought about what could happen in a matter of weeks, what you could miss. She thought about everything she could get away with now, and, when she really thought about it, how much that scared her.

The next Friday, Trina called her Grandma Bea. She had never called her grandmother before, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her sitting there quiet and strange in the corner, and thought that calling was what a good Jewish granddaughter might do.

“Hello?”

“Hi Grandma Bea, it’s Trina.”

“Trina!” Grandma Bea had sounded actually delighted.

The conversation was awkward at first; after all, they’d rarely talked on the phone before. And when Trina asked her grandmoth-

er questions about herself, she’d evade them.

So Trina just talked. She did her best character voices, guffawed like she’d been doing since Slim had told her what a great laugh she had, told Grandma Bea she’d learned to make matzo ball soup finally and that she was also learning how to wear eyeliner.

“Trina, make sure you’re being modest,” her grandmother said, only the slightest bit sternly. Somehow, it made Trina feel noticed. It made Trina feel closer to everything about her family than she had in years. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could hear some of the salt returning to her grandmother’s voice.

“I will, Grandma,” she said. “I promise, I will.”

The next week, Trina called Grandma Bea again. And the week after. By the fourth week, Trina could tell that her grandmother had come to expect her calls. On the fifth week, Grandma Bea picked up.

“Trina sweetie, you have a boyfriend yet?”

Trina closed her eyes and thought about Slim.

She laughed.

“No, Grandma,” she said. “Not yet.”

By the time Grandma Bea died suddenly of lung cancer, Trina barely came home for Shabbos anymore at all. She’d moved to a bigger apartment and sometimes hosted Friday night dinners herself, though they often featured pork rib or lobster rolls. Slim would come and tease Trina mercilessly for her in-

sistence on lighting ritual candles in the face of such heresy.

But Trina called Grandma Bea every Friday still, without fail. Sometimes she felt sentimental about it. Sometimes she dreaded it. But always, it felt right. It felt like showing up.

The Friday after Grandma Bea’s funeral, Trina was walking home from her office in Dupont Circle. She remembered being in a rush that day, because she was going to meet Slim’s new girlfriend. She hated when Slim had a girlfriend. She hated feeling jealous and then also having to pretend she wasn’t.

She wanted, at the very least, to get her eyeliner exactly right for the occasion. Her face felt the sun going down, though, and, without thinking, she pulled out her phone to dial Grandma Bea. The Verizon Wireless message started before she remembered that Grandma Bea was gone. She listened to the entirety of the message anyway, a little bit comforted by the

presence of any female voice on the other end. Then she hung up and shook it off. She burst into her apartment to steel up and get pretty.

Tonight, Trina got out of the Metro at Silver Spring. Her heart was still pounding, not only because she had invited Slim to join her at her parents’ house for Shabbos dinner for the first time, but also because she was still spooked. Grandma Bea was dead. Dead people did not pick up phones.

Trina took a deep breath and pulled out her phone again. The sun was sinking fast.

She went to her Favorites and dialed Grandma Bea’s number one more time.

It rang. And rang. She waited.

And then, again, the voice.

“Hello?” It said.

Trina wasn’t sure her voice would work.

“Hello?” It came out like a whisper.

There was a long pause, but nobody hung up. Something on the other end sounded like

It Takes Two

By Brent Sandmeyer

J

immydidn’tseewhatthebigdealabout the giant pandas was. All they did was sleep and chew on bamboo.

Mainly, though, Jimmy didn’t like the crowds they attracted. Rusty the red panda was way better. Rusty mostly slept and ate too, but Jimmy had seen him do some hilarious tricks and he seemed to have a better attitude overall about the whole being-in-a-zoo thing. Plus, he looked just like Jimmy’s favorite character in the new Xbox kung fu game.

Small even for an eight-year-old, Jimmy got pushed around or ignored at school. The first day of class never helped, when every teacher made sure to make some comment on his given name.

“James Brown?” they’d ask, already grinning at some half-formed joke about the Godfather of Soul swirling in their heads.

“Jimmy,” he’d respond, trying to cut them off and sound as tough as possible. “Just Jimmy.”

Most other kids didn’t even know who James Brown was, but they knew anyone the teachers made fun of was fair game, and Jimmy knew how the rest of the year would go. For blocks around the school, Jimmy worried who he might run into. It seemed like the older boys had nothing better to do than hassle him, sticking out a foot at the last moment when he passed, putting him in a headlock for a minute before throwing him gasping to the ground, smacking his bare head after his mom had used the clippers on him. If it was the same thing every day, he could get used to it, but the creativity of their cruelty kept him on edge all

through the school day.

So after school everyday, Jimmy walked right past his apartment off of Columbia Road and straight to the zoo, doing his best to ignore the mouthwatering smells of pupuserias and fast food joints along the way. Jimmy wouldn’t go home because there wasn’t much to go home to. He shared a bed with Charles (don’t call him Chuck), his ten-year-old half brother, while their mom slept on a fold-out in the living room. Neither of them would be home for hours after school ended, so no one ever noticed his absence.

The zoo was a whole different world. Jimmy would start slow at the top of the last hill down to the back entrance, and then let the momentum take his feet faster and faster until he was barely able to keep control, clutching his backpack straps while he flew down the hill. He’d slide to a halt at the light, causing drivers to swerve as his toes slipped over the curb. Finally the light would turn green and he’d swagger across the street, nodding solemnly to the parking lot security guard before proceeding.

Rusty the red panda’s home seemed perfect. Plenty of outdoor space for when the weather was nice, but as soon as it was too hot or too cold, he could just waddle inside and hang out there and have treats brought to him. The zoo had recently brought in a lady panda, but before that it was just him and Rusty. Rusty didn’t seem to hang out much with his girl, and that was just fine by Jimmy, who didn’t have much use for girls himself. “You and me, Russ, huh?” he’d murmur

the wind. Trina wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she spoke again.

“How are you?” A pause.

“Well.”

Trina couldn’t tell whether the well was an answer or an expectant prompt. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, afraid to know what was really happening.

“Grandma Bea, is it you?”

Again, the frenzied crackle. The voice almost disappeared. No discernible words then, but Trina could have sworn she heard yes.

And then silence. No crackling, no nothing.

Into the silence, Trina whispered, “Grandma, I think I have a girlfriend.”

“This is Verizon Wireless. This number is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again.”

Trina pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it, as though waiting for something else to happen. She stood and just waited. Suddenly, she surprised herself by laughing. She laughed loudly and felt the echoes of

her laughter disappear into the darkening sky, to somewhere else.

She snapped the phone shut and put it in her pocket. She felt oddly light on her feet and started to walk faster. It wasn’t just that Grandma Bea was no longer in any corners, and it wasn’t just that when Slim had finally kissed her the week before at the zoo, she’d actually felt new vertebrae forming in her spine. It was that she remembered. She remembered herself and she remembered Friday night and she remembered the sound of her grandmother’s voice, loud and sharp and surprising and not sorry. After all, Grandma Bea never stayed quiet for too long.

As she turned onto 16th Street, Trina pulled the phone out of her pocket again. She opened it and looked at the number one more time. Then she deleted Grandma Bea’s number. She wouldn’t need it anymore. She put the phone back into her pocket and walked the rest of the way to her parents’ without CP stopping.

when not too many people were around.

Jimmy noticed that Rusty would be pretty boring until just before the zoo closed— when it started to get dark—and then start stretching and making little chirps and whistles. The panda would pace around, pawing at the toys that littered the enclosure. Jimmy had even seen Rusty stand up on his hind legs, almost matching Jimmy in height. The little sign said that red pandas were most active at night. “So why ain’t the zoo open at night?” Jimmy had complained once to a nearby volunteer, who just smiled and chuckled. No one took him seriously.

with no urge to sleep.

Screw this, Jimmy said to himself. I’m out.

He grabbed his set of keys from the hook by the door and went out into the sweaty night.

In the city, no one pays any mind to a small child wandering the streets at night—Jimmy was just another obstacle for people to avoid.

He headed northwest toward the zoo, weaving past the young drunks from 18th Street staring at maps on their phones as they tried to find their way back to the Metro. He soon left Columbia Road, heading through the back alleys and apartment complex shortcuts that he had navigated a thousand times.

A sudden flash of lightning threw Jimmy’s shadow against the building behind him, making him a hundred feet tall for a millisecond. Jimmy braced himself as a massive thunderclap echoed among the walls, shaking everything. Seconds later the sky opened and he was drenched instantly, his pants dragging heavily. Soon he was at the last hill, running against the rain, the strobing lightning making it appear that he covered ten yards at a step.

No one guarded the gate at the parking lot and Jimmy climbed up and over the slippery bars. Amid the peals of thunder Jimmy could hear the animals revel in the storm— the elephants’ blasts, the tigers’ rumbles, the shrieks and chatter of the apes. He smiled as he arrived at Rusty’s enclosure, happy to see his friend crouched under a rock overhang rather than sheltering inside the building. The sudden shower must have trapped him outside.

“Hey Rusty!” Jimmy shouted over the storm, waving. The panda stared miserably at Jimmy, his fur matted down in the rain, droplets hanging from his chin. Jimmy looked for a way in. A large stand of bamboo had bent over in the rain, reaching over the moat and almost down to where Rusty lay. Jimmy walked over and pushed it down further, but could feel that it wouldn’t hold him. Maybe the panda could come to him.

Jimmy hung up his keys on the hook next to the apartment door as he came in.

“Where you been?” Charles yelled from the bedroom, where he was sprawled in front of the Xbox playing Madden with one eye on the game and the other on his phone.

“No place,” Jimmy said.

“Bullshit, you was at the zoo again. I can smell that shit on you.”

“Whatever.”

Jimmy threw his bag down and went to the kitchen, a tiny nook off of the living room.

Nothing but snacks and cans of soup. The vegetables Rusty got looked better than this.

Jimmy sighed and grabbed a bag of Cheetos.

“Where’s mom?” he yelled to Charles.

“Work still, I guess. Who knows?”

Suddenly the window air conditioner shuddered and kicked out.

“Awww fuck!” Charles moaned. “It’s hot as shit out. You sleeping on the couch with mom tonight.”

“What? No!” Jimmy ran toward the bedroom, but Charles was quicker, slamming and locking the door in his face. Jimmy kicked the door in frustration then threw himself down on the couch. He couldn’t even pull out the bed by himself. The apartment was already warming up. Jimmy forced open the sticky windows, letting in the loud, humid night. He paced the small living room for a few minutes,

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 15

“Rusty, hey, look! Climb over!” Jimmy shook the bamboo to get Rusty’s attention.

The panda looked skeptical, but then slowly eased up to the ends of the long stalks and sniffed them. Rusty reached out a paw, testing, then started climbing over. The panda moved much faster than Jimmy had expected, and he stumbled back as Rusty neared. Jimmy slipped on the slick path and crashed to the ground. He heard claws on the path as he struggled back to his feet. The rain fell harder. Jimmy could barely see a thing.

“Rusty? Rusty!” Jimmy yelled into the rain, but the panda was already gone.

The next day the papers and TV were full of Rusty’s escape and wild speculation of how it might have occurred. “An inside job?”

MSNBC mused. “Victim of exotic gourmet dining scene?” wondered City Paper. “What did obama know, and when did he know it?”

Fox News demanded.

Jimmy was giddy with his secret knowledge, his stomach so full of butterflies he couldn’t eat his usual morning Pop-Tart. His mom had gone to work early, and Charles hadn’t gotten up yet. The news said that teams of volunteers were out searching nearby neighborhoods, so Jimmy climbed out onto the fire escape to see if there were any nearby.

He heard a crunching sound to his right and turned to see what it might be.

Rusty sat on the next fire escape over, chomping away on some potted bamboo.

From the looks of it, he’d been at it a while already. “Rusty!” Jimmy shouted. He grinned wildly as the panda calmly stared at him and continued to gnaw the fibrous bamboo.

Jimmy heard shouting from below. A group of people were pointing up at him and Rusty and taking pictures with their phones.

Jimmy waved down at them. “He’s up here!”

Jimmy shouted. A news truck pulled up minutes later, with fire trucks and police right behind. The next few hours flew by, with ev-

Bill Bramble, “Four Commuters” (2012) Metro Center station, 607 13th St. NW Bill Bramble is a District resident, street photographer, and a founding member of STRATA, a D.C.-based photography collective. His photos can be seen at cargocollective.com/billbramble.

ery news channel wanting an interview with the boy who found the red panda.

The next day, Jimmy reluctantly walked

back to school. A group of large older boys hollered at him right before he could sneak in the door. “Hey! Come over here.” Jimmy

There Ain’t No One Left To Say ‘There Ain’t No More’

By Ronald Emile Williams

M

r. Brewer was introduced. He accepted the welcoming applause from the audience and smiled humbly as he made his way to the large lectern. He recognized many of the faces scattered throughout the auditorium; but he would target his speech to the unfamil-

iar ones, many of whom were no more than twenty years his junior. (He was never comfortable speaking in front of large crowds; he was most comfortable in the campaign war rooms of first-time candidates where he spoke using Xs and Os.) Once behind the lectern, Mr. Brew-

16 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

er loosened his necktie and unfolded two pieces of paper, which he laid side-by-side.

He stood with his right hand stuffed into his pants pocket and his left pensively rubbing the back of his head. He cleared his throat and finally addressed the audience in a slow, measured tone—slow and mea-

winced and turned to the boys. “You the one that found that panda?” Jimmy just smiled. It CP was going to be a good day.

sured as if he was thinking and speaking simultaneously. “I had a teacher tell me,” he began, “that writing can be used for a number of things, for a number of situations, under a number of circumstances.

And one of those circumstances includes expressing views that can’t be communicated effectively through other channels.”

He stopped in mid-thought and the audience responded with a go-on stare. “I’m not a professional writer,” he continued, “but as a personal choice I like to write…tell stories as a way of discussing certain issues. I was asked to speak today—for this lecture series—about the progress we’ve made in civil rights, some fifty years after the passage of the Civil Rights Act. And in preparing, I realized that this is a rather complicated topic to cover in an hour.

So, instead of giving you a lecture—which I’m really no good at doing and you probably don’t want to hear anyway—I’m going to tell a story.”

From the lectern, Mr. Brewer reached for a bottle of water, took a sip, and replaced it.

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“Why?” he asked rhetorically. “Because people enjoy stories. As my teacher said, people usually put aside their personal beliefs and just listen to the story. And that’s what I want you students to do today. Teachers, I hope you’ll be able to suspend your beliefs as well, but this exercise is really for the students. Students, I want you to compare your views with those expressed in the story, and afterwards we’ll have a discussion. But what I want you to keep in mind as you listen is this: Is progress an absolute certain? And if so, how is progress defined when we talk about civil rights?”

Mr. Brewer nervously exhaled as he looked down at the two pieces of paper. On them, written in long-hand, was the story he would read (overlooking his notes which lined and spilled from the margins, as well as several unfitting words which he crossed out). Mr. Brewer wrote the story just for the students of the Thurgood Marshall Academy—his own high school alma mater which remained in its same location, a few blocks from his old apartment building which no longer remained.

This is the story as read by Mr. Brewer: “When the school year started—over the waves of laughter, when everything is new and fresh and with much promise—Keenan didn’t know what he didn’t know. And when the school year ended—over the waves of laughter, when everything had become routine and worn and marked by perpetually urgent forgetfulness—Keenan still didn’t know what he didn’t know. Sure, he excelled in geometry and English and biology and world history—mastering those had always come easy. But the lesson he would learn today—and would remember tomorrow—was taught outside his school walls. The lesson didn’t involve how to hustle drugs in the alley-back or how to rob late-night Metro riders. No, the lesson involved a different type of crime: gentrification.”

Someone coughed. Mr. Brewer looked into the audience and saw the attentive eyes of the students (and their teachers). He continued: “Keenan had never heard anyone—not his mother, his older brother, his friends, his teachers, the neighborhood savants—use that word. Though he remembered skimming over it once in the Washington Post while researching a local current event, but he had no understanding of either the word or the concept. Yet, by the way it appeared—long, with a mocking “n” and a strange-looking third “i” and a mature “g” and a curious “a”— somehow reminded Keenan of the conversations he often heard from the dudes at the barbershop.

“These dudes, some of them old pipesmoking dudes, some of them young pipecleaning and pipe-dreaming and pied-piping dudes, took turns debating and philosophizing about the nameless and faceless ‘theys’ who were tearing down Barry Farm. He also heard that these ‘theys’ were laying the foundation of an apartment building where the Big K liquor store used to be—an apartment building that the not-so-nameless and not-so-faceless ‘we’ couldn’t afford. Sure

The lesson didn’t involve how to hustle drugs in the alley-back or how to rob latenight Metro riders. No, the lesson involved a different type of crime: gentrification. enough, week after week—especially on those good Fridays and even better Saturdays—if it wasn’t the same old talk about what the Redskins ain’t doing or what they should be doing, it was talk about the ‘us’ and the ‘them’ and the ‘we’ and the ‘they.’

“These dudes—most of whom Keenan knew by name—often took turns saying things like: ‘Look what they did up on 14th Street.’

“Or: ‘Man, have you been down H Street lately? You wouldn’t even recognize it.’

“Or: ‘When they added to that building and covered up the painting of Marvin Gaye—you know, up near Howard—that’s when I knew.’

“And in response: ‘That’s when you knew?! Man, you should’ve been known!

What were you doing, walking around blind all this time? Ignoring the cranes? Thinking those stop signs out there don’t apply to you? The writing was on our ghetto walls when Lil Bow Tie sold what was left of the city to the highest bidder.’

“Keenan clearly remembered that Terrell Dorsey had made that comment. He was a different type of neighborhood boy: urban to the core and well-read. He recently graduated from Duke and was back home to start law school at George Washington University. He was charismatic and spoke with an unapologetic edge. And more so than anyone from the neighborhood, Keenan was fascinated by Terrell, especially when his raspy voice carried some of the most jagged words and back-handed phrases he’d ever heard. Terrell’s reputation was such that each time he spoke, he almost always drew just as many jeers for being critical of President Obama as he did cheers for speaking of D.C.—especially his beloved Ward 8—in terms of ‘us’ and ‘them.’ “ ‘But you know what I hate?’ Keenan recalled one of the dudes asking. ‘I hate it when they call it ‘urban renewal’ or ‘revitalization’ like we too dumb to know what it means.’

“But what did it mean? Keenan would ask

18 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

himself that over and over: as he stood adjacent to a tell-tale palimpsest; as he walked past the ‘One City’ caricature mural; as he rode his bike home, up Hunter Place. He wanted to know what it meant—the G-word and ‘urban renewal’ and the clumsy-sounding ‘revitalization.’ What did it all mean to a rising 11th grader who planned to spend most of his summer vacation playing Madden and studying for the SAT and hooping with his cousin and the other neighborhood boys.

“And he questioned still, as he sat on the small concrete porch of his cousin’s row house. It was set on a patchy grass hill along the pot-holed Morris Road, in a long sequence of houses equal in their run-down appearance. While waiting for his cousin, Keenan saw three well-dressed men across the street, talking with each other in front of a boardedup house. One man pointed north. The other man nodded. And the third man tapped on his smartphone. They weren’t the police. No, these men were a different type of authority, carrying with them a menacing clipboard, a brown folder, and a map. “ ‘Conquerors coming to conquer the last of a savage land,’ Keenan thought. He actually surprised himself, because before today that kind of colorful thought would’ve never entered into his consciousness.

“From his right Keenan heard a door open.

He looked over his shoulder and saw an elderly woman peering through her screenless screen door. She lifted the lid of her black rusted mailbox, which vertically hung underneath the house number, and pulled out a couple of white envelopes. “ ‘Hmmm, they’re still here,’ she noted.

Her voice was low and contemplative.

“Keenan looked back across the street; the men were still talking and seeming to agree with one another. “ ‘You’re Elsie’s boy, right?’ the woman asked. ‘The smart one?’ “ ‘Yes,’ Keenan replied, as he turned back to face her. “ ‘Well, whatchu make of that over there?’

“ ‘What? Them?’ “ ‘Yes, them. Over there.’ She pointed with her chin.

“Keenan turned back towards the men and said, ‘I don’t know. What’re they doing?’ “ ‘Getting ready to kick us out, that’s what they’re doing,’ the woman replied. ‘They come ‘round here saying that they going to fix up the neighborhood and whatnot. I got the paper they left in here somewhere. But what I want to know is why they wait so long to fix it up? Where was they at years ago?’ “ ‘Who are they?’ “ ‘I don’t know, son,’ she answered.

‘Could be some men from the city. But what I do know is that they don’t care nothing ‘bout us, ‘bout us poor folks. They just come ‘round here kicking us out our homes.

And where they think we can go? Humph. I guess it really don’t matter to them because soon, I tell you, there ain’t going to be none of us left to say anything about it one way or the other. Look at them, grinning. Can’t wait to get us from over here. Dying to take what little we got. I’m telling you the truth, just when we think we made it. Mmmm.

The devil can sure cast a long shadow, can’t he? Oh, but there ain’t nothing I can do ‘bout it no more. My fights were back then.

I’m too old. You, you got to be the one to beat him back now. But just promise me that you won’t forget what it’s all about.’ “ ‘I won’t,’ Keenan promised, as he looked past the men and into his thoughts. The woman mumbled something and then closed (and locked) her door.

“Still waiting for his cousin—wondering what in the world was taking him so long— Keenan watched the three men load into a gray car and drive off, towards MLK Avenue. And that was the day when Keenan learned that thousands of days—past and future—can be melted into one conversation. The end.”

The audience applauded as Mr. Brewer folded his story and pocketed it inside his sports jacket. He reached for the bottle of water and moved from behind the lectern.

“Now, let’s have a discussion,” he said, before taking another sip. “Does anyone want to comment or share their thoughts?” Silence. “What message about civil rights is the story trying to convey?” Silence. “Well, let me ask it another way: What is gentrification, and how does it relate to our understanding of civil rights progress? What are the characters implying about gentrification?”

The auditorium was still silent, until someone coughed (again). Mr. Brewer waited… and waited…took another sip of water…and waited. And just when he thought that either the topic was too complicated or the story was too futile, he saw a student raise his hand.

Immediately, another hand rose…followed by another one…and then another one…and three more, simultaneously…and another one way in the back….

Mr. Brewer smiled inwardly and then called for the first comment; and it was one that he CP had hoped to elicit.

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YOUNG & HUNGRY

Pressing Business The juice cleanse industry is booming in D.C. But is it healthy?

I’ve just finished my first green juice packed with kale, romaine, cucumber, pear, and lemon, when my boyfriend asks if I’m feeling the effects yet.

“Not yet,” I tell him. It’s just one bottle. I’ve got 17 more to go.

“I think I’m going to try Scientology this weekend,” he mocks.

That might at least be cheaper: I’ve forked over $155 (plus an extra $10 for delivery) to D.C.-based cold-pressed juice producer Jrink Juicery to consume nothing but liquids over the next three days. That Friday morning, I received a delivery with six glass bottles for each day, a different combination of fruits and vegetables for every two to three hours.

This is an intimidating challenge for someone whose job and lifestyle revolve around food. The first day starts off shaky when office conversation turns to Panda Gourmet, and I’m working on a round-up of the best dishes I ate in 2014.

Surprisingly, though, I’m not as starving the first day as I expected to be. But I can hear my insides turning. My boyfriend brings a mushroom, goat cheese, and fig marsala pie from &pizza home for dinner. I pathetically ask if I can smell. Then I drink raw almond milk with cinnamon, vanilla, and agave.

With the new year underway, resolutions will no doubt have many others turning to juice cleanses. And lately, there are a lot to choose from. In addition to Jrink Juicery, which recently expanded to 14th Street NW and has plans for another retail outpost at its Falls Church facility, the D.C. area is seeing a proliferation of raw and cold-pressed juice operations, including Purée Juice Bar, South Block Juice Co., Gouter, Tasty6, and Khepra’s Raw Food and Juice Bar. Meanwhile, Whole Foods sells its own cold-pressed juices, and a growing number of brands will ship nationwide.

The craze is old news in cities like New York and Los Angeles, where people are more likely to take note of whatever latest thing Gwyneth Paltrow and Kate Hudson are consuming. In D.C., you can see it as another facet of the city’s booming restaurant and bar scene—or perhaps the backlash to it. Either way, the juice trend is clearly on its way from hippie fringe diet to hipster mainstay.

“They’re the new frozen yogurt bar,” says local registered nutritionist Carlene Thomas, who runs a company called Healthfully Ever After. “It’s a social gathering place. You can say, ‘Let’s go get green juice,’ instead of, ‘Let’s go get coffee.’”

Even restaurants are getting involved in cold-pressed juices, which retain more nutrients and oxidize more slowly than juic-

Juice Boost: Sidman tried a three-day juice cleanse from Jrink Juicery. es produced from centrifugal machines with a blade. Sweetgreen sold them for about two years, but decided to discontinue them this fall. (Instead, the salad chain is experimenting with green juice that’s pressed in front of guests and blended with green tea.) Chicago-transplant Protein Bar recently launched its own cold-pressed brand. And Founding Farmers—a place better known for chicken and waffles—plans to introduce a cold-pressed juice cleanse at its Tysons Corner location opening next month.

Founding Farmers Chief Mixologist and Beverage Director Jon Arroyo, who developed the cleanse, started thinking about the idea more than a year ago at Tales of the Cocktail, an annual conference in New Orleans that brings together bartenders from around the country. In addition to the usual sessions on booze, the conference also offered some mental and physical health options for bartenders. Arroyo and a friend got to talking about all the ways they beat up their bodies. “I’ve really participated in the debaucherous side of beverage sales for a while now,” Arroyo says. “Wouldn’t it be nice to also offer the option of balancing that?”

Arroyo felt juices would be a natural progression for the restaurant, since they already make fresh juices and syrups

Jessica Sidman

By Jessica Sidman

for cocktails. Plus, he says, “It makes sense for D.C. ... People work hard and they’re stressed constantly.”

That’s one big reason the trend has taken off, according to pretty much everyone I asked. And it’s true: A juice cleanse requires relatively little planning or thinking. You don’t have to go to the grocery store, cook, or figure out what you’re allowed to consume. Structure is appealing.

It’s perhaps no surprise, then, that Jrink Juicery was founded by two women who come from very busy careers. Shizu Okusa and Jennifer Ngai met at Goldman Sachs—Okusa was in trading, Ngai was in investment banking—then later worked together at the International Finance Corporation.

They started Jrink initially as a side gig, in large part because a lot of the “fast” eating options involved heavy foods.

Jrink now offers three choices for its “reboot.” (They avoid the word “cleanse.”) I chose “easy,” which incorporates more fruits, making the juices slightly sweeter and generally more palatable. My Jrink reboot guide listed a slew of benefits I “may experience”: increased energy, rejuvenated skin, normalized digestion, deeper and more restful sleep, improved mental clarity, reduced inflammation and bloating, and so on.

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Juice Bar founder Amy Waldman last week, she was on day nine of her latest juice cleanse and planned to keep going. She got into juicing about eight years ago after she wasn’t able to sleep one night and ended up watching the documentary Crazy Sexy Cancer about a woman who drastically changed her diet to fight a cancer diagnosis. The next day, Waldman bought a juicer and drank nothing but juice for 18 straight days. “I just found it incredibly life-changing. Within days, I felt better,” she says. “I woke up one morning and jumped out of bed and I didn’t have any pain. … I didn’t realize I had pain before.” She continued with a raw food and juice diet for the next two years, and ultimately lost 90 pounds in the first six months.

But if you look at the fine print from Purée—and every cleanse purveyor—you’ll find a disclaimer like this: “Purée Artisan Juice Bar, its employees, officers and owners, do not make any claims of the effectiveness of juice fasting to cure illness, heal illnesses, weight loss, or any other medical claim.”

In fact, the dietitians I spoke to say cold-pressed juices can be great as a snack and one component of a healthy diet—just not the entire thing.

“You don’t need to do a cleanse to cleanse your body,” says dietitian Rebecca Scritchfield, the founder of Capitol Nutrition Group. “We already have a detoxification system that works. We don’t need to interfere with these external gimmicks.” She explains your liver and kidneys naturally detoxify everything from the aspirin you take for a headache to environmental pollutants.

It’s also not clear exactly what toxins are being removed through a juice cleanse.

“There’s no defined toxins,” says dietitian Thomas. “They’re not saying, ‘It removes exactly this.’ And I think that’s why it’s so easy to get away with.”

Cleanses also promise to “restore the alkalinity” in your body. But Scritchfield says a regular well-balanced diet will naturally produce a healthy pH balance, so there’s no need to interfere with a cleanse. Meanwhile, the cold-pressing process removes fiber, which is important for digestion. (Juice advocates counter that the absence of fiber gives your digestive system a “rest” and enables the juices’ nutrients to be more quickly absorbed by the body.)

Scritchfield says she has not seen any scientific data that shows a specific juice cleanse proven to have a specific health benefit. Part of that may have to do with the cost of studies, she admits. But when juice cleanse businesses advertise clearer skin or better sleep, they are generally relying on testimonials. “I think it’s all placebo effect,” Scritchfield says. “They don’t want to be wrong. They spent the money on it.”

Even though Scritchfield and Thomas don’t recommend cleanses to their clients, Thomas recently tried a three-day one through Frui-

tive—a company based in Virginia Beach that ships nationally—so that she could better understand the appeal. She found one benefit: “It helped me reset habits.”

But she doesn’t plan to do it again.

“The entire essence of what a detox is and what a cleanse is is kind of unnecessary but highly marketable,” Thomas says. “That’s why it’s so popular.”

By the second day of my “reboot,” I felt more like I was punishing my body than helping it. I was lethargic and slow. A dull headache and hunger set in. While I liked the juices individually, they were collectively sweet. I craved something, anything, savory. And chewy.

When I woke up on day three, my insides felt sore, but improved after a green juice.

Then in the afternoon, around bottle No. 4, I got a sudden burst of energy. I felt wide awake and slightly jittery as if I’d just chugged two cups of coffee.

I did not experience any of the other benefits promoted by Jrink and other cleanses of its kind—except weight loss. I dropped four pounds over three days, but I gained it back within the week. My skin did not glow more, and my digestive system certainly wasn’t thanking me.

When I later talked to South Block Juice Co. founder Amir Mostafavi about my experience, he told me he felt a similar way during his first cleanse. “Day two, I was miserable. I was starving,” he says. He says it helps to ease in with a diet devoid of caffeine, alcohol, meats, dairy, and processed foods. He’ll sometimes get customers who come in after a weekend of partying and heavy eating and want to jump into a cleanse. Mostafavi will advise against it. “It’s going to be too much of a shock to your system,” he says.

Admittedly, I ate a burger, not chia pudding, the day before my cleanse began.

Part of the problem was that Jrink’s website and sign-up process make no mention of how to change your diet in the days leading up to the reboot. It’s only when the delivery arrives that you receive a guide with pre-cleanse instructions. (They forgot to include a guide in my package, but promptly sent it via email when I called.) But at that point, the drinks have a three-day expiration date, so you can’t push back your cleanse.

I tried to ease out of my cleanse better than I’d launched into it. When I was finally able to eat again, I prepared a slice of whole grain toast with half an avocado. My jaw felt heavy and awkward chewing for the first time in three days. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. I was tired.

I have picked up a juice since, but I won’t be CP doing this again.

Eatery tips? Food pursuits? Send suggestions to hungry@washingtoncitypaper.com

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washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 23

DCFEED

what we ate last week

Grazer

K-Pork fried rice, $11, Bul. Satisfaction level: 3.5 what we’ll eat next week

Langosta (lobster) kung fu, $32, China Chilcano. Excitement level: 4

Big Trender

The year of biscuit mania, D.C.’s first food boat, and too many steakhouses has come to an end. So what trends will everyone be adopting and talking about next? Y&H has some predictions for what will take off in 2015. —Jessica Sidman

Underserved The best cocktail you’re not ordering

What: White Martinez with Hayman Old Tom Gin, Dolin Blanc Vermouth, Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur, orange bitters, and orange peel Where: Republic, 6939 Laurel Ave., Takoma Park

Vegetable-Focused Menus

Head-to-tail is giving way to root-to-leaf as more restaurants look to fancy up and focus on their peas and carrots. Mintwood Place chef Cedric Maupillier has promised a greater emphasis on vegetables at his forthcoming Shaw restaurant Convivial, while José Andrés plans to make them the centerpiece of his first fast-casual venture, Beefsteak, named after the tomato.

Ticketed reservations

The long lines at popular restaurants that refuse to take reservations were a sore subject for many diners in 2014. On the flip side, noshows continue to plague places that do offer reservations. One possible middle ground: ticketed reservations, where diners reserve and pay for a meal ahead of time, just as they would for the theatre. The system has already been adopted at restaurants with set prices in other cities. It’s only a matter of time before more D.C. establishments catch on.

Family-Style Plates

Ubiquitous “share plates” are typically synonymous with “small plates,” which aren’t actually big enough for sharing. In backlash to the tapas style, expect to find very large platters and entrees for two or more, which you’ll still have to share. Rose’s Luxury already offers family-style portions of brisket or eggplant parmesan, so copycats surely will follow.

The Chipotle-ization of everything

You’re probably sick of hearing every new fast-casual restaurant being called the “Chipotle of [fill in the blank].” Well, too bad, because the format isn’t slowing down.

In fact, it’s expanding to even more types of cuisine and producing even more spin-offs of spin-offs. Look out for kabob-focused SKWR Kabobline and Buredo, which will serve burrito-sized sushi rolls with fusion flavors, this year.

24 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

More d.C.-Made Food and drink Products

You can now find anything from root beer to chocolate bars to ketchup made in D.C. But the artisanal food market is really just in its infancy. As food incubators expand, so will the variety of locally made products.

Cake

Cupcakes, doughnuts, and Cronuts have been some of the top food trends of the last few years. But straight-up layer cake may be next. Cake by the slice is one of the mainstays at RareSweets, which opened in CityCenterDC last month, and pastry chef Tiffany MacIsaac plans to find a permanent home for her cake-focused Buttercream Bakeshop this year.

What You Should Be Drinking Every bartender has a few drinks in his or her back pocket that can be summoned for that customer who asks for something new, hence the perfectly assonant term “pocket cocktail.”

Republic Bar Manager Brett Robison developed his favorite pocket cocktail, the White Martinez, two years ago while he was mastering the classics. The slightly sweet drink has a crisscrossing genealogy, starting at the top of the family tree with the Martinez, a gin and vermouth concoction speculated to have birthed the martini. Also in the clan: the Flame of Love, made with vodka, sherry, and flaming orange peels; and the White Manhattan, made with white whiskey. Robison gently drags an orange peel through a flame to add theatricality and aroma to the White Martinez experience. “Just the amount of research and homework… and also the fact that it looks so simple when it’s in front of you,” says Robison, “that’s why I appreciate it.”

Why You Should Be Drinking It “There’s something oddly enticing about a clear drink,” says Robison. “The taste is very different than how it appears. It looks like a martini with an orange peel…But then when you taste it, it’s got both a citrusy and an herbal nose. It’s surprisingly balanced.” Adding to the White Martinez’s novelty: Fire makes a drink—and the drinker—more interesting. “Even people who aren’t necessarily adventurous, you light something on fire, and all the sudden they’re adventurous. I don’t think you have to be all that adventurous to order this one.” Robison only recently put the drink on the menu at Republic. “It’s slowly gaining traction,” he says. “It sparks this whole long conversation about the ingredients and the history. It’s kind of a romantic thing.”

—Jenny Rogers

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Aquila Theatre The Tempest FRIDAY, JANUARY 23 AT 8 P.M. A tale of shipwrecks, magic, vengeance, and forgiveness, The Tempest is widely considered to be one of Shakespeare’s finest: his ultimate commentary on life and art. Some scholars think it contains his “retirement” speech in Prospero’s memorable soliloquy and epilogue. “If energy be the food of Shakespeare, then Aquila Theatre serves up a smorgasbord.” (Boston Globe) $44, $37, $26

Jasmine Guy and the Avery Sharpe Trio Raisin’ Cane: A Harlem Renaissance Odyssey SATURDAY, JANUARY 24 AT 8 P.M. 1920s Harlem: the heart of the African-American community in New York and a place of intense and buoyant creativity. Honoring artists who struggled against racial prejudice and segregation amidst this outpouring of artistic expression, Jasmine Guy and Avery Sharpe, considered one of the greatest jazz bassists of his generation, bring that time to life with texts, imagery, and its fabulous music. $48, $41, $29

Walnut Street Theatre A Life in the Theatre FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 6 AT 8 P.M. This hilarious work about two actors competing for the spotlight – and the dressing room! – provides a backstage glimpse into “Theater,” and the challenges of the relationship between a mentor and his apprentice. “Mr. Mamet has written – in gentle ridicule; in jokes, broad and tiny; and in comedy, high and low – a love letter to the theater. It is quite a feat, and he has pulled it off.” (New Yorker) Please note: This performance includes mature language. $44, $37, $26

ff = Family Friendly performances that are most suitable for families with younger children

TICKETS 888-945-2468 OR CFA.GMU.EDU 26 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

Located on the Fairfax campus, six miles west of Beltway exit 54 at the intersection of Braddock Road and Rt. 123.

CPARTS

Portraits of every woman in Congress! on stiCkers! All over D.C.! washingtoncitypaper.com/go/shespan

Film

Before You Confuse Me A stoner protagonist and convoluted biology make for two mystifying mind-benders.

Inherent Vice Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson Predestination Directed by Michael and Peter Spierig

Inherent Vice should probably be seen twice—the first time through, many viewers (including this one) will spend too much time trying to navigate the twists and turns of its sprawling, stoner-noir plot and miss the whole point.

It begins simply enough, as many great detective stories do, with a dame. Hippie detective Doc Sportello (Joaquin Phoenix) is mellowing out in his SoCal apartment when an exflame, Shasta Fay Hepworth (Katherine Waterston), wanders in to ask for his help in getting out of some shady affairs. Sportello takes the case pro bono, mostly so he can stay involved in Hepworth’s life. But he gets more than he bargained for, and so does the audience. The case is a darkly comic adventure through the convoluted counterculture landscape of Los Angeles in the post-hippie era.

Consider the exhaustive cast of characters: There’s the hippie-hating cop (Josh Brolin) who moonlights as a Hollywood extra and shares a contentious but mutually beneficial relationship with Sportello; an ex-junkie mom (Jena Malone) trying to go straight while looking for her husband (Owen Wilson), who may have faked his own death; a debauched dentist (Martin Short) with a penchant for cocaine and young girls; and a straitlaced district attorney’s assistant (Reese Witherspoon) who harbors a soft spot for freaks. There are Black Panthers and Nazis, real estate developers and drug dealers, and the pervasive feeling that they might all be on the same side.

Of course, that could just be the drugs talking. Writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson keeps the viewer closely aligned to the perspective of his perpetually baked protagonist. Sportello can’t keep the strands together (the foggy observations he writes down in his notepad provide the film’s biggest laughs), so neither can we. Some viewers will need a second viewing to stop trying to follow the plot and enjoy the film on its proper level, as an evocative and hilarious series of loosely-related vignettes about the moment America went dark.

It has become a career motif for Anderson, who’s recently cast his critical gaze on other key moments in American history: the oil boom of the late 19th century (There Will Be Blood)

Hippie Cheek: Sportello’s foggy notes become laugh lines.

and the tidy post-war era (The Master). In Inherent Vice, it’s the moment that Hunter S. Thompson wrote about—“the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back”—when Charles Manson and the Zodiac killers gave the squares an excuse to crack down on the counterculture. In the confusing moral landscape of Inherent Vice, Anderson clearly sees the seeds of some of our contemporary social ills.

But such a description belies the fact that it is easily Anderson’s funniest film to date. It feels fitting when supporting characters greet Sportello with a casual “What’s up, Doc?” Like a Looney Tunes cartoon, Inherent Vice contains plenty of pratfalls and sight gags, and a protagonist who’s perpetually one step behind his prey, even if it’s never quite clear who he’s chasing.

—Noah Gittell Inherent Vice opens Jan. 9 at E Street Cinema and AFI Silver.

Most time-travel movies knot your brain with a bit of

speedily exposited quantum physics. Predestination, on the other hand, will make you crazy with its biology. But any ethical reviewer of the film should be all Fight Club about this rather significant detail, as well as the plot in general. So here’s an attempt to talk about Predestination without actually, you know, talking about it.

Directors Michael and Peter Spierig (Daybreakers) penned the screenplay, which they adapted from Robert A. Heinlein’s short story “All You Zombies.” The screen stays black after some brief credits as a narrator says, “What if I could put him in front of you, the man that ruined your life? If I could guarantee that you’d get away with it—would you kill him?”

A few mysterious, shadowy scenes follow before the Spierigs put you in 1970 New York and kick off some seriously lopsided storytelling. A man walks into a bar. (No, really.) He’s an angry young man, identified only as the Unmarried Mother, his persona for a confessional column he writes. The Barkeep (Ethan Hawke) repeatedly tries to engage him despite his antagonistic attitude. washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 27

CPARTS Continued

Eventually they make a bet: The customer gets a bottle of booze if his backstory is the craziest the Barkeep’s ever heard.

Get comfortable, because you’re about to take in about 45 minutes of exposition. (The movie runs only 97.) You already know that Hawke’s character, also unnamed, is a temporal agent, i.e. a time-traveling cop. There’s also been mention of a terrorist dubbed the Fizzle Bomber, whom the agent is assumably trying to stop.

But not, apparently, until he hears the Unmarried Mother’s tale of woe, from being left at the door of an orphanage as an infant to enduring social isolation for being smarter and stronger than his peers. Toss in a still-broken, still-bitter heart and a shocking medical diagnosis, and you’ve got a guy who should win that bottle.

After all that buildup, it’s exciting when the time-hopping finally starts—at least until the inevitable moment of “Huh?” It’s the Barkeep’s final assignment, and his conversation with his customer is actually an attempt to recruit. He persuades the Unmarried Mother to take a temporal leap by offering him the chance for revenge against the one who hurt him. And then things get weird.

As its title suggests, Predestination is most interested in the “predestination paradox,” or the closed loop present in most time-travel films. Sometimes, as in 2012’s excellent Looper, there’s at least some logic you can grasp onto, making it easy

Place-Time Continuum: Predestination requires some serious suspension of disbelief. enough to suspend disbelief and enjoy the otherworldly ride.

Here, you just have to accept that comprehensible rules do not apply. At all.

Hawke is serviceable as the agent, though he’s got a phlegmy, Bale-esque Batman voice that can be distracting. The most impressive actor among the cast of mostly unknowns is Sarah Snook, the star of last year’s horror flick Jessabelle.

Her role demands a chameleon performance, which she delivers so subtly it’s easy to overlook while you’re focused on fig-

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uring things out.

Predestination adeptly interprets and expands on Heinlein’s work; considering that this story doesn’t hold your hand, your satisfaction will depend on how much explanation you need from your mind-benders. But even if the film leaves you cold, you may get a laugh from realizing that it takes the phrase “Go fuck your—Tricia Olszewski self” and fancifully brings it to life.

Predestination opens Jan. 9 at AMC Hoffman in Alexandria.

Is the Glass half full?

Is the Glass half empty? how about half off! realdeal.washingtoncitypaper.com

NEW YEAR, NEW DISCOVERIES Enjoy $25 tickets from January 8–15!* Up to 50% off more than 20 performances including Gil Shaham, Ute Lemper, Gallim Dance, Wynton Marsalis, the Philadelphia Orchestra, and more!

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Jessica Lang Dance

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Post Script! (P.S.) is a monthly subscription service. One handpicked book will be delivered to your door each month for six or twelve months.

If you love books and are looking for new ways to find your next great read, this program is for you.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT IN AMERICA

Q&A What comes in each P.S. package?

One handpicked book.

One letter from a bookseller extolling the virtues of said book. One piece of Kramerbooks swag, i.e. temporary tattoos, vintage bookstore paraphernalia, surprises!

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COPS....................................written by Terry Curtis Fox directed by Stephen Jarrett

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JANUARY 9-31, 2015 THE AMERICAN CENTURY THEATER AT GUNSTON THEATRE II 2700 S. LANG ST., ARLINGTON, VA 22206

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(202) 467-4600 kennedy-center.org Tickets also available at the Box Office | Groups (202) 416-8400

Musical Theater at the Kennedy Center is made possible through the generosity of the Adrienne Arsht Musical Theater Fund.

Kennedy Center Theater Season Sponsor

Comedy at the Kennedy Center Presenting Sponsor

1517 CONNECTICUT AVE. NW 202.387.1400 // KRAMERS.COM washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 29

CPARTS Arts Desk

On Fire:

“BOЛЯ” depicts a foreboding dystopia. Black smoke billows from tire-fueled flames. A broken-down truck sits in the road, vandalized with the Russian word BOЛЯ—which, in this context, either means “willpower” or “freedom.” In the foreground, two figures hurl missiles at an unseen opponent. One is in mid-throw, clutching a rock; he remains anonymous, his identity shrouded by hat and hood. His comrade, dressed in a blue and white chevron-striped jacket, is more vulnerable without mask or helmet. He’s every bit the contemporary analogue to Michelangelo’s David, sizing up the unseen Goliath.

There he GOes AGAin:

The chevron-striped man appears in two other compositions in this exhibition. In one painting, he gathers chunks of concrete with a flock of demonstrators of various ages, some wearing helmets and masks, who throw rubble at the opposition. In another print, he’s alone, closer to letting his Molotov cocktail loose.

While the setting remains the

Behind the break-up of Deleted Scenes, one of our favorite local bands: washingtoncitypaper.com/go/deletedscenes

same—the burning bus, the stairs, the tiger poster—his fellow agitators change, though in the print, the chevron man is alone. The repeated elements suggest the passing of time amidst the chaos and this character’s fearless resolve to stay put and keep fighting.

Anywhere, Or here:

Although the compositions have a journalistic flair, they’re composites. Pulling references from contemporary images of civil unrest, some paintings, with their graffiti, directly suggest Ukraine.

Other works are more difficult to place. The orange glow of a city on fire could just as easily be Egypt, Venezuela, or Ferguson, Mo. Absent of origin, politics, or identity, it’s easy to embrace the side of the rioter.

He’s the little guy, the underdog without the riot gear.

hOney BAdGer dOesn’T Give A shiT:

Despite the primary focus of urban chaos, the quieter elements of the exhibition are, in a way, more shocking: an-

30 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

imals against a backdrop of burning skies. The painting “Polar Weasel” depicts the subject standing proudly, prey dangling from its jaws.

The weasel gives little consideration to the world burning behind it, and as long as it’s left alone, that fire is none of its business. It’s an apropos metaphor: There are too many on the sidelines just watching this thing burn.

At the Fridge to Feb. 14.

HatcHing Fire

For the past six years, something seems to be burning in David Molesky’s paintings. If it wasn’t the setting sun off the Pacific coast of California, it was the wildfires burning in the mountains around it. In the past couple of years, that burning shifted with the winds. In “RIOT,” now on view at the Fridge, Molesky’s works smolder with political fervor. —John Anderson

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NSO Principal Pops Conductor Steven Reineke leads the Orchestra in a classicalcontemporary “mix” concert featuring progressive hip-hop artist and Grammy®nominated Christylez Bacon, six-string electric cellist Wytold, and Washington DC’s DJ Stylus.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9 AT 7:30 P.M.*

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The NSO explores the exciting range of music’s extremes in a Family Concert hosted by NSO Principal Second Violin Marissa Regni and Assistant Conductor Ankush Kumar Bahl. Come one hour early for the musical instrument “Petting Zoo”!

D.C.’s awesomest events calendar.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 10 AT 4 P.M.*

NSO CONCERT @ CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA HARTKE THEATRE, 620 MICHIGAN AVE., NE

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Enjoy

A TANKARD OF ALE WITH FRIENDS!

Visit us in the heart of old town Alexandria for a blend of modern & ancient European cuisine

START YOUR NEW YEAR OFF RIGHT. The finest food, beer, wine, live music, and comedy.

Call 703-329-3075 for details or reservations.

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NSO Music Director Christoph Eschenbach conducts the Orchestra in an all-Mozart program, featuring NSO Principal Flute Aaron Goldman.

MONDAY, JANUARY 12 AT 7:30 P.M.*

*Free, tickets required. Seating is limited and on a firstcome, first-served basis. To register (a limit of 4), visit the website at kennedy-center.org/nsoneighborhood.

And watch members of the National Symphony Orchestra perform at your favorite spots from Brookland to NoMa: NoMa BID

Mount Sinai Baptist Church

Howard University School of Divinity

Franciscan Monastery

Thursday, January 8 at 11 a.m.

Thursday, January 8 at 5 p.m.

Turkey Thicket Recreation Center Thursday, January 8 at 5 p.m.

Northwest One Public Library

Saturday, January 10 at 7 p.m.

Saturday, January 10 at 7:30 p.m.

Trinity Washington University Sunday, January 11 at 2 p.m.

Friday, January 9 at 11 a.m

Ukrainian Catholic National Shrine of the Holy Family

Saturday, January 10 at 12:30 p.m.

Northwest One Public Library

Sunday, January 11 at 2 p.m.

Art Enables

Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception Saturday, January 10 at 7 p.m.

Sunday, January 11 at 2 p.m.

Woodridge Interim Public Library Sunday, January 11 at 2:30 p.m.

For a full schedule and more information, please visit

kennedy-center.org/nsoneighborhood David and Alice Rubenstein are the Presenting Underwriters of the NSO. The NSO Music Director Chair is generously endowed by Roger and Vicki Sant.

The National Symphony Orchestra’s Community Engagement Program is made possible through the generosity of Mrs. Irene Pollin.

John Strongbow’s Tavern 710 King Street Alexandria, Virginia 22314 • www.johnstrongbows.com

Additional support for NSO In Your Neighborhood is provided by Linda and Tobia Mercuro, The Morris and Gwendolyn Cafritz Foundation, Paul M. Angell Family Foundation, and Tina and Albert Small Jr. NSO In Your Neighborhood: Brookland to NoMa is sponsored by Wells Fargo.

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 31

I.M.P. PRESENTS Merriweather Post Pavilion • Columbia, MD JUST ANNOUNCED!

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THIS WEEK’S SHOWS

The 9 Songwriter Series feat. Justin Trawick, The Sweater Set, Margot MacDonald, Lauren Calve, Shane Gamble, Jason Masi, Cash & Earle, Jamie McLean (of The Dirty Dozen Brass Band), and Bryan Russo ............... Th 8

Kap Slap w/ Breathe Carolina & Jai Wolf ............................................................... F 9 The Pietasters w/ Askultura & Black Masala..................................................Sa 10 Cracker & Camper Van Beethoven Early Show! 6pm Doors ...................W 14 STEEZ PROMO PRESENTS

Alvin Risk

w/ Kodak to Graph • Strike Stone • Rucca Late Show! 10:30pm Doors ................W 14

Queensrÿche and more! ............................................. MAY 1 & 2 Two-Day Tickets On Sale Friday, January 9 at 10am For a full lineup, visit m3rockfest.com

F lorida G eorGia l ine

w/ Thomas Rhett & Frankie Ballard .........................................................MAY 9

KENNY CHESNEY The Big Revival Tour 2015

w/ Jake Owen & Chase Rice .................................................................. MAY 27

JANUARY

• merriweathermusic.com • 930.com

Wild Child w/ Pearl and the Beard & James Tillman ........................................ Th 15 Cowboy Mouth Early Show! 6:30pm Doors ............................................................ F 16

Meyerhoff Symphony Hall • Baltimore, MD

STEEZ PROMO PRESENTS TEAMSUPREME TOUR FEATURING

Mr. Carmack • Djemba Djemba • Great Dane • Penthouse Penthouse and more! Late Show! 11:30pm Doors ...................... F 16 Super Diamond ....................................................................................................... Sa 17 FIRST SHOW SOLD OUT! SECOND

Kix • Europe • Cinderella’s Tom Keifer •

SHOW ADDED!

G-Eazy w/ Kehlani • Kool John • Jay Ant .............................................................. Tu 20

Sarah McLachLan

AN EVENING WITH

Ticketmaster

NIGHT ADDED! FIRST NIGHT SOLD OUT! SECOND

RFK Stadium • Washington, D.C.

Dr. Dog w/ Spirit Family Reunion ............................................................................. F 23 Hot in Herre: 2000s Dance Party with DJs Will Eastman and Brian Billion .. Sa 24 STEEZ PROMO PRESENTS THE BUYGORE SHOW FEATURING

Borgore w/ Ookay • Jauz • DOTCOM ........................................................................ Th 29

ALL GOOD PRESENTS

Greensky Bluegrass (F 30 - w/ The Last Bison) ................................ F 30 & Sa 31 FEBRUARY

Asaf Avidan ...................................................................................................................... Su 1 Laura Tsaggaris vs. Justin Jones and the B-Sides

................................MARCH 15

20th Anniversary Blowout!

Buddy Guy • Gary Clark Jr. • Heart • Joan Jett and the Blackhearts • LL Cool J feat. DJ Z-Trip • Trouble Funk • Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue .................................................... JULY 4, 2015 Ticketmaster

CD Release Party!............................................................................................................ W 4

U STREET MUSIC HALL PRESENTS

Viceroy ............................................................................................................................... Th 5

DOCTOR DREAD PRESENTS

Bob Marley’s 70th Birthday Celebration featuring

Third World • Jesse Royal • Roger Steffens • DJ Dub Architect ..................F 6 DC MUSIC DOWNLOAD’S THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY SHOW FEATURING

Paperhaus (Album release show) • Loud Boyz • Baby Bry Bry and The Apologists • DJ AYESCOLD Early Show! 7pm Doors ................... Sa 7

STEEZ PROMO PRESENTS

Borgeous w/ LooKas • LJ MTX • BORTZ Late Show! 11pm Doors ...................... Sa 7 Spandau Ballet: Soul Boys of the Western World Tour ................................ M 9 AN EVENING WITH

Chris Robinson Brotherhood.............................................................................. W11 Phox .................................................................................................................................... Th 12 SpeakeasyDC’s Sucker for Love This is a seated show ............................ Sa 14 ALL GOOD PRESENTS

JJ Grey and MOFRO w/ The London Souls ........................................................ W 18

AN EVENING WITH

Big Head Todd and the Monsters .................................................................. Th 19

FIRST NIGHT SOLD OUT! SECOND

NIGHT ADDED!

Punch Brothers w/ Gaby Moreno ........................................................................ Sa 21 Ariel Pink w/ Jack Name ...........................................................................................M 23

MANY MORE SHOWS ON SALE!

9:30 CUPCAKES

1215 U Street NW, Washington, D.C. THIS FRIDAY!

AN EVENING WITH

H Jerry Lewis

JANUARY 9

H

JAMIE CULLUM .........................................................FEBRUARY 6

ADAM DEVINE

w/ Adam Ray...................................................FEBRUARY 21

AL!

TAPING HIS NEW COMEDY SPECI

DEMETRI MARTIN : The Persistence of Jokes Two Shows! 6pm & 9pm Doors

................................................................................ MARCH 7

AN INTIMATE SOLO/ACOUSTIC PERFORMANCE BY

Citizen Cope ..................................................................... APRIL 9

LISA LAMPANELLI ................................................................................ MAY 29 • thelincolndc.com •

U Street (Green/Yellow) stop across the street!

930.com

The best thing you could possibly put in your mouth

9:30 CLUB PRESENTS AT U STREET MUSIC HALL

Cupcakes by BUZZ... your neighborhood bakery in Alexandria, VA. | www.buzzonslaters.com

Anamanaguchi w/ Maxo ..... W JAN 14 Kawehi w/ Alicia Rae .................. Th 15 Hamilton Leithauser w/ Bully.... F 23 Nick Hakim ................................. Sa 24 Baby Bry Bry and The Apologists

JMSN

w/ Rochelle Jordan & BÉRE .. F FEB 13

Doomtree .................................... Sa 14 Theophilus London

w/ FATHER & Doja Cat ................. Su 15 Francisco The Man w/ BRNDA • What Moon Things • The Sea Life.................................. Su 25 w/ Jackson Scott ........................... W 18

• Buy advance tickets at the 9:30 Club box office Tickets for 9:30 Club shows are available through TicketFly.com, by phone at 1-877-4FLY-TIX, and at the 9:30 Club box office.

9:30 CLUB BOX OFFICE HOURS are 12-7PM Weekdays & Until 11PM on show nights. 6-11PM on Sat & 6-10:30PM on Sun on show nights.

9:30 CUPCAKES The best thing you could possibly put in your mouth.

Cupcakes by BUZZ... your neighborhood bakery in Alexandria, VA. www.buzzbakery.com

32 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

PARKING: THE OFFICIAL 9:30 parking lot entrance is on 9th Street, directly behind the 9:30 club. Buy your advance parking tickets at the same time as your concert tickets!

HAPPY HOUR DRINK PRICES

AFTER THE SHOW AT THE BACK BAR!

930.com

CITYLIST Music

Friday roCk

Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .33 Theater . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 8 Film . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .40

SearCh LISTIngS aT waShIngTonCITYpaper.Com

CITY LIGHTS: FRIDAY

Zoo Bar 3000 Connecticut Ave. NW. (202) 2324225. Sookey Jump. 10 p.m. Free. zoobardc.com.

KINGSLEY FLOOD

Country Birchmere 3701 Mount Vernon Ave., Alexandria.

(703) 549-7500. Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder.

7:30 p.m. $39.50. birchmere.com.

Black caT 1811 14th St. NW. (202) 667-4490. Metalachi, Booze Riot. 9 p.m. $10. blackcatdc.com.

Folk

The hamilTon 600 14th St. NW. (202) 787-1000.

Paul Barrere and Fred Tackett with The New Orleans Suspects. 7 p.m. $27–$35. thehamiltondc.com. Turtle Recall. 10:30 p.m. Free. thehamiltondc.com.

Fillmore Silver Spring 8656 Colesville Road, Silver Spring. (301) 960-9999. The Devil Makes Three, Joe Pug. 8:30 p.m. $20. fillmoresilverspring.com.

hoWard TheaTre 620 T St. NW. (202) 803-2899.

John Kadlecik & The DC Mystery Cats, Cris Jacobs. 7 p.m. $15–$50. thehowardtheatre.com.

gypSy Sally’S 3401 K St. NW. (202) 333-7700.

Roosevelt Dime, By & By, Bellwether Bayou. 8:30 p.m. $12–$15. gypsysallys.com.

manSion aT STraThmore 10701 Rockville Pike, Rockville. (301) 581-5100. Louis Weeks. 8 p.m. $15. strathmore.org.

ioTa cluB & caFé 2832 Wilson Blvd., Arlington.

(703) 522-8340. Walkers Run. 9 p.m. $12. iotaclubandcafe.com.

rock & roll hoTel 1353 H St. NE. (202) 388-ROCK. Kingsley Flood, Fellow Creatures, Humble Fire. 8 p.m. $13. rockandrollhoteldc.com.

World

velveT lounge 915 U St. NW. (202) 462-3213.

Swim Grandma, Weather Dreams, Lushfarm. 9 p.m. $8. velvetloungedc.com.

Tropicalia 2001 14th St. NW. (202) 629-4535.

Kamal Zennia. 8 p.m. $10. tropicaliadc.com.

Funk & r&B

Hip-Hop

kennedy cenTer millennium STage 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. Soule Monde. 6 p.m. Free. kennedy-center.org.

ElECtroniC 9:30 cluB 815 V St. NW. (202) 265-0930. Kap Slap, Breathe Carolina, Jai Wolf. 8 p.m. $18. 930.com.

Jazz BeTheSda BlueS and JaZZ 7719 Wisconsin Ave., Bethesda. (240) 330-4500. Landau Murphy, Jr., Glenn Leonard. 8 p.m. $35. bethesdabluesjazz.com.

BluEs BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 3374141. Chris Thomas King. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $24. bluesalley.com.

Based in both Boston and D.C., alt-country sextet Kingsley Flood has cultivated a fanbase up and down the East Coast. That support got the group named Boston’s best live band by the Boston Herald and earned it a spot opening the Newport Folk Festival’s main stage. But this year, Kingsley Flood is offering fans an opportunity to see the band offstage, too. Through a campaign on PledgeMusic, fans can follow Kingsley Flood with behind-the-scenes videos, live tracks, and the option to weigh in on questions like which song the group should cover next. The band ventured into western Massachusetts and New Hampshire to write its upcoming release, giving it an intimate, woodsy affect. But Kingsley Flood will be back at full energy when it kicks off 2015 at the Rock & Roll Hotel with local indie-rock favorites Fellow Creatures and Humble Fire. Kingsley Flood performs with Fellow Creatures and Humble Fire at 8 p.m. at Rock & Roll Hotel, 1353 H St. NE. $13– —Caroline Jones $15. (202) 388-7625. rockandrollhotel.com.

echoSTage 2135 Queens Chapel Road NE. (202) 503-2330. National Smphony Orchestra with Christylez Bacon and Wytold, DJ Stylus. 7:30 p.m. Free. echostage.com.

ClassiCal BarnS aT WolF Trap 1645 Trap Road, Vienna. (703) 255-1900. The Ying Quartet. 8 p.m. $35. wolftrap.org. muSic cenTer aT STraThmore 5301 Tuckerman Lane, Bethesda. (301) 581-5100. Baltimore Symphony Orchestra: The Rite of Spring. 8:15 p.m. $32–$100. strathmore.org.

WaShingTon naTional caThedral 3101 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 537-6200. Folger Consort. 8 p.m. $30–$50. nationalcathedral.org.

Book Your Bachelor Parties With Us!

VOTED BEST STRIP CLUB IN NW DC Visit Goodguysclub.com for Food, Drink, & Other Specials!

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| WA S H I N G T O N , D C 2 0 0 0 7 | 2 0 2 . 3 3 3 . 8 1 2 8 | W W W. G O O D G U Y S C L U B . C O M washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 33

saturday roCk

9:30 cluB 815 V St. NW. (202) 265-0930. The Pietasters, Askultura, Black Masala. 8 p.m. $15. 930.com.

BeTheSda BlueS and JaZZ 7719 Wisconsin Ave., Bethesda. (240) 330-4500. The Vi-Kings. 8 p.m. $15. bethesdabluesjazz.com. comeT ping pong 5037 Connecticut Ave. NW. (202) 364-0404. Loud Boyz, Shark Week, DJ Money Jungle.

10 p.m. $12. cometpingpong.com.

madam’S organ 2461 18th St. NW. (202) 6675370. Kelly Bell Band. 10 p.m. $3–$7. madamsorgan. com. Rico Amero. 7 p.m. $3–$7. madamsorgan.com.

Zoo Bar 3000 Connecticut Ave. NW. (202) 2324225. Smokin Polecats, Marianna Previti, Jamie Lynch.

10 p.m. Free. zoobardc.com.

Folk dar conSTiTuTion hall 1776 D St. NW. (202) 6284780. Emmylou Harris. 8 p.m. $73–$223. dar.org.

Hip-Hop

Fillmore Silver Spring 8656 Colesville Road, Silver Spring. (301) 960-9999. Led Zeppelin 2. 9 p.m. $16. fillmoresilverspring.com.

rock & roll hoTel 1353 H St. NE. (202) 388-ROCK. Cappadonna, Beer N Black, Urban Shocker, Far Exp. 7:30 p.m. $25. rockandrollhoteldc.com.

gypSy Sally’S 3401 K St. NW. (202) 333-7700. Tom Principato, The Upton Blues Band. 8:30 p.m. $20–$25. gypsysallys.com.

ClassiCal

ioTa cluB & caFé 2832 Wilson Blvd., Arlington.

(703) 522-8340. The Project, Sub-Radio Standard, Jake Mimikos. 9 p.m. $10. iotaclubandcafe.com. velveT lounge 915 U St. NW. (202) 462-3213. The Golden Sombreros, The Milestones, Canker Blossom, Melon Farmers. 9 p.m. $8. velvetloungedc.com.

Jazz manSion aT STraThmore 10701 Rockville Pike, Rockville. (301) 581-5100. Delores King Williams. 7:30 p.m. & 9:30 p.m. $30. strathmore.org.

muSic cenTer aT STraThmore 5301 Tuckerman Lane, Bethesda. (301) 581-5100. National Philharmonic with Zuill Bailey. 8 p.m. $28–$84. strathmore.org.

WaShingTon naTional caThedral 3101 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 537-6200. Folger Consort. 8 p.m. $30–$50. nationalcathedral.org.

sunday roCk

BluEs

Birchmere 3701 Mount Vernon Ave., Alexandria.

(703) 549-7500. David Cassidy. 7:30 p.m. $45. birchmere.com.

BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 3374141. Chris Thomas King. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $24. bluesalley.com.

galaxy huT 2711 Wilson Blvd., Arlington. (703) 525-8646. Teething Veils, Matthew Teardrop, TV John.

9 p.m. $5. galaxyhut.com.

CITY LIGHTS: SATURDAY

HYUN KYUNG YOON

Cross MacKenzie Gallery promises to get noticed in 2015. Last year, owners Rebecca Cross and Max MacKenzie bought a new address for the gallery at 1675 Wisconsin Ave. NW (a gem of a space vacated by Heiner Contemporary last January). With Addison/Ripley just across the street, the gallery is helping carve out a new outpost for art in Georgetown, once a D.C. bastion of painting, photography, and craft. And with its first show in 2015, Korean artist Hyun Kyung Yoon’s “Why, Ai Weiwei?”, the gallery will test the boundaries of its focus on ceramic arts. For this show, Yoon recreates the Qing and Han Dynasty vases famously appropriated by the titular notorious Beijing artist. While Weiwei has dipped these vases in industrial paint and even destroyed them to make his own work, Yoon presents them as vessels. Is that a promotion or demotion? Yoon’s work might be a playful misreading of Weiwei’s acts of creative destruction or a cynical appropriation of his commanding presence in the contemporary art market. I rather hope that the latter is the case, and that she’s not mounting a rearguard for tradition, craft, and the Qing Dynasty. The exhibition is on view Tuesdays through Saturdays 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. at Cross Mackenzie Gallery, 1675 Wisconsin Ave. —Kriston Capps NW. Free. (202) 337-7970. crossmackenzie.com.

34 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

---------3701 Mount Vernon Ave. Alexandria, VA • 703-549-7500

For entire schedule go to Birchmere.com Find us on Facebook/Twitter!

Tix @ Ticketmaster.com 800-745-3000

Jan 8

Jeff Daniels

and the Ben

Daniels BanD

9& 10

ricky skaggs & kentucky thunder 11 david cassidy 14 In the Jan 16, 17,18

!

eddie from ohio 16,17 Pat mcGee (solo) 18 Jake Armerding

!

In the

19

Leroy KATE VOEGELE Sanchez 23 Junior Brown 24 Four Bitchin’ BaBes ‘Best of The Babes 25th Anniversary Show’

20

CITY LIGHTS: SUNDAY

PATTON OSWALT Patton Oswalt may be the most brilliant, creative linguist of all comedians working today.

As his remarkable work on albums like 2007’s Werewolves and Lollipops shows, Oswalt is more a joke sculptor than a joke teller, a comic who cares as much about diction as he does selling a punchline. So it’s no big surprise that his upcoming visit to Sixth & I doesn’t involve a stand-up performance. Instead, he’ll discuss his new book, Silver Screen Fiend: Learning About Life from an Addiction to Film—a memoir about his early days as a writer, performer, and movie devourer in Los Angeles—with Slate culture editor Dan Kois. The tone of the book may or may not reflect the essence of his stand-up, but since Oswalt and his fans view him as a bonafide wordsmith, a foray into literature makes sense. He’s been crafting it all along. Patton Oswalt reads at 5 p.m. at Sixth & I Historic Synagogue, 600 I St. —Dean Essner NW. $35. (202) 408-3100. sixthandi.org.

The hamilTon 600 14th St. NW. (202) 787-1000. Yacht Rock Revue. 6:30 p.m. $20–$25. thehamiltondc.com.

Orchestra: The Rite of Spring. 3 p.m. $32–$100. strathmore.org.

Jazz

phillipS collecTion 1600 21st St. NW. (202) 3872151. Timo Andres. 4 p.m. $30. phillipscollection.org.

Zoo Bar 3000 Connecticut Ave. NW. (202) 2324225. Mike Flaherty’s Dixieland Direct Jazz Band. 7:30 p.m. Free. zoobardc.com.

BluEs BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 3374141. Chris Thomas King. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $24. bluesalley.com.

Monday

muSic cenTer aT STraThmore 5301 Tuckerman Lane, Bethesda. (301) 581-5100. Baltimore Symphony

6 8

CHRISETTE MICHELE 11 travis tritt 13 Eric bEnET 14 burlesque-a-pades in loveland!

9&10

feat. angie pontani, The World Famous pontani sisters & more

Funk & r&B

19

ElECtroniC dc9 1940 9th St. NW. (202) 483-5000. Operators, Pleasure Curses. 8:30 p.m. $10–$12. dcnine.com.

Jazz BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 337-4141.

Soulcial Hour. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $20. bluesalley.com.

ClassiCal ioTa cluB & caFé 2832 Wilson Blvd., Arlington.

(703) 522-8340. Mark Sylvester, Kirsten Warfield, Natalie Spehar. 7:30 p.m. $10. iotaclubandcafe.com.

Reunion Show!

Pat McGee Band arlo Guthrie Alice’s Restaurant 50th Anniversary Tour

17

Folk

kennedy cenTer Terrace TheaTer 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. The Kennedy Center Chamber Players. 2 p.m. $36. kennedy-center.org.

Minnie Driver 5 the robert Cray band Feb 4

galaxy huT 2711 Wilson Blvd., Arlington. (703) 525-8646. Rival Nova. 9 p.m. $5. galaxyhut.com.

paTrioT cenTer 4500 Patriot Circle, Fairfax. (703) 993-3000. Sam Smith, George Ezra. 8 p.m. $55. patriotcenter.com.

kennedy cenTer millennium STage 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. The Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra. 6 p.m. Free. kennedy-center.org.

Charles Ross’

15

madam’S organ 2461 18th St. NW. (202) 667-5370.

One Nite Stand. 9 p.m. $3–$7. madamsorgan.com.

ClassiCal

and the Bottle rockets

31

roCk

madam’S organ 2461 18th St. NW. (202) 6675370. The B.T. Richardson Band. 9 p.m. $3–$7. madamsorgan.com.

ioTa cluB & caFé 2832 Wilson Blvd., Arlington.

(703) 522-8340. Eric Brace and Karl Straub. 8:30 p.m. $12. iotaclubandcafe.com.

marshall crenshaw

30

20 21

RideRs in the sky “Salute to Roy Rogers!”

ROBERT EARL KEEN

‘Happy Prisoner: The Bluegrass Tour’

tab benoit

keller williams An Evening with

Don McLean 22 Stanley ClaRke 23 NORTH MISSISSIPPI ALLSTARS & ANDERS OSBORNE PRESENT N.M.O. 24 Uriah heep (Rescheduled from 10/1/14. All 10/1 tickets honored on this new date.)

LEDISI With Special Guests

THE

Intimate

TRUTH TOUr RAHEEM DEVAUGHN LEELA JAMES

Saturday, March 21, 8pm Dar Constitution Hall

Tickets On Sale Now through Ticketmaster.com/800-735-3000

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 35

tuesday roCk madam’S organ 2461 18th St. NW. (202) 6675370. The Johnny Artis Band. 9 p.m. $3–$7. madamsorgan.com.

Funk & r&B

Fillmore Silver Spring 8656 Colesville Road, Silver Spring. (301) 960-9999. Seether, Papa Roach, Kyng, Islander. 6:30 p.m. $37.50. fillmoresilverspring.com. rock & roll hoTel 1353 H St. NE. (202) 388-ROCK. The Vaselines, Amanda X. 8 p.m. $20. rockandrollhoteldc.com. velveT lounge 915 U St. NW. (202) 462-3213.

Clones of Clones, Hank & Cupcakes, Bells & Hunters.

7:30 p.m. $8. velvetloungedc.com.

BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 3374141. Cheri Maree. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $20. bluesalley.com.

Funk & r&B

Jazz

kennedy cenTer millennium STage 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. Jungle Funk. 6 p.m. Free. kennedy-center.org.

TWinS JaZZ 1344 U St. NW. (202) 234-0072. Marty Nau. 8 p.m. $10. twinsjazz.com.

Folk gypSy Sally’S 3401 K St. NW. (202) 333-7700. Dustbowl Revival. 8:30 p.m. $12–$15. gypsysallys.com.

World kennedy cenTer millennium STage 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. KAHULANUI. 6 p.m. Free. kennedy-center.org.

Tropicalia 2001 14th St. NW. (202) 629-4535.

Lolena Naipo. 8 p.m. $15. tropicaliadc.com.

Wednesday roCk

9:30 cluB 815 V St. NW. (202) 265-0930. Cracker, Camper Van Beethoven. 6 p.m. $25. 930.com.

Birchmere 3701 Mount Vernon Ave., Alexandria.

(703) 549-7500. The Psychedelic Furs. 7:30 p.m. $39.50. birchmere.com. dc9 1940 9th St. NW. (202) 483-5000. Phantom Lanterns, Tomato Dodgers, Cartoon Weapons. 7:30 p.m. $8. dcnine.com.

ElECtroniC 9:30 cluB 815 V St. NW. (202) 265-0930. Alvin Risk, Kodak to Graph, Strike Stone, Rucca. 10:30 p.m. $20.

930.com.

Jazz BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 3374141. Kevin Toney. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $25. bluesalley.com.

Country madam’S organ 2461 18th St. NW. (202) 6675370. The Human Country Jukebox Band. 9 p.m. $3–$7. madamsorgan.com.

ClassiCal kennedy cenTer Terrace TheaTer 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. Matthew Polenzani and Julius Drake. 7:30 p.m. $50. kennedy-center.org. manSion aT STraThmore 10701 Rockville Pike, Rockville. (301) 581-5100. invoke. 7:30 p.m. $17. strathmore.org.

CITY LIGHTS: MONDAY

MARILYNNE ROBINSON Marilynne Robinson is a liberal Calvinist from Idaho who has said that all experience is narrated by fate; James Carroll is a Catholic reformer from Chicago who once denounced Pope Benedict XVI as a fundamentalist. When Carroll and Robinson meet for a discussion at the Folger Shakespeare Library, they may plumb spiritual depths usually left undisturbed by book talks. Still, both Carroll and Robinson are comfortable in that typically secular sphere: In 2014, Robinson released Lila, the third novel in her “Gilead” trilogy and a finalist for the 2014 National Book Award, and Carroll won that award in 1996 for An American Requiem, a memoir. What truly sets Carroll and Robinson apart is their unabashed faith, which infuses their fiction and nonfiction alike. Carroll was an ordained priest who served as a chaplain at Boston University; Robinson occasionally preaches at the Congregational United Church of Christ in Iowa City. In a talk between such balanced writers and thinkers, I’m praying for schism: Where Carroll and Robinson disagree on matters of faith and how it informs fiction promises to be a markedly rich realm. Marilynne Robinson reads with James Carroll at 7:30 p.m. at the Folger Elizabethan Theatre, 201 East Capi—Kriston Capps tol St. SE. $15. (202) 544-4600. folger.edu

36 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

charles-Steck Photography

CITY LIGHTS: TUESDAY

3 0 1 - 6 3 3 - 5 6 0 1 charles@steckphotography.com w w w. s t e c k p h o t o g r a p h y. c o m

OUTSIDE THE SPACECRAFT For the past five decades, diehard astronautics fanatics and casual observers alike have been fascinated by humans floating through space. We’ve modeled VMA trophies after them, used the concept as a plot in dozens of movies, and turned it into a summer-camp attraction for awkward tweens. But despite this interest in traveling through the galaxies like Sandra Bullock in Gravity, our reasons for sending people out into the abyss have always seemed kind of vague. Fortunately, the National Air and Space Museum is ready to explain spacewalks to those of us who glean our information more from pop culture than textbooks. “Outside the Spacecraft: 50 Years of Extra-Vehicular Activity” arrives at the Smithsonian museum in conjunction with the 50th anniversary of the first spacewalks and focuses on the work astronauts do when they’re outside the space shuttle, whether building the International Space Station or repairing the Hubble telescope. The exhibition also includes memories from some of the 200 explorers who’ve had the opportunity to explore space. It’s as cool as you think it is. The exhibition is on view daily 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., to June 8, at the National Air and Space Museum, Independence Avenue and 6th Street SW. Free. (202) 633-2214. airandspace.

—Caroline Jones si.edu.

thursday roCk 9:30 cluB 815 V St. NW. (202) 265-0930. Wild Child, Pearl And The Beard, James Tillman. 7 p.m. $15. 930.com.

BarnS aT WolF Trap 1645 Trap Road, Vienna. (703) 255-1900. Kevin Griffin. 8 p.m. $25–$27. wolftrap.org.

THE WORLD FAMOUS HARLEM GOSPEL CHOIR

EVERY SUNDAY !

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1/17 LISA FISCHER

1/23 BOOTSY COLLINS’ RUBBER BAND

2/17 STEPHANIE MILLS

2/18 GEORGE CLINTON & PARLIAMENT FUNKADELIC

FRIDAY JANUARY 9TH

JOHN KADLECIK & THE DC MYSTERY CATS CRIS JACOBS

SUNDAY JANUARY 18TH

FRIDAY JANUARY 23RD

THE ULTIMATE REUNION

JUVENILE & BACKYARD BAND

RARE ESSENCE TROUBLE FUNK

SATURDAY JANUARY 10TH

MONDAY JANUARY 19TH

HILL HARPER PRESENTS

THE MUSIC OF ARETHA FRANKLIN

DANCING WITH MYD MANIFEST YOUR DESTINY FOUNDATION

THURSDAY JANUARY 15TH

JON B

1/31 TRUBITE TO THE MUSIC MOTOWN 2/5 MIDNITE 2/6 WHITE FORD BRONCO 2/8 A DRAG VALENTINE’S SALUTE TO THE DIVAS: WHAT SHI-QUEETA-LEE HAS DONE WITH IT

2/19 PRHYME (DJ PREMIER & ROYCE DA 5’9”)

MARTIN LUTHER KING DAY CELEBRATION

FT. ADA DYER & THE “A” BAND

LATE SHOW HIP HOP LIVS PRESENTS

FRIDAY JANUARY 30TH

BLACK MOON & PHAROAHE MONCH FRIDAY JANUARY 30TH LATE SHOW

THURSDAY JANUARY 22ND

FOUSEYTUBE

SPACE JESUS & FREDDY TODD

2/26 BLUES AT THE CROSSROADS” 3/21 FT. IRMA THOMAS, LEE FIELDS, 3/21 3/25 ERIC KRASNO, ALECIA CHAKOUR & THE DYNAMITES 3/26 2/28 THE PRINCE & MICHAEL JACKSON EXPERIENCE 4/11 3/5 RED BARAAT’S 4/25 FESTIVAL OF COLORS 3/20 RAUL ROMERO DE LOS 4/30

DELTANINE, SOOHAN

MAYSA LATE FAMILIAR FACES TITLE FIGHT & LA DISPUTE KID CREOLE & THE COCONUTS MIXTAPE KEITH SWEAT: ALBUM RELEASE SHOW SHEILA E.

620 T ST. NW WASHINGTON DC - THEHOWARDTHEATRE.COM - 202.803.2899 washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 37

CITY LIGHTS: WEDNESDAY Bohemian Caverns Tuesdays Artist in Residency

Heidi N JA Martin

DC’s Legendary Jazz Club

Established in 1926 2001 11th ST NW - (202)299-0800

American Crooner Tour

Vinx

Quartet

Mad Curious B FE

Lenny Robinson

a Special Bohemian Caverns presentation

Buster Williams &

Larry Willis

Thur Jan 8th

The

Young Lions

Fri & Sat

Fri & Sat Jan 9th & 10th

Quamon Fowler Mat Mitchell & Ches Smith presented in conjunction w/ Transparent Productions

Sun Jan 11th

Jason Hwang’s SING HOUSE presented in conjunction w/ Transparent Productions

Sun Jan 18th

Bohemian Caverns Jazz Orchestra

Jan 16th & 17th

Valentine’s DayWeekend Aaron “Ab” Abernathy w/ Nat Turner Fri Feb 13th

Loide Sat Feb 14th

www.BohemianCaverns.com

38 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

The members of Anamanaguchi describe themselves as either a boy band of hackers or Ninja Turtles, depending on who you ask. Their music, inspired by Super Nintendo games and many rounds of laser tag at the local arcade, combines ‘90s-kid nostalgia with danceable melodies. Composed of cheery chiptuned tones and feverish BPMs, the band’s jams could double as the soundtrack to the raddest real-life bonus level. And this arcade-rave outfit has the repertoire to back it up: In 2010, the group scored a video-game adaptation of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Last May, Anamanaguchi released Endless Fantasy, an album the band says covers “reality and dreams, being young, and searching for agency in an infinite existence.” If you’ve been hoarding your gold coins, now might be the time to trade them in for tickets to this show. Anamanaguchi performs with Maxo at 7 p.m. at U Street Music —Tim Regan Hall, 1115 U St. NW. $15. (202) 588-1889. ustreetmusichall.com. dc9 1940 9th St. NW. (202) 483-5000. Bane, AXIS, Supreme Commander, Walk The Plan. 7:30 p.m. $12–$14. dcnine.com. gypSy Sally’S 3401 K St. NW. (202) 333-7700. The Mallett Brothers, Brock Butler. 8:30 p.m. $10–$12. gypsysallys.com.

Mondays @ 8pm

"This group is something special." ~ Mike West (CityPaper)

ANAMANAGUCHI

rock & roll hoTel 1353 H St. NE. (202) 388-ROCK. The Lucky So So’s, All the Best Kids, Tara Trinity and Far Exp. 8 p.m. $12. rockandrollhoteldc.com. velveT lounge 915 U St. NW. (202) 462-3213. The Treads, Matt Tarka. 7:30 p.m. $8. velvetloungedc.com.

Funk & r&B hoWard TheaTre 620 T St. NW. (202) 803-2899.

Jon B., Katt Rockell. 8 p.m. $20–$55. thehowardtheatre.com. ioTa cluB & caFé 2832 Wilson Blvd., Arlington.

(703) 522-8340. Backbeat Underground. 8:30 p.m. $10. iotaclubandcafe.com.

ElECtroniC Tropicalia 2001 14th St. NW. (202) 629-4535.

Rabit, Tripletrain. 9 p.m. $8–$10. tropicaliadc.com.

Jazz BlueS alley 1073 Wisconsin Ave. NW. (202) 3374141. Cyrus Chestnut. 8 p.m. & 10 p.m. $27.50. bluesalley.com.

ClassiCal kennedy cenTer concerT hall 2700 F St. NW. (202) 467-4600. National Symphony Orchestra with Tzimon Barto. 7 p.m. $10–$85. kennedy-center.org.

theater

Bad JeWS Three cousins—one secular, one nonsecular, and one somewhere in the middle—fight over a family heirloom following the death of their grandfather in this comedy that blends family and faith. Studio Theatre. 1501 14th St. NW. To Jan. 18. $20-$78. (202) 332-3300. studiotheatre.org. choir Boy When a prestigious boarding school for young African-American men falls on hard financial times, its acclaimed gospel choir feels the pressure.

The young man chosen to lead the group must decide whether that responsibility is worth ignoring his sexual orientation in this new musical story by playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney. Studio Theatre. 1501 14th St.

D.C.’s awesomest events calendar. washingtoncitypaper.com/ calendar

UPTOWN BLUES

w/

Open Mic Blues JaM Big Boy LittLe every Thursday

Sookey Jump BLueS Band Smokin’ poLecatS moonShine Society Stacy BrookS BLueS Band Swamp keeperS Band Bruce ewan

Fri. Jan. 9 Sat. Jan. 10 Fri. Jan. 16 Sat. Jan. 17 Fri. Jan. 23 Sat. Jan. 24

the red harmonica king

Sundays mike FLaherty’S

dixieLand direct Jazz Band

washingtoncitypaper.com

LIVE WILLIE

UPCOMING PERFORMANCES

WATSON W/ ELLE KING

THURSDAY

JAN 8

PAUL BARRERE

& FRED TACKETT

OF LITTLE FEAT W/ THE NEW ORLEANS SUSPECTS

FRI & SAT

JAN 9 & 10

SUN, JAN 11

YACHT ROCK REVUE SAT, JAN 17

COREY SMITH

W/ THE WIND AND THE WAVE WED, JAN 21

SPIRIT FAMILY REUNION W/ 19TH STREET BAND SAT, JAN 24

FLOW TRIBE W/ DEAD 27s SUN, JAN 25

THE STEEL WHEELS

www.bethesdabluesjazz.com

J

A

N

U

A

R

THE BAD PLUS

Y

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9

LANDAU MURPHY, JR.

SA 10 THE VI-KINGS SU 11

3000 Connecticut Avenue, NW

JAN 8

JUST ADDED

DOBET GNAHORÉ

ILYAIMY

AMERICAN FOLK BAND “I LOVE YOU AND I MISS YOU”

(across from the National Zoo)

202-232-4225 zoobardc.com

Contemporary African grooves and gorgeous ballads

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16

CAMEO

$10 BURGER & BEER MON-FRI 4 P M -7 P M

(7P & 10P SHOWS)

TRIVIA EVERY W E D N E S D AY

$3 PBR & NATTY BOH ALL DAY EVERY DAY

600 beers from around the world Downstairs: good food, great beer, $3 PBR & Natty Boh’s all day every day

*all shows 21+

T H U R S D AY,

CHAMBER MUSIC AT THE BARNS

REDMOND, LANGOSCH & COOLEY SU 18

JAN 8TH

UNDERGROUND COMEDY

THE SOUL SERENADERS PLUS MARK WENNER’S BLUES WARRIORS

OF BETTER THAN EZRA

IN THE COOKE BOOK, THE MUSIC OF SAM COOKE

DOORS OPEN AT 8PM SHOW AT 10PM $20 AT THE DOOR

F 23

BE’LA DONA

JAN 16

FRIDAY, JANUARY 30

M O N D AY, J A N 1 2 T H

THREE-TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNER FROM O BROTHER WHERE ART THOU?

DISTRICT TRIVIA

STARTS AT 730PM NO COVER

DR. RALPH STANLEY & FRIENDS

T U E S D AY, J A N 1 3 T H

830PM NO COVER

KEVIN GRIFFIN

DARRIAN FORD

JAN 9TH

ELLIE QUINN BURLESQUE

LAST RESTOR COMEDY SHOW

JAN 15

WEDNESDAY JANUARY 21

SHOW STARTS AT 830PM NO COVER

DEVIL’S BACKBONE DARK ABBEY RELEASE AND INGREDIENT TASTING

JAN 9

THE YING QUARTET SATURDAY, JANUARY 17

F R I D AY,

TONIGHT AT 8 PM!

W/ GLENN LEONARD, THE TEMPTATIONS FORMER LEAD SINGER

THE IGUANAS

GENERAL ADMISSION DANCE

Bourbon Street party-starters mix rock, R&B, and Mexican melodies

FEAT. THE CLINCH MOUNTAIN BOYS

W E D N E S D AY, J A N 1 4 T H

ALEX STAR COMEDY

DOORS AT 630PM SHOW STARTS AT 830PM $10 AT THE DOOR

SA 31 NEWMYER FLYER PRESENTS: A DREAM DISCS TRIPLE HEADER

TRIVIA WITH EARTH

TRIVIA STARTS AT 730PM NO COVER T H U R S D AY, J A N 1 5 T H

UNDERGROUND COMEDY

NO COVER SHOW STARTS AT 830PM F R I D AY, J A N 1 6 T H

WEIRDO SHOW

DOORS OPEN AT 8PM SHOW STARTS AT 10PM $20 AT THE DOOR

F F6

E

B

R

U

A

R

JAN 23

Y

CANELLAKIS�BROWN DUO

BUDDY HOLLY TRIBUTE

CHAMBER MUSIC AT THE BARNS

JUST ANNOUNCED

VALENTINE’S DAY WEEKEND SA 14 THE DUKE ELLINGTON ORCHESTRA SU 15 THE DUKE ELLINGTON ORCHESTRA

S A T U R D AY, J A N 1 7 T H

BLACK MARKET BURLESQUE

DOORS OPEN AT 8PM SHOW STARTS AT 10PM $20 AT THE DOOR

THEHAMILTONDC.COM

1523 22nd St NW – Washington, DC 20037 (202) 293-1887 - www.bierbarondc.com @bierbarondc.com for news and events

JAN 24

7719 Wisconsin Ave., Bethesda, MD (240) 330-4500

LAURA BENANTI ARI HEST SEE FULL SCHEDULE AT

Two Blocks from Bethesda Metro/Red Line Free Parking on Weekends

WOLFTRAP.ORG

washingtoncitypaper.com JANUARY 9, 2015 39

NW. To Feb. 22. $20-$78. (202) 332-3300. studiotheatre.org. diner Signature presents the world premiere of this new music based on Barry Levinson’s coming of age tale set in a Baltimore restaurant. Levinson adapted his screenplay into the show’s book and Sheryl Crow crafted the music and lyrics; Tony Award-winner Kathleen Marshall choreographs and directs. Signature Theatre.

4200 Campbell Ave., Arlington. To Jan. 25. $29-$70.

(703) 820-9771. signature-theatre.org. guTenBerg! The muSical This musical, developed at New York’s Upright Citizens Brigade, chronicles the development of the printing press and provides a fictional take on the life of Johann Gutenberg. Next Stop Theatre. 269 Sunset Park Drive, Herndon. To Feb. 1. $28. (703) 481-5930. nextstoptheatre.org. liFe SuckS (or The preSenT ridiculouS) Aaron Posner, the writer of Woolly Mammoth’s acclaimed Stupid Fucking Bird, presents this loose adaptation of Chekov’s Uncle Vanya, which follows three individuals as they struggle with love and longing. Theater J. 1529 16th St. NW. To Feb. 15. $10-$65. (202) 518-9400. theaterj.org.

The T parTy Local playwright Natsu Onoda Powers explores the transformation and transgression of gender norms through scenes, songs, and dances in this production based on real stories. Forum Theatre at Silver Spring Black Box Theatre. 8641 Colesville Road, Silver Spring. To Jan. 17. $20-$25. (240) 644-1390. forum-theatre.org.

The TempeST Shakespeare’s magical tale of sorcerers, monsters, and trapped daughters comes to life in a new presentation helmed by former STC Associate Director Ethan McSweeny. Sidney Harman Hall. 610 F St. NW. To Jan. 11. $55-$110. (202) 547-1122. shakespearetheatre.org.

The Whale A morbidly obese, housebound man struggles to reconnect with his sullen teenage daughter in this impactful comedy by Samuel D. Hunter. Rep Stage at Howard Community College. 10901 Little Patuxent Parkway, Columbia. To Feb. 1. $15-$40. (443) 518-1500. repstage.org.

Where did We SiT on The BuS? Brian Quijada’s one-man show about Latino identity in America combines spoken word, live looping, and hip-hop. Kennedy Center Theater Lab. 2700 F St. NW. To Jan. 12.

Free. 202-467-4600. kennedy-center.org.

FilM Big eyeS Artist Margaret Keane’s husband took credit for her work for years. Director Tim Burton’s movie tracks their marriage and the legal battles that followed their fallout. (See washingtoncitypaper.com for venue information) The gamBler A college literature professor (Mark Wahlberg) accrues plenty of debt and a few enemies as a gambling addict. (See washingtoncitypaper.com for venue information) vice Writer-director Paul Thomas n inherenT Anderson (There Will Be Blood) takes on Thomas Pynchon’s novel about a drug-addled detective’s 1970 investigation for a missing former flame. Starring Joaquin Phoenix, Josh Brolin, and Joanna Newsom.

(See washingtoncitypaper.com for venue information) mr. Turner A film following the later years of British painter J.M.W. Turner (Timothy Spall) in the 19th century. Written and directed by Mike Leigh (HappyGo-Lucky). (See washingtoncitypaper.com for venue information) Time travelers attempt to n predeSTinaTion stop crimes before they take place. Starring Ethan Hawke, Sarah Snook, and Noah Taylor. Based on Robert A. Heinlein’s story All You Zombies. (See washingtoncitypaper.com for venue information) Taken 3 Liam Neeson’s character returns to clear n his name after he is wrongly accused of a murder.

(See washingtoncitypaper.com for venue information)

Film clips are written by Reese Higgins.

PETER TRAVERS

A TRULY GREAT AMERICAN FILM.

“

‘Selma’ isn’t just a biopic. By seeing Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. through the prism of one crucial event, the film offers a rousing portrait of a born preacher not without sin. It’s in the quiet moments of humor, heartbreak, and stabbing self-doubt that we see a man in full.

ONE OF THE BEST

FILMS OF THE YEAR

”

ONE OF THE BEST PERFORMANCES OF THE YEAR .

NEW YORK FILM CRITICS ONLINE

David Oyelowo as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

BOSTON SOCIET Y OF FILM CRITICS

CITY LIGHTS: THURSDAY

RECORDS COLLECTING DUST NOW PLAYING IN THEATRES EVERYWHERE CHECK LOCAL LISTINGS FOR THEATRES AND SHOW TIMES / NO PASSES ACCEPTED

ATTENTION AMPAS AND GUILD MEMBERS: Your card and picture ID will admit you and a guest to any performance as follows (subject to seating availability): CINEMARK will admit guild member only: AMPAS, DGA, PGA and WGA (Valid 7 days a week). REGAL will admit: AMPAS, DGA, PGA and WGA (Mon-Thur only). Please check newspaper circuit listing for theatre locations & showtimes. Theatre list subject to change.

40 JANUARY 9, 2015 washingtoncitypaper.com

Some people judge potential new acquaintances based on the books they say they love.

Others judge new friends and, let’s be honest, old friends, by their record collections. Director Jason Blackmore experiments with this premise by asking underground musicians like Jello Biafra, Keith Morris, and John Reis to reveal their music libraries to him. The result is a series of conversations that touch on bygone record stores, favorite albums (be it Sgt. Pepper or an obscure 7-inch), and the first time these musicians heard the albums that changed their lives. Where better to screen Blackmore’s exploration of personal music history than backstage at the Black Cat? The film shows at 8 p.m. at the Black Cat Backstage, —Caroline Jones 1811 14th St. NW. $7. (202) 667-4490. blackcatdc.com.

SHOWTIMES jan. 9–jan. 15, 2015 Times currenT as of 4 p.m. Wednesday

REPERTORY AFI Silver Theatre and Cultural Center 8633 Colesville Road, Silver Spring (301) 495-6700

Birdman (R) 119 mins.

Fri. 4:40, 7:05, 9:30; Sat. 11:45, 4:40, 7:05, 9:30; Sun. 11:45, 4:40, 7:05, 10:00; Mon.-Wed. 11:45, 4:40, 7:05, 9:30; Thu. 11:45, 4:40, 9:30

Force Majeure (Turist) (R) 120 mins.

Thu. 7:15

The Imitation Game (PG-13) 114 mins.

Fri. 12:10, 2:20, 4:30, 6:55, 9:20; Sat. 11:30, 2:00, 4:30, 6:55, 9:20; Sun. 12:30, 3:00, 5:30, 8:00; Mon.-Wed. 11:30, 2:00, 4:30, 6:55, 9:20; Thu. 12:10, 2:20, 4:30, 6:55, 10:00

Inherent Vice (R) 148 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 1:30, 4:20, 7:15, 10:10; Sun. 1:30, 4:20, 7:15, 9:30; Mon.-Thu. 11:40, 2:30, 5:20, 8:15

The Theory of Everything (PG-13) 123 mins.

Fri.-Sun. 11:00, 2:10; Mon.-Thu. 2:10

DISTRICT Angelika Pop-Up at Union Market Between 5th & 6th Streets NE (571)512-3313

Boyhood (R) 160 mins.

Fri.-Tue. 6:00; Wed. midnight; Thu. 6:00

Force Majeure (Turist) (R) 120 mins.

Fri.-Mon. 3:40; Tue. 3:40; Wed.-Thu. 3:40

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (NR) 104 mins.

Fri.-Sun. 11:15, 1:15, 3:15, 5:15, 7:20, 9:30; Mon. 11:15, 1:15, 3:15, 5:15, 7:20; Tue. 11:15, 1:15, 3:15, 5:15, 7:20; Wed. 11:15, 1:15, 3:15, 5:15, 7:20; Thu. 11:15, 1:15, 3:15, 5:15, 7:15

Gone Girl (R) 145 mins.

Fri.-Sun. 1:00, 4:00, 7:00, 9:50; Mon. 1:00, 4:00, 7:00; Tue. 1:00, 4:00, 7:00; Wed.-Thu. 1:00, 4:00, 7:00

Whiplash (R) 105 mins.

Fri.-Sun. 11:00, 1:20, 9:20; Mon. 11:00, 1:20; Tue. 1:20, 11:00; Wed. 6:00; Thu. 11:00, 1:20

West End Cinema 2301 M Street NW (202)419-3456

The Babadook (NR) 92 mins.

Fri. 9:40; Sat.-Sun. 12:40, 9:40; Mon.-Thu. 9:40

Boyhood (R) 160 mins.

Fri. 2:40, 6:30; Sat.-Sun. 2:40, 6:30; Mon.-Thu. 2:40, 6:30

Citizenfour (R) 114 mins.

Fri. 5:00; Sat.-Sun. 12:20, 5:00; Mon.-Thu. 5:00

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (NR) 104 mins.

Fri. 2:40, 7:20, 9:30; Sat.-Sun. 2:40, 7:20, 9:30; Mon.-Thu. 2:40, 7:20, 9:30

The Interview (R) 112 mins.

Fri. 2:20, 7:00; Sat.-Sun. 2:20, 7:00; Mon.-Thu. 2:20, 7:00

The Imitation Game (PG-13) 114 mins.

Unbroken (PG-13) 137 mins.

Inherent Vice (R) 148 mins.

The Wedding Ringer (R) 101 mins.

Fri. 1:05, 4:05, 7:05, 9:55; Sat.-Sun. 10:10, 1:05, 4:05, 7:05, 9:55; Mon.-Thu. 1:05, 4:05, 7:05, 9:55 Fri. 12:45, 4:15, 7:45, 9:45, 11:00; Sat. 10:00, 12:45, 4:15, 7:45, 9:45, 11:00; Sun. 10:00, 12:45, 4:15, 7:45, 9:30; Mon.-Thu. 12:45, 4:15, 7:45, 9:30

Mr. Turner (R) 149 mins.

Whiplash (R) 105 mins.

Fri. 4:40, 9:20; Sat.-Sun. noon, 4:40, 9:20; Mon.-Thu. 4:40, 9:20

Fri. 1:30, 5:00, 8:30; Sat.-Sun. 10:15, 1:30, 5:00, 8:30; Mon.-Thu. 1:30, 5:00, 8:30

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (R) 100 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 11:59

AMC Loews Cineplex Uptown 3426 Connecticut Ave. NW (202) 333-FILM #799

The Imitation Game (PG-13) 114 mins.

Fri. 4:00, 7:00, 10:00; Sat. 1:00, 4:00, 7:00, 10:00; Sun. 1:00, 4:00, 7:00; Mon.-Thu. 5:00, 8:00

AMC Mazza Gallerie 5300 Wisconsin Ave. NW (202) 537-9553

Annie (PG) 118 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 1:20, 4:20, 7:20, 10:15; Sun.-Wed. 1:20, 4:20, 7:20; Thu. 1:20, 4:10

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies in 3D (PG-13) 144 mins.

Fri.-Sun. 12:50, 7:10; Mon.-Tue. 12:05; Wed. 12:50, 7:10

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (PG-13) 144 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 4:00, 10:35; Sun. 4:00; Mon.-Tue. 3:20; Wed. 4:00

Into the Woods (PG) 124 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 1:50, 4:45, 7:40, 10:30; Sun.-Thu. 1:50, 4:45, 7:40

Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb (PG) 97 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 12:30, 3:00, 5:25, 7:50, 10:20; Sun.Thu. 12:30, 3:00, 5:25, 7:50

Selma (PG-13) 127 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 1:30, 4:30, 7:30, 10:25; Sun.-Thu. 1:30, 4:30, 7:30

Taken 3 (PG-13) 103 mins.

Fri.-Sat. noon, 2:40, 5:20, 8:00, 10:40; Sun.Thu. noon, 2:40, 5:20, 8:00

Fri. 1:20, 4:10, 7:00; Sat.-Sun. 10:40, 1:20, 4:10, 7:00; Mon.-Thu. 1:20, 4:10, 7:00

Wild (R) 115 mins.

Fri. 1:15, 4:15, 7:15, 9:40; Sat.-Sun. 10:05, 1:15, 4:15, 7:15, 9:40; Mon.-Thu. 1:15, 4:15, 7:15, 9:40

707 7th St. NW (202) 393-2121

Thu. 7:00, 10:20

Annie (PG) 118 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 11:30, 2:20, 5:20, 8:10, 11:00; Sun. 2:20, 5:20, 8:10, 11:00; Mon. 12:20, 3:30, 6:50, 10:05; Tue.-Wed. 12:20, 3:30, 10:50; Thu. 12:20, 3:30

Blackhat (R) 133 mins.

Big Eyes (PG-13) 106 mins.

Fri. 1:45, 4:30, 7:30, 9:50; Sat.-Sun. 11:15, 1:45, 4:30, 7:30, 9:50; Mon. 1:45, 4:30, 9:50; Tue.Thu. 1:45, 4:30, 7:30, 9:50

Birdman (R) 119 mins.

Fri. 1:10, 4:00, 6:50, 9:25; Sat.-Sun. 10:35, 1:10, 4:00, 6:50, 9:25; Mon. 1:10, 4:00, 6:50, 9:25; Tue.-Wed. 1:10, 9:25; Thu. 1:10, 4:00, 6:50, 9:25

Blade Runner: The Final Cut (R) 117 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 11:59

Bound (NR) 90 mins.

Fri. 11:59

Foxcatcher (R) 134 mins.

Fri. 12:45, 3:45, 6:45, 9:45; Sat. 10:00, 12:45, 3:45, 6:45, 9:45; Sun. 10:00, 12:45, 3:45, 6:45, 9:35; Mon.-Thu. 12:45, 3:45, 6:45, 9:35

The Gambler (R) 101 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 12:10, 11:30; Sun. 12:50, 9:35; Mon. 11:55, 2:40, 5:25, 8:10, 10:55; Tue. 11:55, 2:40, 5:40, 8:10, 10:55; Wed. 11:55, 2:40, 5:25, 8:10, 10:55; Thu. 11:55, 2:40, 7:20, 10:55

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies in HFR 3D (PG-13) 144 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 3:25, 10:20; Sun. 4:05, 10:50; Mon.Wed. 3:25, 10:20; Thu. 3:15, 10:10

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (PG-13) 144 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 11:40, 6:45; Sun. 12:50, 7:25; Mon.Wed. 11:40, 6:45; Thu. 11:55

Birdman (R) 119 mins.

Fri. 1:50, 4:30, 7:15, 9:55; Sat.-Sun. 11:00, 1:50, 4:30, 7:15, 9:55; Mon.-Thu. 1:50, 4:30, 7:15, 9:55

Force Majeure (Turist) (R) 120 mins.

Fri. 1:00, 1:30, 2:00, 3:45, 4:15, 4:40, 6:30, 7:00, 7:20, 9:20, 9:45; Sat. 10:15, 10:45, 11:15, 1:00, 1:30, 2:00, 3:45, 4:15, 4:40, 6:30, 7:00, 7:20, 9:20, 9:45; Sun. 10:15, 10:45, 1:00, 1:30, 2:00, 3:45, 4:15, 4:40, 6:30, 7:00, 7:20, 9:20, 9:45; Mon.-Thu. 1:00, 1:30, 2:00, 3:45, 4:15, 4:40, 6:30, 7:00, 7:20, 9:20, 9:45 Fri. 1:10, 4:20, 7:30, 9:15; Sat.-Sun. 10:00, 1:10, 4:20, 7:30, 9:15; Mon.-Thu. 1:10, 4:20, 7:30, 9:15

The Theory of Everything (PG-13) 123 mins.

Fri. 1:45, 4:25, 7:05, 9:50; Sat.-Sun. 10:30, 1:45, 4:25, 7:05, 9:50; Mon.-Thu. 1:45, 4:25, 7:05, 9:50

Whiplash (R) 105 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 1:40, 4:10, 6:50, 10:00; Sun. 11:10, 1:40, 4:10, 6:50, 10:00; Mon.-Thu. 1:40, 4:10, 6:50, 10:00

VIRGINIA AMC Loews Cineplex Shirlington

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1 (PG-13) 123 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 1:30, 4:30, 7:40, 11:05; Sun. 1:30, 4:30, 7:40, 10:55; Mon.-Wed. 1:30, 4:30, 7:40, 11:00; Thu. 1:30, 4:30 Fri.-Thu. 12:20, 3:30, 6:40, 10:00

Fri.-Sat. 12:40, 3:20, 6:15, 8:45, 11:15; Sun.Mon. 12:40, 3:20, 6:15, 8:45; Tue. 12:40, 3:10, 8:45; Wed. 3:20, 6:15, 8:45; Thu. 11:35, 2:10, 4:40

Paddington (PG) 95 mins.

2772 S. Randolph Road, Arlington (703) 333-FILM #756

Big Eyes (PG-13) 106 mins.

Fri. 1:00, 3:45, 6:30, 9:15; Sat. 10:30, 1:00, 3:45, 6:30, 9:15; Sun. 10:30, 1:00, 3:45, 6:30; Mon.Thu. 1:00, 3:45, 6:30

Birdman (R) 119 mins.

Fri. 1:15, 4:00, 7:00, 9:45; Sat. 10:15, 1:15, 4:00, 7:00, 9:45; Sun. 10:15, 1:15, 4:00, 7:00; Mon.Thu. 1:15, 4:00, 7:00

Foxcatcher (R) 134 mins.

Fri.-Thu. 1:30, 7:30

The Imitation Game (PG-13) 114 mins.

Thu. 7:30, 10:00

Selma (PG-13) 127 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 11:50, 12:50, 1:50, 3:00, 4:10, 5:20, 6:30, 7:30, 8:30, 9:40, 10:35, 11:35; Sun. 11:50, 12:50, 2:10, 3:00, 4:10, 5:20, 6:30, 7:30, 8:30, 9:40, 10:35; Mon.-Thu. 11:50, 12:50, 1:50, 3:00, 4:10, 5:20, 6:30, 7:30, 8:30, 9:40, 10:35

Taken 3 (PG-13) 103 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 11:45, 1:00, 2:25, 3:10, 4:00, 5:10, 6:00, 7:00, 8:00, 8:50, 9:50, 10:45; Sun. 11:30, 1:00, 2:25, 3:35, 4:15, 5:10, 6:25, 7:05, 8:00, 9:50, 10:45; Mon.-Thu. 11:45, 1:00, 2:25, 4:00, 5:10, 7:00, 8:00, 9:50, 10:45

Top Five (R) 101 mins.

7235 Woodmont Ave, Bethesda (301) 652-7273

Mr. Turner (R) 149 mins.

Thu. 8:00, 11:00

The Wedding Ringer (R) 101 mins.

555 11th Street NW. (202) 452-7672

MARYLAND

The Imitation Game (PG-13) 114 mins.

American Sniper (R) 134 mins.

Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb (PG) 97 mins.

E Street Cinema

Fri.-Thu. noon, 2:40, 5:15, 7:55, 10:30

Fri. 1:20, 4:05, 6:45, 9:30; Sat.-Sun. 10:40, 1:20, 4:05, 6:45, 9:30; Mon.-Thu. 1:20, 4:05, 6:45, 9:30

Regal Gallery Place

Into the Woods (PG) 124 mins.

Thu. 7:00

Thu. 7:15, 10:15

The Woman in Black 2: Angel of Death (PG-13) 90 mins.

Bethesda Row Cinema

The Theory of Everything (PG-13) 123 mins.

Unbroken (PG-13) 137 mins.

Fri.-Sat. 12:40, 3:50, 7:00, 10:10; Sun.-Thu. 12:40, 3:50, 7:00

Fri.-Sat. 12:30, 4:10, 7:20, 10:45; Sun. 12:55, 4:10, 7:20, 10:45; Mon.-Thu. 12:30, 4:10, 7:20, 10:45

Fri.-Mon. 11:35, 2:15, 4:50, 8:15, 10:50; Tue. 11:35, 2:15, 4:50, 10:50; Wed. 11:35, 2:15, 4:50, 8:15, 10:50; Thu. 11:35, 2:15, 4:50

Fri. 12:45, 2:15, 3:30, 5:00, 6:15, 7:45, 9:00, 10:30; Sat. 10:00, 11:30, 12:45, 2:15, 3:30, 5:00, 6:15, 7:45, 9:00, 10:30; Sun. 10:00, 11:30, 12:45, 2:15, 3:30, 5:00, 6:15, 7:45; Mon.-Thu. 12:45, 2:15, 3:30, 5:00, 6:15, 7:45

Mr. Turner (R) 149 mins.

Fri. noon, 3:15, 6:45, 10:00; Sat. 11:45, 3:15, 6:45, 10:00; Sun. 11:45, 3:15, 6:45; Mon.-Thu. noon, 3:15, 6:45

The Theory of Everything (PG-13) 123 mins.

Fri. 4:30, 10:30; Sat. 10:30, 4:30, 10:30; Sun. 10:30, 4:30; Mon.-Thu. 4:30

Wild (R) 115 mins.

Fri. 1:30, 4:15, 7:15, 10:15; Sat. 10:45, 1:30, 4:15, 7:15, 10:15; Sun. 10:45, 1:30, 4:15, 7:15; Mon.Thu. 1:30, 4:15, 7:15

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