Daily Bruin

By Michael Tatum

"Hey, enough with the requests already … I’ve got an
agenda!"

So quipped folk singer-songwriter Loudon Wainwright III in the
middle of his show to a fan who just had to hear "Screaming
Issue."

Of course, Wainwright didn’t really have an "agenda" – he
consulted a tiny scrap of paper in the beginning of his set, only
never to look at it again for the remainder of the evening. Like
many sets at McCabe’s Guitar Shop, where Wainwright performed three
shows Saturday, Sept. 24, and Sunday, Sept. 25, his solo acoustic
set relied on spontaneity, audience participation, and best of all,
the help of a surprise special guest.

Although Wainwright has been making records for well over 20
years on various labels, he’s never really risen above cult status
– unless you want to count his fluke radio hit "Dead Skunk," a
charming paean to roadkill. Nevertheless, his songs have been
covered by artists as disparate as Johnny Cash, Big Star and Kate
and Anna McGarrigle.

Not that the guy seems to mind his lack of commercial success;
indeed, he seems to revel in it. On his last album, the live
"Career Moves," he sings a tongue-in-cheek song bemoaning Tower
Records employees who can’t spell his name correctly on his
section’s placard. In the hilarious monologue preceding that song,
he rationalizes that at least he finally has a section ("For years
they just stuck my records in with Jerry Jeff Walker’s and Tom
Waits. ‘It’s a W, just put it in there. Who’s he?’").

Naturally, Wainwright’s wit remained intact for the duration of
his McCabe’s appearance, whether in song or in between-song patter.
The best patter of the evening?: "Okay, here’s my Pete Seeger
impersonation…’If everyone in the world would just stand together
and hold hands, then two-thirds of us would be underwater!"

The best song of the evening? Well, there you’d be in tricky
territory, but this particular fan would cite the perennial "The
Man Who Couldn’t Cry," in which the hard-hearted protagonist gets
to exact his revenge on all those who wronged him once he dies and
goes to heaven (his ex-wife dies of stretchmarks), and "He Said,
She Said," a pillow talk dialogue that displays Wainwright’s
attraction to bad puns and scatological humor ("’Please do not
speak softly’, she said/’When carrying your stick’)

Actually, most of the songs were unfamiliar even to the ears of
many Wainwright aficionados in the audience. Wainwright, who hasn’t
put out a new studio album since 1992’s "History," dedicated at
least half of his set to showcasing new material.

Like the dozens of songs Wainwright has already put on vinyl and
aluminum-coated plastic, these songs explored the same well-worn
themes: love, and its inevitable propensity to blow up in your
face; and family, particularly the kids who don’t get to see dad
after his and mom’s relationship hits the skids.

At their best, they combined the wry insight and touching
poignancy that has been Wainwright’s trademark for years. The room
nearly stood still when he sang a song about his one-year-old
daughter who he has seen only once, though he’s passed by her house
a million times ever since. He sang sadly that no matter how he
explains his reason for keeping his distance, she’ll never
understand. All he knows is that once he picks her up, he won’t be
able to put her back down, and that visiting her breaks his heart
because he knows he can’t stay.

The daughter got to speak her side in the song that immediately
followed, through the mouth of Martha, Wainwright’s 18-year-old,
the subject of many of his previous songs, including "Five Years
Old" and "Your Mother And I." The first part of this song, which
Wainwright claimed Martha herself will sing if he ever gets around
to recording it, finds the daughter scolding the wayward dad (who
in real life and in song has several sons and daughters from
several moms) that he’s "uptight," "never around," and that
regardless how much he tries to rationalize what he has done in his
songs, it doesn’t excuse his behavior. Wainwright replies in his
verse that he knows singing about what he’s done won’t make right
his wrongs, but this is his way of expiating his guilt. The guy in
the songs "isn’t him," but rather a moral apotheosis of someone who
his fans wish he could be. No matter how much Wainwright may joke
that this piece is his way of getting "the last word" you can tell
from his plaintive delivery that Martha wins the argument
anyway.

All the while Wainwright had been performing, the audience
couldn’t help but notice a second acoustic guitar propped against a
stand in the background. That could only mean a special surprise
guest – one at every show seems to constitute a sort of unwritten
tradition at McCabe’s. Though admittedly, the audience probably
wondered who would have the audacity to play a guitar with a price
tag still on it.

That man turned out to be legend Richard Thompson, who
Wainwright, after observing the British cult hero in black hiking
shorts, mused had "the best legs in folk music."

Of course, he’s more than just that. Thompson, considered to be
one of the best guitarists in rock ‘n’ roll, first made his mark in
the English folk group Fairport Convention. In the 20 years since
he bowed out from their lineup, he has made many well received
records either on his own or with his one-time wife Linda. With
her, he created the brilliant "Shoot Out The Lights," which
rightfully earned its place as one Rolling Stone Magazine’s Top 10
Albums of the 1980s. The man even has his own tribute record coming
out this Tuesday on Capitol, "Beat The Retreat," on which longtime
fans like R.E.M. and Bonnie Raitt get to pay their respects.

The songs on which Thompson guested weren’t exactly Wainwright’s
best, though their covers of The Coasters (a sing-a-long "Smokey
Joe’s Cafe") and Marty Robbins fared much better.

But watching Thompson play "Mary Had A Little Lamb" would have
been captivating – to keep up with the position of the man’s
lightning-quick fingers on his guitar’s fretboard would have been
quite a task. And certainly the visual contrast between the two
constituted the best gag of the evening. Imagine the hyper animated
Wainwright, tongue hanging out, his left foot bobbing up and down,
playing his simple rhythm guitar chords as if it took every last
ounce of energy in his body. Now picture Thompson sitting down in a
stool next to his friend, cool, calm and collected, executing
flawless lines effortlessly, even casually tuning his guitar in the
seconds between his leads.

All things considered, a fine performance, though one wishes
that Wainwright had placated the audience with a few more
tried-and-true favorites like "Motel Blues" or "The Swimming Song."
But no matter. Quite possibly, this born entertainer, with his
razor-sharp wit and seemingly boundless cache of remarkable songs,
could never fail to put on an engaging, crowd-pleasing show. Like
the failed relationship about which he sang toward the beginning of
his set, he’s history.

By Colburn Tseng

Eric Stoltz has been very busy during the last year. Since
April, the 34-year-old actor has appeared in a television film,
"Roommates," and three features: "Naked in New York," "Killing Zoe"
and the recently released "Sleep With Me" which he also produced.
By the end of the year, Stoltz will have turned up in two more
features: "Pulp Fiction" and "Little Women." And if that wasn’t
enough, Stoltz has completed two more unreleased films and is
currently working on "Rob Roy," a period drama set in 17th Century
Scotland co-starring Liam Neeson.

"It looks like I’ve been a lot more busy than I have been in
actuality," says Stoltz, pointing out the smaller size of his roles
in "Pulp Fiction," and "Little Women." Smiling pleasantly from
behind a goatee and hair extensions applied for "Rob Roy" that flow
down below his shoulders, Stoltz sits at the peak of his 12- year
career.

During a visit to UCLA in 1992 made in conjunction with a sneak
preview of "The Waterdance," which starred Stoltz and Helen Hunt,
the actor off-handedly remarked that he was a USC drop-out. When
asked about his background today at the Westwood Marquis Hotel,
Stoltz, dressed in a white, button down shirt and green slacks, is
less forthcoming.

"I’m a firm believer that the less you know about an actor, the
more you can enjoy the performance," he grins. "Particularly actors
that come out strongly in support of one political cause or
another. When I go to see their performances, my vision of the
story is colored by my knowledge of their personal proclivities.
And that kinda bugs me.

"I remember during the Dukakis election, I was just a little
embarrassed because it seemed like it was Arnold Schwarzenegger
running against Rob Lowe. And I thought, ‘This is no way to run a
nation.’"

In the past, Stoltz has revealed that he grew up in California
and began acting as a young teenager. He attended USC for two years
before leaving school to join an American theater troupe in
Scotland. His film debut was 1982’s "Fast Times at Ridgemont High."
Stoltz still loves the theater, trying to perform in one play a
year, and for the past several years has been dating Bridget
Fonda.

Stoltz’s performance as Cher’s disfigured, teenage son in 1985’s
"Mask" earned him much critical praise, but it wasn’t until 1992
that the actor began consistently appearing in quality films.
Nearly all of Stoltz’s work since "The Waterdance" has been in
independent films. Has Stoltz made a deliberate choice to eschew
big studio fare?

"Sometimes it’s a deliberate choice," says Stoltz after a moment
of consideration. "To do the film ‘Sleep With Me’ was a deliberate
choice because it was a lot of the same people that did ‘The
Waterdance,’ and they’re friends in the independent film community.
I want to help them out and be a part of it. But a lot of times,
like ‘Killing Zoe,’ or ‘Pulp Fiction,’ it’s accidental or
unplanned.

"I try not to function with a master plan of what I’m gonna do
next, or only work in independents or studio films. The thing I’m
doing now ("Rob Roy") is a big, boffo, studio-film, big-budget,
epic." Stoltz pauses and grins again. "Which is great, because now
I can pay my bills for a couple of years."

Known primarily as an actor, Stoltz has also worked behind the
camera. In the late ’80s, he worked as a production assistant on
"Illegally Yours" and "Say Anything …" two films in which he also
appeared as an actor. In the production hierarchy, the production
assistant is about as low as you get, so why would an actor take
the job?

"I wanted to learn a different side of production," Stoltz
explains. "And once you get past the humiliation of just having to
bring people coffee, it’s really kind of wonderful and freeing,
from an actor’s standpoint. You can take a step back and observe
the hierarchy of egos and how everyone functions. And also, you
don’t have to worry about how you look. You can go home, forget
about work, and party all night, then wake up and go to work."

At this point the recorder taping Stoltz’s conversation stops.
Stoltz shoots the piece of machinery a mischievous look and blurts
"And that’s when I had an affair with Cher!"

When the tape is turned over and the recorder reactivated,
Stoltz continues with mock seriousness, as if never interrupted.
"And ah -" He smiles and pauses an instant to recapture his thought
"It’s much more fun to work on the technical side when your ego and
vanity are not at play. For me anyway."

Stoltz is still working behind the camera, but he has risen in
the ranks considerably. On both "Bodies, Rest & Motion" and
"Sleep With Me," he was actor and producer. Stoltz says he got the
job on a lark when director Michael Steinberg approached him with
the script for "Bodies."

"I said, ‘Oh shit, man. Another film for no money. What’s in it
for me? Obviously I’m not gonna get any money. Well make me a
producer, and I’ll learn how to produce.’ It was sort of a bold and
obnoxious act of ‘Give me a raise.’ And they did."

Stoltz was expecting his first stint as a producer to be a
dilettante experience. What he got was a trial by fire.

"We got to the set, and none of the other producers had ever
produced anything before, or even done a film before. I was the
only producer who’d actually made films. I’d done like 15 films, so
suddenly I was being asked all these important questions by the
assistant directors about locations and scheduling."

As for the future, Stoltz, who has been offered scripts to
produce and/or direct, has no definite plans. For now, his
attention is still focused primarily on acting in projects that
interest him, regardless of the budget.

"My agents would probably love it if I would plot and plan, and
cut my hair, and do a certain studio film and gradually rise up in
the ranks," Stoltz explains, "which I like to think that I could do
if I would choose to. But at this point it’s not as interesting to
me." He pauses. "That might all change in two years," he adds with
a grin. "You never know."

By John Mangum

Proceedings did not get off to a promising start at the Dorothy
Chandler Pavilion the evening of Sept. 27.

The occasion was a performance of Mozart’s "Don Giovanni"
mounted by the Los Angeles Music Center Opera. The genius of
Mozart, though, promises to transcend any limitations imposed on
him by lesser luminaries.

Mozart’s opera, dating from 1787, takes the listener on an
odyssey of debauchery and deviltry, all devised by the corrupt Don.
Set in 17th century Spain, both the story and the various locales
in which it takes place provide an opportunity for a tremendous
display of color and vitality.

Instead, the audience was treated to a set that looked like "The
Iliad" meets "2001: A Space Odyssey." Painted entirely gray and
sparsely ornamented barring a few columns and a monolithic slab
here and there, it was less than a treat for the eyes.

Nor did the first scene bring much fun for the ears. With an
unnecessary amount of movement, Don Giovanni’s servant Leporello
brought his master’s sword and a satchel on stage, dropping them
loudly during the close of the overture.

As if this distraction were not enough, he then moved the sword
across the stage, creating further commotion.

Don Giovanni next emerged from the house of his most recent
victim, the noblewoman Donna Anna. Chasing him, she grabbed his
leg, causing him to fall and sing into the floor which muffled his
voice.

Luckily, the genius of Mozart and his librettist, the poet
Lorenzo da Ponte, kicked in. The action called for a sword fight,
and this is just exactly what the audience got.

Clashing in time to the music, Giovanni and the Commendatore,
Donna Anna’s father, rumbled excitingly until the Don skewered the
angry dad.

From here on, the entire evening was a delight. Mozart triumphed
over the limitations, his case argued stylishly from the pit by
conductor Lawrence Foster and the Los Angeles Opera Orchestra, and
from the stage by singers suited well to their parts.

The Don Giovanni of Thomas Allen, no stranger to this role,
headed the more than adequate cast. The contrast between the
invincibility of a Don who believed he would never have to pay for
his immoral behavior and the insecurity of a lonely man bent on
impressing everyone while he simultaneously deceived them made
Allen’s portrayal memorable.

The veteran Paul Plishka made his L.A. Opera debut as Don
Giovanni’s servant Leporello, bringing comic desperation to his
unavoidable role as his master’s accomplice. He and Allen
interacted on stage with a sense of timing that elicited laughter
from the audience even when translations of the jokes were absent
from the supertitles projected above the stage. This interaction
was just one example of the excellent casting which made the
evening so enjoyable.

As Donna Anna, the woman Don Giovanni attempts to defile as the
opera begins, soprano Elena Prokina sang well enough. She ran into
trouble in the second act when her voice showed some signs of
strain in the coloratura of her final aria.

Thomas Randle appeared as Anna’s fiancé Don Ottavio,
seeming at first to under-characterize in his quest for revenge
against Don Giovanni. His reedy tenor bloomed nicely, though, when
he announced his departure to punish Don Giovanni in his Act 2
aria.

Appearing for the first time as Zerlina, the peasant girl Don
Giovanni attempts to seduce on her wedding day, mezzo-soprano Paula
Rasmussen injected her part with vitality. Her singing was
excellent, and she acted very well opposite baritone John Atkins,
who portrayed her husband Masetto.

A consistently high level of singing was wedded to colorful
costumes and ornate plots which brought some life to the drab
stage. The same excellent choreography which had provided the
bracing sword fight crowned Act 1 with an expertly turned
finale.

The sword fight was probably the best thing that could have
happened to the performance. Once the Commendatore was dead, things
got good. When he came back to life to send Don Giovanni to hell,
things got even better.

Louis Lebherz, who was the evening’s Commendatore, sang with
tremendous power. His rich bass voice conveyed the gravity of the
sentence passed on the Don by the spirit of the angry father with
the perfect measure of authority.

The choke hold confrontation between Don Giovanni and the man he
killed had an undeniable effect on the audience. The interaction
between Allen and Lebherz even overcame the supertitles, crushing
the translator’s attempt to trivialize one of opera’s most bracing
scenes with humor.

This scene was the high point of a performance that, despite its
rocky start, became quite successful in its attempt to navigate the
seas of one of music’s greatest offerings. With consistently good
singing, colorful costumes, and some catchy lighting effects, L.A.
Opera gave the audience something that was certainly up to the
demands of Mozart’s high level of inspiration.

OPERA: L.A. Opera’s "Don Giovanni." Sept. 27,
30, Oct. 2, 5, 11, 14, 7:30 p.m.; Oct. 8, 1 p.m. At the Dorothy
Chandler Pavilion. Tickets $21 to $115, $10 for students. For more
info, call (213) 972-7211.