The old adage “good things come to those who wait” was proven true once again on September 4, 2015 as Rob Thomas finally arrived in St. Louis. He had to cancel is tour stop earlier in the summer due to an illness in the family, which is more than understandable. As an apology of sorts for the hassle of having to make folks reschedule their plans, Thomas and his supporting acts, Plain White T’s and Vinyl Station, really cut loose with fun-filled, more-than-your-money’s-worth performance.  Apology happily accepted, Mr. Thomas.

Rob’s “The Great Unknown Tour” is in full swing in support of his new album of the same name, but this rescheduled stop in the Gateway City at the Peabody Opera House was the last leg of the tour to feature his supporting acts. When Rob came on stage in a simple black T-shirt and black jeans, it was obvious that there would be no pretentiousness. Not that I was expecting any—Rob Thomas always seemed a blue collar kind of guy from his early days with Matchbox Twenty and his collaborations with the likes of Carlos Santana—but some of the images on his merchandise table seemed more “glamour shots” than I’d expected. Then again, I’m a dude with no intention of buying a pretty picture of any performer so it probably didn’t matter one bit to the ladies. I know the lady next to me didn’t care—I think she may have actually bought one of everything. Right from the start, Rob connected to his audience, thanking them for juggling their lives to be there with him. He said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “let’s shut the doors and for two hours, just two short hours, let’s forget all the terrible stuff going on outside, let’s dance and sing and just live in the moment because we won’t have another tonight!” And for a bit more than two hours, we all did exactly that.

I don’t care to right down playlists at concerts. I prefer to enjoy the spectacle, watch the band, watch the audience, and look for subtle things. I can’t tell you that every hit you’ve ever heard featuring Rob Thomas was played that evening. I can tell you that every hit that I knew was covered. I could be wrong about this, but I think he opened with “Lonely No More,” his first solo hit. From there he and his extremely capable band rocked Thomas’ solo catalog, old Matchbox Twenty favorites, and even an unexpected but greatly appreciated cover of “Let’s Dance” by David Bowie. I can always support an act that covers Bowie. Every song was played with intensity and energy, though sometimes slightly rearranged, such as when Rob sat down behind the piano for a more plaintive version of “3 A.M.” I wish I could find some information on his band, because they’re worth talking about in detail. Alas, I can’t seem to find any.  I can tell you that while everyone played well, his guitarist was completely off the chain and his bass player not far behind him.

As is tradition with the last show on a tour, or even just a leg of it where opening acts are leaving, the guys from both Plain White T’s and Vinyl Station messed with Rob, coming out with gymnastic steamers and dancing around trying to throw him off his game. He turned the tables after the song and said, “That’s your big prank? That was monumental! I want to incorporate that into the show all the time from now on!” It wasn’t quite the effect of having about half a ton of packing peanuts dump on the stage while the Plain White T’s were playing. The T’s were fun, very chill and 100% focused on entertaining. Of course “Hey There Delilah” was their big number. The Peabody crowd gave them strong applause, but really seemed to appreciate the efforts of Vinyl Station the first band on the card. I never heard of them but was quickly won over by the tremendous emotion conveyed in singer/guitarist Matthew Thornton’s voice. All of their songs were strong, with interesting lyrics, but by far my favorite of their set was “Taken” from their new CD Still Open Eyes. It has a sort of Modest Mouse vibe to it, which I hope they’ll consider high praise. I’d happily watch them anytime they come near St. Louis. They messed with Vinyl Station too, though I think it had something to do with their tour bus.

The show started at 7:30 pm, which is a little early for most concerts, but they worked three acts and a long set by Rob Thomas through a brisk pace that ran until just after 11 pm. All three bands really went the extra mile to ensure that everyone had a great time, and I can’t imagine that anyone left the Peabody disappointed.    

The machine-gun patter of clicks was interrupted rhythmically by the ding and zip of the manual carriage return, advancing the page another line and preparing for another string of text. The room was close, cloying with the June humidity of 1963. In a corner, the radio provided background noise with the help of The Chiffons. Over the writer's shoulder, his friend and partner leaned in, peering at the latest completed paragraph before grunting editorial approval. The writer continued at a feverish pace -- a few more strings of machine-gun clacking, a few more dings and zips, and he grabbed the top of the sheet, pulling it free with a whine of protest from the typewriter roller.

His name was Warren, and he wouldn't know it for another eight years, but the manuscript just completed, CREATED, THE DESTROYER, would go on to launch a franchise that would continue into the next millenium. With his friend and co-writer, Dick Sapir, Warren Murphy's satirical assassin Remo Williams would headline over 150 novels, a movie, and a television pilot. His adventures would go from the mundane to the sublimely ridiculous as the world continued to change around him. Often things Murphy would create as over-the-top satire would become commonplace, as life seemed determined to imitate his art.

In addition to THE DESTROYER series and a host of other private eye novels, Murphy would also get his fill of Hollywood, an industry he would often lampoon in his books, penning screenplays not only for his Remo Williams adventures, but also for the Clint Eastwood film, THE EIGER SANCTION, an episode of the George Segal crime series, MURPHY'S LAW, and the Mel Gibson / Danny Glover crime-comedy, LETHAL WEAPON 2.

On September 4, 2015, Warren Murphy passed away peacefully in his sleep. I had never directly interacted with the legendary writer, having interviewed him only once through a series of emails, but I have had numerous communications with his son, Devin, who continues the legacy of THE DESTROYER by helming Destroyer Books. I have the distinct -- and now more daunting than ever -- honor of having been asked to be the next writer to continue the adventures of Remo and Master Chiun. Even after Devin had bled all over my initial manuscript pages, the most dread I felt in the entire process was what Warren's opinion of the finished product would be. Several days before his death, Warren had taken up the final copy of the manuscript to add his personal notes. I hope he knew that his characters would go on, in the hands of someone who appreciated and cared for his creations.

Warren is survived by his ex-wife Molly Cochran, five children -- Deirdre, Megan, Brian, Ardath and Devin -- six grandchildren, throngs of admiring fans and a library full of award winning books. It's not literal immortality, but a literary immortality. And in the end, for a writer, that's about the best you could hope for. Or, as Warren himself might say, through Remo's dialogue: "That's the biz, sweetheart."

FORT WORTH, Texas – Oct. 20, 2015 – Screams.comhas unveiled its 2015 list of the Top 13 Haunted Houses in America. Advanced pyrotechnics, trained actors and superior use of technology highlight the attractions, which stretch from New Hampshire to as far west west as Arizona.

“This list represents haunts that have been extensively honored by their peers and the haunted attraction industry,” said Todd James, owner of the Cutting Edge Haunted House in Texas and industry veteran. “A lot of thought and research went into creating this list, which we hope will serve as a guide to haunted house lovers across the country.”

James notes that consumers are expected to spend about $7 billion this Halloween.

“It’s because haunted houses like the ones on this list are breaking new ground every year,” he commented. “People enjoy having the wits scared out of them and these haunts are delivering – big-time.”

The 2015 list includes:

1. The 13^th Gate (Baton Rouge, Louisianna)—The The 13th Gate takes patrons through 13 frightening themed indoor & (weather-permitting) outdoor areas, from crawling though a crematory oven and an old hearse to being lost in dark underground tunnels.

2. Bennett’s Curse (Baltimore)—Bennett’s Curse features over 40,000 square feet and four attractions, including the Medieval Underworld, Inferno 3D, Sanctuary of Insanity and Legends of Halloween.

3. Fear Farm (Phoenix, Arizona)—Patrons get more screams than they can handle. Fear Farm features Chainsaw Mayhem, the Undead, Mouth of Madness, Las Leyendas and the Bunker Invasion attractions.

4. Nightmare on 13^th (Salt Lake City)— Nightmare on 13th presents a new themed attraction each Halloween within its 36,000 square feet of terror. Professionally trained actors and hand-crafted costumes make the attraction a cut above.

5. Erebus (Pontiac, Michigan)—Erebus Haunted Attraction holds the Guinness World Record for being the longest walk-through haunted attraction. The haunt leads its victims through four stories of unique and terrifying paths.

6. The 13^th Floor Haunted House (San Antonio)— The “legend” of the 13th floor is explored as patrons make their way through the Burial Ground  and The Void, where phantoms and apparitions roam.

7. Spookyworld – Nightmare New England – (Litchfield, New Hampshire)— Spookyworld sits on a 40-acre property only 45 minutes from Boston, and offers five unique and terrifying attractions. One of the most memorable is a mile-long hayride from hell that brings you face to face with the horrors of the dark woods of New Hampshire.

8. The Dent Schoolhouse (Cincinnati)— The Dent Schoolhouse asks patrons to uncover the truth of over 30 students' deaths. The Dent School House was formerly an actual schoolhouse in Cincinnati.

9. Spookywods (Archdale, North Carolina)— Three generations of adventure seekers flock to the beautiful 60-acre farm each year. A 1.5 mile long zip line tour, high ropes course, escape games and outdoor laser tag highlight the attraction.

10. Nightmare On The Bayou (Houston)— Nightmare on the Bayou has been featured on the Travel Channel as one of America’s best haunts, and it is located creepily close to one of Houston’s oldest cemeteries.

11. Headless Horseman Hayrides and Haunted Houses (Ulster Park, New York)— Headless Horseman Haunted House offers a remarkable haunt experience that includes a haunted hayride, corn maze, and seven haunted houses and a sideshow magic and illusion show.

12. The Bates Motel (Glen Mills, Pennsylvania)—The Haunted Hayride is located deep in a 200-year-old forest full of overgrown trees creating the ultimate dark trail. Combined with a digital custom soundtrack, pyrotechnics and continuous scares throughout the ride, the Bates Motel is as creepy as the movie version.

13. Netherworld (Norcross, Georgia)— This top-notch haunted attraction near Atlanta features The Rotting and Vault 13 Unearthed attractions where patrons encounter everything from zombies to artificial intelligence in human form.

The charge is "STAR WARS has dumbed down the perception of science fiction in the popular imagination." Jeff Ritter of CriticalBlast.com represents the Prosecution. 

The very notion of STAR WARS being somehow responsible for “dumbing down” modern science fiction seems preposterous. Of course, the notion is not entirely objective—how does one quantify merit or mediocrity in art, which by its very nature is subjective? How does one quantify the tangible effect of a film from 1977, that wasn’t expected to do much business itself, has had on movies, television, video games, novels, graphic  arts, American and even global pop culture more than 30 years later? I’m sure somebody with a better mind for statistical analysis could find numbers to crunch in this regard, but I find it to be less of a matter of arithmetic and more of a matter of personal taste. Since I can only speak for myself, allow me to take you on a little flashback to the halcyon days of my youth.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Space was the final frontier. My earliest memories of science fiction were an LP recording of SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE MARTIANS and reruns of STAR TREK. In hindsight, Santa was much more believable than the Martians he conquered, and the adventures of Captain James T. Kirk and Mr. Spock were terrific…but over my wee head and slow…excruciatingly slow, at that age. I was four years old in 1977 when Star Wars first hit the screen. I remember it better from the near-marathon replays they ran of it in the early days of cable television. At one point my mother forbade my brother and I from watching it again. That was fine; we’d go play with our ever expanding assortment of STAR WARS action figures (because boys don’t play with dolls), space ships, and play sets, especially the 8^th wonder of the world for a child of the late 1970s: the triple-decker Death Star play set with the working trash compactor in the sublevel! When THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK came out, my brother and I were barely old enough to sit still through an entire movie. It’s been well over 30 years since that day, but I can still picture my brother’s face, eyebrows nearly leaping off of his forehead, jaw unhinged, probably a mirror image of the awe in my own face at that moment when the dreaded Dark Lord of the Sith uttered one of the most famous lined in history. “I…am your father!” What just happened? Darth Vader is Luke Skywalkers’s pop? But that means…we’ve been playing all wrong! We love our Dad! Luke’s old man just cut his own son’s hand clean off (there seemed to be a lot of lopped off limbs in the original trilogy). If I was old enough to know the phrase commonly abbreviated on the Internet today as “WTF?” I probably would have mouthed it silently, hoping that my parents didn’t see it. Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father. This revelation changed our very world.

Fast forward back to the present, past RETURN OF THE JEDI, two BATTLESTAR GALACTICA programs, a slew of STAR TREK spinoffs, ALIEN and PREDATOR and TERMINATOR franchises, the mighty Marvel Movie Universe with the mega-popular AVENGERS and GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY films, any number of Japanese animated features and just barely past one of the more scientifically accurate science fiction flicks in THE MARTIAN, and arrive at the this very moment. Tell me that STAR WARS has dumbed down the public perception of science fiction and I should reply, “You have two heads and one of them sounds like Greg Proops from WHO’S LINE IS IT ANYWAY?!”

I should. I can’t.

George Lucas struck gold in 1977. With the help of Lawrence Kasdan and Irvin Kershner, Lucas produced an even bigger vein of the precious metal in THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK in 1980. Many fans of the franchise proclaim Episode 5 to be the best of the bunch. It’s a good romp, with near Luke nearly dying in the frozen wastes of Hoth, Leia romancing Han and Luke both, Han getting double-crossed by his old pal Lando Calrissian, Boba Fett—one of the most popular characters in the mythos—is introduced, and Vader reveals he’s Luke’s father. That’s all jammed into an action-packed couple of hours. That’s also as good as it gets, and perhaps it’s not even as good as you think.

I can take STAR WARS at face value. George Lucas has always claimed that it was the middle chapter of a much larger story, and I have no choice but to take him at his word. Episode 4, as it would come to be known once the other episodes were made, is the only one in the bunch with a clear beginning, middle, and end. It can stand alone. Once it went berserk at the box office, Twentieth Century Fox almost certainly had dollar signs in their eyes. It wasn’t long before Lucas and his little troop of relative nobodies (Sir Alec Guinness and Peter Cushing were certainly somebodies) were back at it for THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK and RETURN OF THE JEDI. As that 7 year old in the movie theater for EMPIRE, I was in awe of the grandeur of Cloud City, the puppetry (Muppetry?) of Yoda, and the coolness of the bounty hunters, especially Boba Fett. As a forty-two year old film, theatre and concert critic, I am in awe that people still let their love of something from 38 years ago hold such a grip on them that they’ll forgive the cinematic atrocities inflicted on them and the science fiction genre at large. What’s more, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m guilty of it too.

If EMPIRE had been release in 2010, I’d have seen it coming. Leia plants a sloppy smooch on Luke while he’s recovering on Hoth and then starts giving the bedroom eyes to Han while he tries to do some repairs on the hobbled Falcon. Han, great friend to Luke that he is, lets her get away with that. A long time ago in that far away galaxy “bros before hoes” obviously did not exist. Boba Fett’s legendary Mandalorian armor is a great achievement in costume design, spawning a cottage industry of DIY cosplayers who have put together some incredibly cool variations on the theme. Boba Fett, the character, is grossly overrated. He’s got maybe three speaking lines in two movies. As a bounty hunter, don’t you usually have to go find and apprehend your quarry and then turn him in to the authorities to collect your bounty? Jabba the Hutt puts the bounty on Solo’s head but Vader is the one who catches Solo. After torturing him and turning him into a nice wall art sculpture he hands him over to Fett, who really didn’t do a damn thing to earn the bounty. He’s an intergalactic UPS driver! Jabba should have tipped him his 15% gratuity and sent him on his merry way, or joined the current growing crusade against tipping and encouraged Fett to find a new line of work and wired the funds to Vader instead. The great revelations in Episode 5 are really that Leia is too busy worrying about her hormones to run the Rebellion, Han is not your friend, Lando is the coolest pimp in the universe and Boba Fett is the laziest bounty hunter ever.

RETURN OF THE JEDI is where the wheels come completely off of this crazy train. The gang rescues Han from Jabba, killing off Boba Fett in the process in just about the most inglorious way possible, completely with belching sand monster. Way to take care of your high-interest assets, George! As the heroes get reorganized the Empire is building a new Death Star, and Vader’s boss is on-site to oversee matters since he appears to be going soft on this punk Skywalker who cost the Empire Sith knows how much money on the first battle station. The heroes hatch a plan to bring down the new Death Star’s shields, which are controlled offsite (clearly the Empire’s Information Technology Department was not involved in the decision making) on the nearby forest moon of Endor. It was originally going to be Kashyyyk, Chewbacca’s home world, but why do that when Lucas can hire as many little people actors as he can find to play sentient teddy bears instead? The kids will love it! The kids who loved Star Wars were now teenagers and wanted as little to do with the skittish little bear people as possible. While the cubbies venerated C-3PO as their god, Luke and Leia powwow about their childhood. Leia recalls her mother as being very beautiful but very sad (more on that later). Luke never knew her, but he knows, through the Force and some not so subtle hints by chronic liar Obi-Wan Kenobi’s ghost, that Leia is his sister. Leia shrugs off the revelation, saying, “Yeah, somehow I’ve always known.” Maybe because when you kissed Luke on Hoth you started hearing “Dueling Banjoes” playing in your head? These two are like the Griswolds’ in-laws in NATIONAL LAMPOON’s VACATION. More importantly, they’re just gross. When Han finds out does he say, “Oh man, you two are sick!” Nope, he just smiles and thinks, “Sweet, more for me, and now I don’t have to kill him.” He would have too, if it came to it. Han is not a nice man. He shot Greedo in cold blood.

I used to think Sir Alec Guinness was quite the royal jerk for his horrible attitude when anyone tried to engage him about Star Wars. The man was a master thespian. He is absolutely incredible in THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI. I’m sure his agent lost a bet or something to get him involved in the first place, but after the success of Episode IV it was probably just a matter of dollars versus hours. He’d show up on the set, do his lines perfectly because he was a knighted actor and that’s how they roll, and then be off to perform in works that mere much more interesting to him, such as A HANDFUL OF DUST or A PASSAGE TO INDIA. He loathed the intensity of STAR WARS’ popularity, particular with youthful viewers, but he was pragmatic enough to know that the royalties allowed him to live his twilight years in whatever manner he saw fit. The first of the controversial prequels was released just over a year before Sir Alec passed away. I doubt he bothered to see it. In hindsight I wish I hadn’t either.

I was 26 when STAR WARS: THE PHANTOM MENACE (or Episode 1) arrived. My friends and I were and still are mostly avowed geeks, still interested in comic books, video games, and still pretty much okay with STAR WARS, give or take the Ewoks. My brother and I went to a midnight showing of the first new STAR WARS movie since 1983, eager to see what was in store. What did we know of the STAR WARS universe prior to the events of Episode IV? I’d read many of the novels, many of which were not very good, and the Marvel comics, which were a mixed bag at best, and had picked up bits and pieces. Han was likely an Imperial deserter who had saved the life of an enslaved Wookie. Chewbacca’s people were big on paying “life debts,” whereby Chewie would stick with Han until the ledger was balanced. Presumably Han’s tendencies to criminal activity provided ample opportunity to pay that debt, but the Wookie stuck with him anyway. Being a criminal would quite likely be a better life than that of a slave. Luke was living with Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen when we met him, and we knew his father would become Vader, so surely Anakin would factor in. We knew that Samuel L. Jackson was in the cast so I already envisioned a scene where he’d turn to a young Obi Wan, played by Ewan McGregor who does a reasonably decent impression of Sir Alec, and say, “Here we go…the Lightsaber! When you absolutely positively got to kill ever motherf***er in the room, accept no substitutes!”

Instead, we got kid Vader letting people call him “Annie” like he’s that galaxy’s version of Johnny Cash’s A BOY NAMED SUE. He also built C-3PO—go figure. We got Greg Proops doing play-by-play for one of the longest throwaway scenes in cinematic history. We got the talented Liam Neeson fighting the same internal struggle as an actor that Sir Alec did, namely, “How did I end up reading bad dialogue to a tennis ball glued to a pole? What the Hell is my motivation?” We got Samuel L. Jackson imitating Mr. Spock. We got Republic Battledroids who talk like cartoon chipmunks playing goofball soldiers. We got Darth Maul, the coolest-looking character since Boba Fett, going out exactly like Randall Tex Cobb did in the Rutger Hauer cult classic BLIND FURY, but not before ending Liam Neeson’s misery by killing off his character, Qui-Gon Jinn. Worst of all, we got Jar Jar Binks. Well, perhaps that’s not quite true. I’m a pretty roguish fellow myself. I enjoy crass humor. I appreciate absurdity. I don’t take offense easily. As I sat through this tedious bore of a film, feeling the nostalgic love I felt for the original films draining away, I found myself getting increasingly offended. George Lucas, who had invited his filmmaker friends like Stephen Spielberg and Ron Howard to view the film before it was released, had completely insulted not only my intelligence but several Earthly cultures! Jar Jar was not only an imbecile; he was loosely a Rastafarian imbecile. The devious Trade Federation was controlled by a race of aliens who all spoke in bad “Engrish” or English with a thick Asian accent. In fact every race in this film spoke some sort of bad English dialect. Watto, the junk collector, whom Annie and his mother were enslaved to, spoke with an accent that seemed to offend several ethnic groups—he was accused of being Anti-Jew and/or Anti-Semitic by respected journalists while others claimed he was Jewish, pointing out his hooked nose and Hasidic headwear. His accent could be described as Arabic or perhaps Latino, but either way it underscored the point: Lucas had become lazy. In the original trilogy, Chewbacca, the Jawas, the Tusken Raiders, the Ewoks, most of the aliens in the Mos Eisley Cantina and Jabba’s Palace, and that weird little dude who co-piloted the Millennium Falcon with Lando (why he wasn’t on the Endor team while Han and Chewie piloted their own ship I still cannot fathom) were all either subtitled or speaking in gibberish and humans filled in the missing information with their dialogue. In Episode 1, the only character you can’t understand is R2-D2, and the only person who would have laughed at the terrible use of English accents is Archie Bunker.

As I left that show I knew I was disappointed, but it was still STAR WARS, and some part of me was still willing to accept it despite its shortcomings. Then ATTACK OF THE CLONES came out. These titles were getting really dumb now. The clones were actually a relatively minor piece of this story. The only things you really can take away from this are that Annie grows up to be a racist who murders Sand People (a racist term in and of itself) out of anger, which, being an emotion, is highly frowned upon by the Vulcans (oops, I meant Jedi); that Christopher Lee was horribly typecast to play evil characters ad nauseam, and that few things can kill a movie worse than bad cast chemistry. Hayden “Annie” Christensen and Natalie “Padmé  Amidala” Portman had none. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Their rapport was a perfect vacuum, the way outer space used to be before the science nerds of Earth filled it all with “dark matter.” REVENGE OF THE SITH finally brought this farce to an end, featuring a droid with a bad cough, Annie murdering Jedi children, Amidala still not caring one bit who her beau murders, Obi-Wan dismembering his protégé and the Emperor doing a “live action role play” performance with Annie’s torso and stumps as a send up to the old FRANKENSTEIN creature features that Lucas had grown up with. At the very end, Amidala gives birth to Vader’s twins and very quickly dies while the twins are separated and handed off to Bail Organa of Alderaan and Owen and Beru Lars, Annie’s step-aunt and uncle on Tatooine (the emotionless Jedi obviously had a firm grasp of twin sibling psychology), C-3PO’s memory get erased but not R2-D2’s, and the first Death Star is already further along than the second one will ever get, though it only becomes operational just in time for late teens Luke to destroy it. I have to assume that the Rebellion had nothing on the Imperial Electrical Workers Union Strike, but hey, I wasn’t there.

The prequels made huge money, but put storytelling in film back to the dark ages. There were plot holes you could pilot a Super Star Destroyer through. There were even plot holes in the original trilogy after the fact because of careless dialogue that Lucas didn’t fix in post production. Remember how Leia said her mother was very beautiful but very sad? She was very dead before Leia could even open her own eyelids! And don’t give any of that “She knew through the Force!” malarkey—she didn’t even know she could use the Force until well after Luke told her they were related. No, Epsiodes I, II and III were stellar train wrecks. None of George Lucas’ friends had the stones, levitated by the Force or otherwise, to say, “George, God bless you, man, I love you. You’re my brother from another mother. But this is really not good filmmaking. How ‘bout you let Quentin Tarantino, Marty Scorsese, or Ridley Scott take a crack at reshooting this bad boy, hmm?” I’d have settled for Luc Besson, who I think is a far better writer and producer than director. George was a pioneer of special effects and sound production. His work and that of his technical companies, Industrial Light and Magic (special effects, now owned by Disney with the Lucasfilm acquisition) and THX (sound) has had a lasting impact on movies, and for that George Lucas is owed a debt of gratitude. The impact he’s had on film production will be felt for generations to come. Sadly, so too will his impact on storytelling.

Simon Pegg, who plays USS Enterprise Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott in the revamped STAR TREK cinematic universe, was quoted earlier this year in an interview with RADIO TIMES stating, “Before STAR WARS, the films that were box office hits were THE GODFATHER, TAXI DRIVER, BONNIE AND CLYDE, and THE FRENCH CONNECTION. Then suddenly the onus switched over to spectacle and everything changed.” He was taken to task by the STAR WARS apologists who cried, “Poppycock! Pegg is wrong on several fronts! First of all he’s obviously a Trekkie, so what’s he know about Star Wars? Next, he’s British, and C., who ever heard of THE FRENCH CONNECTION? What is that? Porn? It must be if a guy name Pegg thinks it’s good.” I hang my head in shame for those poor fools. What the estimable Mr. Pegg said was taken out of context. He was lamenting the demise of the late 60s/early 70s aesthetic in filmmaking, the stark, edgy style of Martin Scorsese, William Friedkin, Arthur Penn and Francis Ford Coppola in the late 1960s/early 1970s, the guys responsible for the films he’d used as examples of his cinematic ideal. THE FRENCH CONNECTION, incidentally, is amazing. Style trends come and go, and Mr. Pegg isn’t too far off. For the most part, Hollywood doesn’t make smart, gritty, anti-hero movies like those anymore, at least not that often. Sure, every now and then Scorsese puts out another classic, or guy like Dan Gilroy goes retro with a neo-noir like NIGHTCRAWLER that gets it right. No, Hollywood generally learned the lesson of George Lucas: keep the action going, blow stuff up big, and nobody will remember the plot holes except for the critics. Nobody likes the critics. Trust me, we know.

“Objection!” I hear you say. “This is all well and good, if a little over-the-top, but all you’ve really proved is that Lucas dumbed down his own creation and Hollywood isn't what it used to be. How does that extend to science fiction on the whole?” Very well, let’s talk about that. The Disney movie TRON began development in 1976, before STAR WARS debuted. It didn’t get released until 1982, closer to the release of RETURN OF THE JEDI than EMPIRE, so it’s conceivable that people might think it was influenced by STAR WARS. The special effects likely were to some degree, though they were not designed by Industrial Light and Magic. The story of TRON probably survived in its basic original form despite the general populace catching STAR WARS fever during production. TRON: LEGACY, on the other hand, came out in 2010 and was almost a scene for scene recreation of STAR WARS, hidden under a thin veneer of TRON trappings. Go back and look—hot shot kid doesn’t listen to his elder, ends up inside a computer world with his dad, now a weird old man who saves his kid from a bar fight. They have a heart to heart on their way to rescuing a girl, and at one point the kid even mans the guns to take out his group’s pursuers, paraphrasing “I got one!” while his old man paraphrases, “Great, kid! Don’t get cocky!”

Not enough for you? How about Marvel’s GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY? An orphan kid (Peter “Star Lord” Quill) brings down a big cosmic despot (Ronan the Accuser) with the help of a couple of scoundrel space buddies (Rocket and Groot) and a princess (Gamora, adopted daughter of Thanos, King of Whatever He Damn Well Pleases). I guess Drax fits in somewhere too, maybe Lando? Yeah, you’re right, maybe not. Frankly, director James Gunn tells a better story with a more unlikely group of characters than Lucas did with his own motley crew, but the parallels between GUARDIANS and STAR WARS are undeniable. Even so, I loved GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY. It reminded me of how I felt about STAR WARS until Lucas started worrying more about Happy Meals and Lego Blocks and any other thing he could possibly slap a STAR WARS logo on.

Still not quite enough evidence? Fine. Let’s talk about FIREFLY. I hear you mumbling; “Tread carefully,” from the galleries. Hey, I absolutely love FIREFLY. Film and televisoin creator Joss Whedon’s shortest series, through no fault of his own, might arguably be his most beloved.  The Browncoats, the legions of fans of this show that Fox Netowrk honchos didn’t think enough of before they cancelled it midway through the first season, have been trying for over a decade now (even I’m surprised it’s been that long) to get the show resurrected, and most of the cast and crew have repeatedly gone on the record as being ready, willing and able to jump back into their roles on short notice. If you’ve never seen FIREFLY, and certainly many have not as 14 episodes from back in 2002/2003 were easy to miss and the SERENITY theatrical follow-up didn’t reach too many folks who weren’t already fanatics of the show, is pretty easy to describe: it’s a western set in outer space. It’s not a galaxy a long time ago and far, far away. It’s our galaxy, and it’s only a few hundred years in our future, where China has become so pervasive that even English speaking folks swear in Chinese. The show mostly revolves around Captain Malcolm Reynolds, who, as you probably could have guessed, is based on the Han Solo archetype. As portrayed by Nathan Fillion, Reynolds is a scruffily handsome, military-trained outlaw with a moral compass that gets him into some interesting situations. He’s fiercely protective of his ship and the crew, who if slightly less archetypical at least represent traits from Han’s cohorts. Wash has the piloting chops, Zoe is his sister-in-arms, the man they call Jayne (which is better than Annie, at least) is Chewie’s temper, and Inara is his Leia. Kaylee is probably Luke in some weird way, the optimistic one still unbroken by the past war and the current roguish lifestyle. Again, it’s enjoyable in ways STAR WARS, especially the prequels are not. Joss Whedon might be the best in the business right now at writing witty banter. Does the show even occur to Whedon if he’d never laid eyes on STAR WARS? Does the western theme--a somewhat hard sell to both studios and audiences alike these days--work without being married to the STAR WARS elements so commonplace in science fiction cinema? Does Fox wish they'd have hit the "do over" button as they did when Seth MacFarlane's FAMILY GUY found a new lease on life in Comedy Central reruns? Speculation is inadmissible, so I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions, but for me the answers to those rhetorical questions are no, no and yes. 

I confess that my modern American life style leaves little room for pleasure reading these days. I’ve finished two books in the last year, I think. My tastes tend to run more towards classic literature, pure fantasy, historical fiction, and mystery more than modern science fiction. I think if you stop by your local Barnes and Noble you’ll find fantasy books outnumbers science fiction by a wide margin, especially if you include the Young Adult and Horror genres under that larger umbrella. It’s in the visual media—television and movies—where science fiction shines. Why is that? It’s typically easier to show somebody a scientific concept than to explain it. Why does a curveball curve? Why did the Earth’s rotation and relative position in the space at that moment in its orbit around the Sun affect the outcome of the Cincinnati Bengals’ game-winning field goal attempt against the Seattle Seahawks, according to Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson? It’s all science, but if I try to explain it to you you’ll probably just be more confused. A visual aid would help, like a YouTube video or an episode of MYTHBUSTERS. Good science fiction works best when there are actual scientific concepts woven into it. The silence of space in Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, the possibility of a true close encounter with extraterrestrials in Robert Zemeckis’ CONTACT. the cellular reaction of the human body to radiation as seen in SPIDER-MAN or THE HULK are all examples of fiction made better throug hreasoanbly simple science. The STAR TREK movies are typically steeped in science by their very nature. All STAR WARS could muster was the concept of hyperspace, force fields and parsecs. The apologists would explain that Lucas used the term “parsec” correctly, but many more argue against it. It’s a unit of distance, not of time. You can look that up. Lucas himself blames Han Solo for the confusion, trying to demonstrate that Han will say whatever comes to mind to reel in his mark. The topic was eventually explained by science fiction writer and STAR WARS novelist Kevin J. Anderson as the Millennium Falcon being fast enough to escape treacherous gravity traps around black holes that would claim inferior ships, or to quote the Waylon Jennings-penned theme of the DUKES OF HAZZARD, Han’s ship was capable of “straightening the curves, yeah, and flattening the hills” of space travel. Did you pick any of that up in 1977? Me neither, I always just assumed that parsecs meant something different in the STAR WARS universe than it does in the real world. 

There are still some books out there in the science fiction genre that seem to have plenty to say on unique and original concepts. Carl Sagan’s novel CONTACT, which Robert Zemeckis adapted for his film, should be read by anyone interested in outer space. I’ve not personally read Iain M. Banks but his works get mostly glowing reviews. I have read Douglas Adams, whose absurdness is a delight to me. There are multitudes of other series and standalone novels, many of them unfettered by dierect tie-ins to popular franchises that likely don't mimic the STAR WARS story structure. Within the Star Wars Expanded Universe, or the novels, video games, comics and other non-film-related works that are no longer considered canonical since Disney bought the universe from Lucas, there were some very good novels—Timothy’ Zahn’s THRAWN TRILOGY springs to mind, as does Michael A. Stackpole’sperhaps underrated work on the X-WING series featuring Rogue Squadron. K.W. Jeter’s THE BOUNTY HUNTER WARS series was a colossal let down as Boba Fett ran off at the mouth like Marvel’s Deadpool character. When I peruse the shelves at the bookstore, I see a lot of sword and sorcery. I see some science fiction here and there but I usually pick it up, judge it uninteresting by the bland cover and the back cover blurb that basically rehashes plots points from STAR WARS while informing me that the volume in my hand is book 5 of a sweeping saga that couldn’t possibly needed to be that long. Some authors feel they have to take 5,000 pages to get their point across. It’s bad enough that I’m taking more than 5,000 words to get my point across here. Some publishers believe everything needs to be a series. Heaven forbid you be allowed to kill off your hero in the classic hero myth sense. STAR WARS isn’t to blame for bad publishing habits, but they can’t claim complete innocence either. George Lucas put some serious cool factor on a lot of half-baked story elements and now we, the audience, have come to expect it. That may be why I haven’t given Iain M. Banks' novels a try yet. Maybe I’m apprehensive about digging into his large CULTURE series of novels because I’m afraid they’ll be too much like STAR WARS. From what I’ve read about them, I’m probably wrong in that assumption--it may be the best series to counter the STAR WARS programming in my generation’s head about what science fiction should be. Maybe I just wonder if it's worth spending my money on when I have shelves packed with books I've never read already, including HARRY POTTER and LORD OF THE RINGS. I'm a film critic, not a book critic--I prefer to watch the films first so I can enjoy them on their own merits, because the books are almost always better, especially in the case of Michael Crichton. After RISING SUN, I just can't stand to read the book first.

While television shows like FIREFLY, BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, STARGATE and various incarnations of STAR TREK have proven popular, and movie franchises like THE TERMINATOR, THE MATRIX, ALIENS, PREDATOR, and Marvel’s THE AVENGERS and GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY have raked in tons of cash, none of them can claim to be devoid of STAR WARS’ influence. Even STAR TREK, its predecessor in the genre by 11 years, has eschewed the slow burn of stoic scientific exploration and basically ignored the Prime Directive, the central tenant of non-interference with the species and races they encounter that governed the original series, in favor of impossibly ridiculous ships piloted by an angry Eric Bana or a good actor in Benedict Cumberbatch doing a dry and occasionally wry rehash of Ricardo Montalbán’s Khan Noonien Singh character. As a critic, I suppose I should be harsher on these films. I probably tend to forgive too much out of nostalgia for my childhood memories, of being 10 years old and careening down the street on my bicycle at breakneck speeds pretending I was Luke Skywalker in the Death Star trench, being targeted by Darth Vader behind me (played by my father coming home from work in our Gremlin, don’t start on me about the car) with John Williams’ masterful score roaring in my head. STAR WARS, despite its many Sarlaac-like tentacles that reach into every possible avenue of merchandising, isn’t all bad. It’s just not very good for the intellectual integrity of the genre.

Now STAR WARS is out of George Lucas’ hands, and Disney has entrusted it to J.J. Abrams, who has made a career out of having better ideas than execution. He was responsible for the reboot of the STAR TREK cinematic franchise, and now he gets the chance to do the same with STAR WARS. I’m afraid that when it comes to dumbing down science fiction in popular imagination, we ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

(Want to see the rest of the charges against STAR WARS, and see them prosecuted and defended? Visit Smart Pop Books for each blow-by-blow!)

IRVING BERLIN’S WHITE CHRISTMAS is gracing the stage at the Fabulous Fox Theatre from November 17-22, 2015, just in time for…Thanksgiving. You can blame WICKED’s December residency for that, but that’s fine, really. The retail stores rolled out their Christmas gear before Halloween, so chances are you’ve already been dreaming of a white Christmas. And why wouldn’t you? After all, Bing Crosby’s rendition of the Irving Berlin classic is the best selling single of all time, according to the good folks at Guinness Book. Chances are you’ve seen the old movie or witness the production on previous tours, but believe it or not, I’ve never seen it before tonight.

The story is a tad thin, but the cast’s verve and vigor more than make up for it. Captain Bob Wallace (Sean Montgomery) and Private Phil Davis (Jeremy Benton) are entertaining the troops in Europe in 1944. Their show is dismissed only half-curmudgeonly by General Henry Waverly (Conrad John Schuck), who hoped that in ten years his whole division will be seeing carols around the fire at home with their families. The very next scene fast forwards to 1954, and Wallace and Davis are a song and dance duo delighting the television audience of Ed Sullivan’s very big “shew.” Wallace, the most buttoned-up of the performing pair, plans on a Florida holiday on the links, but the wilder Davis tricks him into following the talented and beautiful Haynes Sisters (Kerry Conte as Betty, Kelly Sheehan as Judy) to their booking in blustery Vermont. As luck would have it, the very inn they’re staying at was recently purchased by General Waverly, but he’s already over his head with bills. Martha Watson (Pamela Myers), a former Broadway talent herself in the mold of Ethel Merman, assists the general with running the inn, and also mistakes a message from Wallace’s friend, a producer on the Ed Sullivan show, as a plot to take over the inn from the General. This throws Wallace’s budding romance with Betty Haynes into a tailspin. Fortunately, as things tend to in musical theatre, the fella gets his girl, the general keeps the inn, and everyone has a very merry Christmas.

As plots go, that’s pretty typical. As performances go, this tour is top notch. Sean Montgomery and Jeremy Benton have good chemistry together, as do Kerry Conte and Kelly Sheehan. They each have amazing voices and extremely talented feet as everyone danced sublimely. Montgomery in particular was very interesting in the role of Bob Wallace, made famous by Bing Crosby. If I closed my eyes, I’d have sworn he was the much-lauded stage and film actor Nathan Lane. While he doesn’t sound like Bing, Montgomery has that classic theatre tenor quality that makes him a standout performer in pretty much anything. Kerry Conte’s beautiful voice was only surpassed by her graceful beauty. I just wish the plot gave her a little more to do than be the convenient patsy for the silly misinformation MacGuffin for the plot’s obvious if shallow and ultimately unnecessary attempt at conflict. It was a treat to see Conrad John Schuck in person. He’s one of those actors that you’ve seen a hundred times, usually as a judge, a U.S. Senator, a member of the military brass, the police chief—any of a plethora of authority figure roles for the erstwhile heroes to antagonize. It’s rare for a national touring show to feature an actor that I ever recognize at any distance from the stage. Susan Waverly, the General’s granddaughter, was played in this performance by Elizabeth Crawford, though Samantha Penny will be seen regularly in the role during this run as well. Miss Crawford was delightful, charming the audience with both comedic and at least somewhat dramatic scenes. Cliff Bemis, who has several roles in the show, is best as Ezekiel Foster, the weird old maintenance man at the General’s inn. He’s clearly a fan of Tim Conway’s braned of physical humor.

Even with all this star power in the major roles, my biggest joy in this show came from the unsung singing heroes of the Ensemble. Maria Briggs, Rachel Coloff, Elish Conlon, Darien Crago, Laurie DiFilippo, Joe Grandy, Drew Humphrey, Bryan Thomas Hunt, Megan Kelley, Connor McRory, Bryan Charles Moor, Mike Nulty, Kristyne Pop, Jake Primmerman, Sean Quinn, Rachel Rhodes-Devey and Kelly Skidmore are absolutely flawless in each and every dance routine. Director and Choreographer Randy Skinner and Associate Director and Choreographer Mary Giattino-Styles put their marvelous cast through a variety of dance styles from tap to jazz and I never noticed a single actor out of synch or lost. Every step was perfect, every turn crisply executed, and every dance a treat for the appreciative audience.

IRVING BERLIN’S WHITE CHRISTMAS runs through November 22, with, matinees on Nov 19, 21-22. It’s the perfect show to get you in the holiday mood. Remember, ladies and gentlemen, we’re closing in fast on the last month of shopping before the big holiday. Who wouldn’t love some tickets to any of the Fabulous Fox’s terrific lineup of shows this season? See www.FabulousFox.com for all the news and seating availability.

With the new year upon us, the "New Year, New Me" Facebook posts are in full swing! The folks over at Morphsuits have come up with a clever infographic to see what superheroes are coming up with for their resolutions.

My personal favorites are the goals set by Cyclops and Batman. To view the infographic, click on the image to open it and enjoy the light-hearted take on some super self-relfection.

Add a clever resolution, for a hero you think needs some self-improvement, in the comment section below!

Posted on January 27, 2016 by Zac Cherin

After buying Lucasfilm for $4 billion in 2012, The Walt Disney Company had to wait three years for its investment to begin paying tangible dividends. If, however, the initial box-office performance of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” is a sign of things to come, then the wait was well worth it.

The seventh installment in the Star Wars film saga shattered the U.S. total box office record, passing the $760.5 million mark set by James Cameron’s blockbuster “Avatar” in 2009.

Unfortunately for Disney’s shareholders, the company’s stock price has yet to jump to hyperspace. Instead, shares of Disney have trended downward during "Episode VII's" time in theaters.

Stunningly, it only took “The Force Awakens” 20 days to break the U.S. gross box-office record. For context, "Avatar" took nearly eight months to pass the previous record-holder - "Titanic," another Cameron epic. Moreover, "Episode VII" had the largest opening weekend ever recorded in the U.S., raking in $238 million.

Following the U.S. release, the film debuted in China — a market with little exposure to the Star Wars universe. During the years of the original trilogy, 1977 to 1983, the nation was in the midst of massive economic and political reforms. Thus, many of the original seeds of the franchise’s influence were never planted.

However, “The Force Awakens” lived up to is name, bringing in an estimated $53 million during its opening weekend in China. As of January 26, “Episode VII” had the third-highest worldwide gross of all time at $1.94 billion — more than $1 billion of which was overseas.

As “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” continues to subdue doubts and exceed expectations, FindTheCompany wanted to know why Disney's shares haven't done the same?

Since nearing their all-time high in mid-November, shares of Disney have been on a consistent decline. On Jan. 7, 2016, Disney’s stock price fell below $100 for the first time since September 2015. This trend appears to be especially unfitting, given how quickly “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” justified its $4 billion price tag.

Yet, with a market capitalization of roughly $160 billion, Disney clearly has more at stake than its initial $4 billion investment.

Problems for Disney surfaced following the company’s Q3 2015 earnings release. Disney’s stock price collapsed as investors were spooked by contracting subscriber numbers and ad sales for the company’s subsidiary sports network ESPN. Increased competition from streaming services like Netflix forced investors to take a more critical position on the ESPN numbers, as momentum trended (and continues to trend) in favor of original content and increased accessibility over established programming.

The fall wiped out much of Disney’s gains in 2015 and also sparked a widespread selloff of other television media stocks like Comcast (CMCSA), Time Warner (TWX), and Viacom (VIA). The sector as a whole struggled in 2015, with Disney being the only stock of the four to generate positive returns over the last year.

Whereas Disney’s stock price is up just less than 6 percent over the last 12 months, Netflix’s stock price is up more than 130 percent, exemplifying the recent shift toward streaming services.

On Wall Street, the battle between Disney and streaming services like Netflix has overshadowed "Episode VII's" success. Despite this, Disney still has a number of reasons to be excited about Star Wars as it nears its next earnings date on Feb. 9.

First, the continued box office success of “The Force Awakens” bodes well for Disney’s bottom line. The company barely missed revenue expectations in its last two earnings reports and the ever-rising global box office gross could very well be a difference maker.

Second, as "Episode VII" reinvigorates the Star Wars brand in established markets like the United States, and introduces it to new markets like China, Disney has much to gain from a potential increase to both merchandise and theme park ticket sales. Estimates indicate that first-year merchandise sales could hit as much as $5 billion, while seasonal Star Wars events at Disneyland theme parks are expected to drive an increase in ticket sales as the hype over the reinvigorated franchise continues to build.

Moreover, Disney has announced plans for a 14-acre “Star Wars Land” addition to its Disneyland park in Anaheim, Calif., which could provide a huge boost for ticket sales.

Although the record-breaking pace of "The Force Awakens" box office tour has yet to be reflected in Disney’s stock price, the film has undoubtedly succeeded in reviving a brand with worldwide appeal. Faced with increased competition and a changing landscape for its products and services, Star Wars should supply Disney with an important portion of the revenue it needs to make the changes necessary to remain relevant in an ever-evolving industry.

Compare Stock Prices on FindTheCompany

I’ll admit it—I’m embarrassed. What I knew about Carole King before arriving at the Fabulous Fox to see BEAUTIFUL: THE CAROLE KING MUSICAL consisted mostly of the soft rock easy listening stuff I used to get subjected to when my coworkers would insist on tuning our radio to the “Delilah” show on KEZK in St. Louis. I knew she won a Grammy forTapestry and you can hear “It’s Too Late,” “I Feel The Earth Move,” and “A Natural Woman” pretty regularly still today. I knew she was elected into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but they let Green Day and The Public Enemy in too--Run DMC and Public Enemy got in before Peter Gabriel, Rush (are you kidding me?), Lou Reed, Hall & Oats, Nirvana and KISS. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy rap music a great deal, but this isn’t the Hip Hop Hall of Fame, this is Rock & Roll. Carole King, no disrespect intended, didn’t really strike me as a rock star either.

I was wrong. So horribly, terribly, embarrassingly wrong. Carole King isn’t just a rock star; she’s quite possibly the most important woman in the history of rock music.  

Carole King, played by Abby Mueller, who’s sister Jessie originated the role on Broadway, started her career as a 16 year old prodigy named Carol Kline, who was doggedly determined to not let her youth, gender or Jewish upbringing stop her from writing music. She managed to get an audience with entrepreneurial music producer Don Kirshner (Curt Boursil), who was impressed enough to buy her song, “It Might As Well Rain Until September.” Soon after she met Gerry Goffin (Liam Tobin through March 3^rd’s performance in St. Louis, Ryan Farnsworth replaces him through March 6^th shows), who soon after became her lyricist, her husband and the father of her first child, Louise. Goffin and King wrote so many hits it’s ridiculous. From 1955 through 1999 she had writing credits on 118 songs that reached Billboard’s Top 100 list. She wrote 61 top hits in the UK as well, which leads all other female songwriters during the period of 1952 through 2005. Do the math, kids: 179 hit songs in the two most rock & roll crazy countries on earth, for about half of the Chicago Cubs’ World Series drought. That’s mind-boggling! The Goffin-King duo penned hits for The Drifters, The Shirelles, Bobby Vee, Aretha Franklin – heck, they even started “The Loco-Motion,” which was a smash hit for their babysitter, Little Eva and “Pleasant Valley Sunday” for The Monkees!

In the next office down the hall at Aldon Records, the dynamic duo’s rivals and eventual best friends, Cynthia Weil (Becky Gulsvig) and her hypochondriac partner (and eventual husband) Barry Mann (the outstanding Ben Fankhauser) were busy chasing Goffin and King up the charts with songs for The Righteous Brothers, The Animals, The Drifters, Paul Revere and the Raiders and many more. As the years ticked by, Gerry started cheating on Carole, even telling her outright that he intended to sleep with Janelle Woods (Rebecca E. Covington), who caught his eye while performing “One Fine Day,” during a TV special taping. Gerry became increasing absent from the family’s lives, living with Janelle or others for days. Eventually he suffered a nervous breakdown, and soon after Carole King was pushing early middle age with two kids and no husband. She packed up and moved to California, where she soon joined forces with the legendary producer Lou Adler who helped her craft Tapestry. The show ends with Carole performing at Carnegie Hall, having made her peace with Gerry and having overcome her own shyness to accept if not completely embrace her inner rock star.  

Abby Mueller is clearly the next best thing to seeing a Carole King concert in person. She sounds spot on, and her singing voice was unwavering all night long. Abby also maintained a spot on Brooklyn/Yiddish accent, and played Carole as an absolutely sweetheart. One thing I noticed in the show was that some performers seemed to "theatre" their vocals, over-enunciating somewhat every now and then, the way one might in something like WICKED or GREASE. Rock & roll is usually just belted out with gusto, pronuciation be damned. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam fame is never going to be confused with Zero Mostel. Abby Mueller's performance was nuanced, allowing for the musical style where appropriate, and rocking out when necessary. Ben Fankhauser also stood out with his comic timing and dry wit. Their chemistry with their respective partners felt very natural. There was one song, I think it might been “One Fine Day,” where it felt like one of the background singers was yelling more than singing, drowning out the lead vocalist on that song, but it could have been an accidental twist of a nob on the soundboard too, as others I asked during intermission didn't seem to notice. The production’s first act is a swift slice of early rock & roll, and it’s terrific. As King, Goffin, Weil and Mann duke it out song by song, hit by hit, the would sing a short demo before giving way to the ensemble cast who danced like The Drifters or sang like The Righteous Brothers. It was a nice way to add a bit of showbiz sparkle and glitz – and a little bit of dancing – to an otherwise low-key affair, no pun intended. The set was deep and gliding furniture and wall panels smoothly transitioned from frenzied studio to the lighted stage. The second act slows down a little, with the drama of Carole and Gerry splitting up and starting over, but it’s never terribly melancholy. I would imagine the real Carole king was devastated but there just wasn’t enough time to dwell on the negative aspects, and quite honestly that was perfectly okay with me. This wasn’t intended to be a definitively biographical, it’s meant to be a celebration of a wonderful artist’s long career. It doesn’t revolutionize the musical in any way, but it does give clueless know-it-alls like me a chance to stand in lobby for a minute, feeling like Stan or Kyle from SOUTH PARK, and thinking to myself, “I learned something today!” Carole King was so much more than a staple of easy listening radio. She was a pioneering woman in a mail-dominated industry, a trailblazer of popular music and one heck of a talented, enduring, beautiful artist.

Marc Bruni’s production of BEAUTIFUL: THE CAROLE KING MUSICAL is an entertaining romp through the early days of rock & roll that should not be missed. The show runs from now through March 06. Visit www.FabulousFox.com for tickets and http://beautifulonbroadway.com/ for more on the show and tour dates.

The New Line Theatre kicked off their second production in their swanky new digs in the Marcelle Theatre with AMERICAN IDIOT, a mostly sung through musical written by Green Day frontman Billie Joe Armstrong and Michael Mayer, featuring the entire American Idiot album with a few numbers from 21^st Century Breakdown included too. Obviously, if you’re a Green Day fan you’ll probably love the show. Me, I’m not a huge fan. I don’t necessarily dislike the band; I just don’t typically listen to them. Immediately after the performance, my first reaction was, “Nice performed by some great talents, but I don’t have much sympathy for these presumably upper-middle class suburbanites being self-destructive by cooking their heroin and meth on the silver spoons they were born with.” And yet something deep in my guts said, “Sleep on this one. There might be more to this than just having taken 90 minutes with no intermission to hear Johnny whine about nothing and everything all at once.”

I spent quite a bit of the next day musing on the production with the music playing in the background. New Line’s dynamic directing duo of Scott Miller and Mike Dowdy has assembled another sterling cast of local and regional actors backed by the always excellent New Line Band.  AMERICAN IDIOT has a pretty simple plot: three young men desperately want to escape their boring suburbia existences. They seek for themselves what is truth versus what is another lie from an adult, be it their broken families or the George W. Bush White House. Johnny, the nominal leader of the pack, was played by Evan Fornachon, a brilliant young actor who seems to get better and better every time I see him perform. He broke in the Marcelle Theatre’s black box space with an award nominated turn in New Line’s HEATHERS a few months ago, playing the darkly exciting vagabond J.D. He isn’t hard to picture as a front man for a Nu-Punk/Post Grunge band, layered in t-shirts and a dirty hoodie, a streak of red in his unruly dark hair and a touch of eyeliner that hints at A CLOCKWORK ORANGE. His pal Will, played by the likewise talented Brendan Ochs, doesn’t make it out of town as his girlfriend Heather, played powerhouse Larissa White, announced that she’s pregnant. Tunny, played by Frederick Rice in a fantastic New Line debut, joined Johnny on the trip to New York but then joined the army as a reaction to September 11, leaving Johnny alone. Johnny wasn’t alone for long as he meets a girl referred to only as Whatshername, played by Sarah Porter, who’s pretty unforgettable. Their relationship jumped immediately into the hot and heavy hedonism of sex, drugs, and rock & roll – seriously, there’s some steamy simulated sex in one scene that probably had parents and significant others going, “Oh my…” somewhere in the audience. Johnny’s drugs were furnished by St. Jimmy, who I’m not entirely sure is an actual person or an alter ego, though I don’t mind the ambiguity of the roll. Chris Kernan, another up and coming talent in the St. Louis theatre scene, is spectacularly sinister, almost devilish in his red pants and heavy eyeliner. Tunny was wounded in action and nursed back to health by Extraordinary Girl (Sicily Mathenia) and eventually all three truth-seeking friends are reunited back home in Jingletown, having experienced the traumas of self-discovery and adulthood.

The ensemble  of Kevin Corpuz, Cameisha Cotton, Clayton Humburg, Jeremy Hyatt, Omega Jones, Sean Michael , Ariel Saul, Tanya Sapp and Gabe Taylor (New Line’s longtime stage manager does a fine job on the other side of the house) are present on stage for much of the show. Kevin Corpuz drew some cheerful gasps of appreciation for his physique and his “Captain America” boxers and socks when he gets the spotlight for “Fortunate Son.” You could close your eyes and still know where Cameisha Cotton is, as her dynamic voice seems to lead the chorus without drowning everyone out. I recommend that you keep your eyes open though, because she’s a gorgeous young actress with a physical presence ten times greater than her actual petite size. Someday I hope to see Sarah Porter, Larissa White and Cameisha Cotton face off in a musical or do a cabaret together. Everyone was perfectly costumed to channel that feeling of disaffected youth, thanks to Sarah’s costume design talents. The New Line Band, consisting of Sue Goldford, D. Mike Bauer, Aaron Doerr, Andrew Gurney, Twinda Murry, Jessica Nations, and Clancy Newell, nailed the Green Day sound, which was all the more poignant with the addition of the strings section helping to swell the emotional undercurrent at just the right moments.

The only quibble I had with the show from a technical standpoint was the staging set up. From my seats off the aisle from stage left/center, I had a hard time seeing through the heads of the audience to really see what was going on for most of Brendan and Larissa’s scenes, performed stage right. One or the other was frequently sitting, and then I couldn’t see them at all. I’m approximately 0.0000001% of the director Scott Miller and Mike Dowdy are but I wondered if there wasn’t any way to flip the Will and Tunny scenes every now and then to give both sides of the house a chance to see both subplots better. There’s close to twenty people in the show so probably not, but it was somewhat distracting to find an angle to glimpse the actors at that didn’t cause the person next to you or behind you to then have the same problem. Black box theatres allow for flexible seating arrangements, but this production’s cast may simply have been too big to cram into a smaller set-up, so c’est la vie. No disrespect to Brendan and Larissa, since I’ve seen them both perform before and know what they bring, but by the end of the show I was glad to have been seated on the “Frederick Rice” side of the stage to see the new kid totally rock his debut. His voice sounded terrific, blended well with Evan and Sicily, and his acting was marvelous too. I look forward to seeing more of Mr. Rice on stages around St. Louis. 

Please forgive the editorial that this will no doubt become, but I want to explain how I arrived at the conclusion that AMERICAN IDIOT is actually a much better show than my initial reaction would indicate. It took a little time for this one to sink in. As I said at the beginning, I’m not the biggest Green Day fan. The only album of theirs that I’d really listened to in its entirety up to this point is Dookie, and while it had a couple of decent songs on it, most of it felt like most of the 1990s did for me: forced. The 80s were anything goes experimentation, but the 90s seemed to be a bit more corporate, an artistic recession saved only by the breakout success of the Grunge movement in rock music. Green Day’s angst felt a bit contrived, made especially for an over-produced American punk revival rather than the seemingly authentic vitriol of the Sex Pistols in punk’s UK heyday. Green Day is often categorized as punk, but I’ve always thought of them as more or less grunge with a punk-styled delivery. Punk was usually just flat-out angry at authority and conformity (and in my opinion a decidedly British genre, despite the popularity of The Ramones) whereas grunge, and Green Day, were a bit more angrily introspective. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Green Day certainly had issues with authority and conformity, but they seemed to look at themselves more than the societal pressures of the time. Frankly, music is pretty subjective and genre labels are only really useful in cataloging products in retail stores, so Green Day’s punk credibility isn’t really the point.

The point is they weren’t wrong. American Idiot came out a decade after Dookie, my musical tastes had changed and Green Day simply wasn’t on my radar anymore. I wasn’t a college kid struggling to save up enough for the next semester’s tuition, angry that our government was getting deeper into a war we still haven’t truly won yet. By the time American Idiot hit the stores I was working a 40 hour corporate workweek in cubicle hell. I looked at the angry bands, and anyone categorized as punk from 1990 to the present, and wondered what in the world they were bitching about. They didn’t grow up under the constant threat of nuclear war, a lousy job market, the almighty dollar not going as far as it used to…but they did. They grew up from the first Desert Storm to September 11 to the Great Recession, so named because the cowards on Capitol Hill never had the intestinal fortitude to call it The Great Depression II (but Hollywood would have jumped all over that). It’s as I sit here now, yet another decade older and just a tiny bit wiser, that I realized the Sex Pistols and The Clash calling attention to external pressures and Green Day and their more internalized pressure to live up to family and society expectations really are the same complaint. Things are messed up and nobody is really trying to fix them. Billie Joe Armstrong was acutely aware that he was in danger of becoming exactly what the previous generation—those wild kids of the 80s—had become: another generation who just gave up trying to beat the game. American Idiot, the album, and AMERICAN IDIOT, the musical, are a call to arms, metaphorically speaking. I just hadn’t heard the call before, as I generally still listen to 80s era Duran Duran, Peter Gabriel and Rick Astley if given a choice. Shut up, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Rick Astley.

“The Powers That Be” are screwing up our country and our world, and yet “We the People” – the American Idiots, if you will – are going to do the same damn thing each generation before us has done, decade after decade. We’ll rally against the system but we’ll ultimately conform. We’ll stupidly think that since the current President is doing such a horrible job, we should elect someone from the other party, because that clearly worked last time, and the time before that, ad infinitum. We won’t change anything. We won’t vote out a Congress that has gone into business almost entirely for itself with the sole purpose of killing any meaningful legislation proposed by the rival party, just because they can. We’ll pick from a field of absolute horror shows to elect our next President, and we won’t like him (or her) either in four years but we’ll probably re-elect them because once again there won’t be a viable alternative that’s any better to choose from. The American Way has become a Boulevard of Broken Dreams. I’ve occasionally suggested on social media that America needs some tough love. We don’t subscribe to John F. Kennedy’s suggestion of asking not what this country can do for us, but what we can do for our country anymore. From the gun ownership lobbyists to the anti-abortionists to the great racial divide that seems to grow more tenuous every time you turn on the news, it’s always all about “me.” It took me a solid day of contemplation and listening to Green Day’s post-September 11 catalog to realize that Billie Joe Armstrong, flawed as anyone else, gets it better than most. I was wrong to think that his music was the complaint of a spoiled brat complaining about having a bucolic, Normal Rockwell childhood. I think his real message was not that different from John Lennon some forty years earlier. We need some real changes, a revolution, or we’re doomed. American Idiots, indeed.

Get your reality check at New Line Theatre’s production of AMERICAN IDIOT, playing March 3 – 26, 2016 at the Marcelle Theatre, 3310 Samuel Shepard Drive, just three blocks east of Grand Boulevard behind Powell Hall. Visit www.NewLineTheatre.com for more information about AMERICAN IDIOT, tickets, and future shows.

I’m a bit of a comedy snob. I can’t stand stupid comedy: low brow, “Whoa, Dude, I’m like, whatever!” fare is completely lost on me. I appreciate a more subtle hand in humor, a sly wit, a surprising turn of phrase. The British to be particularly adept at that brand of comedy, so it was much to my delight that I watched NOISES OFF, a stage comedy written by celebrated English playwright Michael Frayn and directed by Melissa Boyer for the O’FallonTheatreWorks. My only dismay is that it took me so long to discover this hilarious play.

NOISES OFF is a play within a play, or more accurately a farce within a farce, so hang on tight because this might be a bit tricky to explain. We in the audience are witnessing the final rehearsal of NOTHING ON, a presumably more serious production directed by Lloyd Dallas, a mercurial fellow played by Anthony Wininger. His leading lady, Vicki, who plays Brooke Ashton in NOTHIN ON, both of whom are played by Cassie Elam – I told you this was going to get confusing! – has a tendency to lose her contact lenses at inopportune moments. She is paired with Roger, aka Garry Lejeune, actually Jeff Loyd (I believe the spelling in the playbill was incorrect—just one L, I’m told, though the internet suggests that Gary is spelled in the English flavour with two Rs), who has some peculiar but hilarious speech patterns. Jadienne Nolan plays Dotty Otley who in turn plays Mrs. Clacket in the inside production. She’s the housekeeper with a mind like a steel sieve. Ben Ketcherside is Frederick “Freddy” Fellowes, who acts as Phillip Brent alongside his on stage wife Flavia, portrayed by Kim Morris as Belinda Blair. Bill Blanke plays Selsdon Mowbray, a once well-respected actor now merely acting at sobriety. Amanda McMichael is Poppy Norton-Taylor, the assistant stage manager for the Grand Theatre. Tim Allgood, the Stage Manager who hasn’t slept in days while getting the massive set piece constructed, is played by Mike McPartland.

If you’ve made it this far and feel like you have a pretty clear understanding of who is playing whom and when, congratulations! If you’re confused then you should get a ticket for one of this weekend’s performances so you can sort it out for yourself. If the cast list isn’t convoluted enough for you, let’s connect the dots on their relationships: Lloyd is intimate with both Vicki and Poppy; Dotty likes Garry but flirts with Freddy; Garry likewise likes Dotty and is intensely jealous of Freddy; Freddy is a bit scattershot and very squeamish when it comes to blood or violence, and never seems to notice how Dotty plays Garry against him; Selsdon just loves the bottle; and Tim would love to go to sleep. Belinda is arguably the only sensible one in the cast. If ever there was a production that needed a flowchart or a Venn diagram in the playbook, this would be it. Then again, Venn diagrams aren’t nearly as uproariously funny as NOISES OFF.  

Despite how convoluted the last two paragraphs were to describe, NOISES OFF flowed beautifully. It felt a little like watching a live taping of A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION but with the cast of MONTY PYTHON’S FLYING CIRCUS substituting for Garrison Keillor. I was surprised and immediately bemused to discover soon after the play began that Anthony Wininger was seated just across the aisle from me, much as a stage director might do during rehearsal to make sure the cast’s blocking and queues made sense from the audience’s perspective. I then noticed a guy snoozing between two stacks of stairs, dressed like a burglar in the archetypical black and white striped shirt and a stocking cap pulled low over his eyes. This was Bill Blanke, sleeping off another Selsdon Mowbray bender, and I had walked right past him on my way to my seat without having noticed him at all. With the director acting from among the audience, you get pulled into the chaos of missed lines, missed queues, technical malfunctions, prop misplacements, and anything else that could possibly go wrong a scant twelve hours before the curtain goes up for tomorrow’s matinee. The second act flips the set up, literally, and we see the first act again from backstage. Robert Hanson crafted a marvelous set that towers in the O’Fallon City Hall gymnasium space used for this production, which rotated surprisingly smoothly to give us the actors’ backstage vantage point. The second act contains some of the best comedic acting I’ve ever seen in person, as the players silently squabble, argue, cajole, and try to fix faux pas on the fly while the NOTHING ON production plays out on the other side much as it did in rehearsal, the primary difference being that Garry is now at full-out war with Freddy, Vicki wants to quit after being slighted by Lloyd, who himself is struggling to hold the show together. The third act shows the production a little further down the road on tour, and even more of a train wreck than ever.

I would happily watch any of these actors again, but found Jeff Loyd (I sure hope I’ve got that right), Anthony Wininger and Jadienne Nolan really held my attention even with so many other things to take in at any given moment. The production doesn’t overly concern itself with maintaining British accents so on the way home I found myself thinking of famous American actors who could play their parts. Jeff reminded me of William H. Macy with his delivery and vocal mannerisms, frequently closing his lines with “you know?” which amounts to much of his dialogue being about nothing at all. Anthony reminded me of Richard Lewis, acerbic, authoritative, and a bit neurotic as he alternated between charming and cruel. Jadienne nailed the scatter-minded Mrs. Clacket, constantly providing opportunities for laughter, and getting that reaction consistently. Jeff and Mike McPartland deserve special recognition for their physical performances, as both take some seriously unforgiving pratfalls in this show. Cassie Elam showed guts (and legs…and…) walking around for much of the show in her negligee and panties. Ben Ketcherside, Kim Morris and Amanda McMichael each played their parts to perfection, with Ben capturing Freddy’s naiveté, Kim being the reliable professional, and Amanda hiding Poppy’s long, slow buildup to her explosive announcement that sends the whole production into a tailspin behind her disarmingly pretty smile.

St. Louis has a lot of quality theatre groups putting on some amazing shows around town, and St. Charles County is not without some serious talent as well. Melissa Boyer, the cast and crew of O’FallonTheatreWorks put on a captivating, side-splitting production of a Tony Award winning play that any theatre group would be proud of, from Broadway in New York to 100 N. Main Street in O’Fallon, MO. For more information on tickets and directions, please visit http://www.ofallon.mo.us/parks&rec/ofallontheatreworks. NOISES OFF only runs for one more weekend, Mar 11 – 13, so don’t wait to get tickets. Missing a stellar comedy like this would just be absurd! 

I've regularly attended comic and sci-fi conventions, or whatever you want to call them these days, since the '80s.  Let me tell you, the experience has changed quite a bit in those decades.  In the past, cons were mostly a place to shop for merchandise, dress in costume, meet like-minded people, or schmooze comic creators.  Today, it's more about celebrity signings, video games, or movie and television panels.  Geeks have seemingly overwhelmed the Earth and every niche wants in on the con action.  Including more than comics and sci-fi means larger attendance for the shows, which is great in many ways.  Unfortunately, it also caused overcrowded convention floors, admission costs have skyrocketed, and worst of all, it's increasingly difficult to get tickets for huge shows like San Diego Comic Con or New York Comic Con.

I've attended both of those shows and they do offer some one-of-a-kind experiences, but they've also become mostly about waiting in excessively long lines.  Personally, I much prefer a well organized midsize-con over the super-size variety.  Last year, the inaugural Atlantic City Boardwalk Convention (ACBC) had a stunningly well done debut.  Most new events have major hiccups, but ACBC was a well oiled machine from the outset.  I attended for one day in 2015, but I'm planning to be in town the entire weekend this year!

The Convention Center will be loaded with vendors selling the finest merchandise, but besides shopping, there will be plenty else to keep you busy.  The ACBC Garage is returning, which is where you can take pictures of a variety of Batman vehicles, Ghostbusters’ Ecto-1, Back to the Future’s Delorean, and Wonder Woman’s Invisible Jet.  I can't wait to “see” that one.  The estate of William Moulton Marston, creator of Wonder Woman, will have The Marston Family Wonder Woman Museum on the show floor once again.  A film entitled Wonder Women the Untold Story of American Superheroines will also celebrate the world famous character.  Thankfully, the sci-fi crowd hasn't been forgotten as the Star Trek 50th Anniversary Tour will be presented by Roddenberry Entertainment.  And hey, if you want to get some tats, head over to Ink Fusion by Marc Draven.  That's just a sampling of the show floor, so everyone should be able to stay busy.

I mentioned celebrity signings earlier, and ACBC has a nice guest list of television and film stars like: Tyler Hoechlin, Teddy Sears, Giancarlo Esposito, Edward James Olmos, Ming-Na Wen, RJ Mitte, and Taryn Manning.  Perhaps the most exciting name was added just a few days ago when Rosario Dawson joined the guest list.  I wouldn't be surprised if some more names were added in the coming days.  Oh, and If you're into comics, it is a comic convention after all, then you may want to meet the likes of Bob Camp, Frank Tieri, Jamal Igle, or Dave Johnson.  With all these names, and plenty more I haven't mentioned, there should be enough autographs, comics, and original art to please anyone!

The area I may be most excited about is the ACBC Kidz Zone.  You see, I have a three-year-old son named Nathan.  My wife and I are bringing him along, and I can't wait to see what he thinks of the Kidz Zone.  In the Con’s own words: “A family friendly part of the show floor where kids can let their imaginations soar. Play. Laugh. Dream. Your kids can show off their super skills in so many ways! Start their love of comics off with Free coloring. Bounce House. Photo Backdrops. Games. Live Characters.  On Sunday we’ll host a Kids Only Costume Contest with Prizes for everyone!”  Sounds like a blast!

Night life is what Atlantic City is famous for, and ACBC isn't going to let you down in that regard.  After the regular floor hours, ACBC has the CONquest Live Game Show, which is open to all attendees on Saturday night.  Sounds to me like it will be a bit like Let's Make a Deal.  Who doesn't want to be a part of that?  There’re after parties both Friday and Saturday as well as the World Famous Boardwalk, not to mention all the casinos.  So, you can keep your Con on till the wee hours, if you so choose.

Finally, Critical Blast is co-sponsoring a party with the Iron Room thanks to my close friend Chad Minnes from Lacey Cleaning.  The party starts at 9 and there are over $1,000 in prizes to be won in various costuming categories.  I will be adding a separate writeup about the party, so check it out later in the week.  Expect a lot more coverage of ACBC in the next couple of weeks!  Whether it be at the Con, on the boards, or at the Iron Room, I hope to see a lot of readers down in AC!

For more on the Con, visit the ACBC website.

Check them out on Twitter. 

And of course, Like them on Facebook. 

In a 'worst to first' ranking, I give unto you, the Star Wars movies ranked with nothing to quantify it other than my personal preference.

Episode I: The Phantom Menace - With a child actor who delivers dialogue as bland as the plot and an amphibious alien whose attempts at comedy relief are more distracting than anything else, The Phantom Menace is clearly the weakest of the franchise. Even the fast-paced intensity of the duel between Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Darth Maul can't save this movie from being the worst of the bunch.
When they retconned the force into bacteria, the magic was destroyed.

Episode II: Attack of the Clones - There's a large gap between the quality of 'Phantom' and 'Clones', so don't let the position of Episode II lead you to believe I don't like it. There was plenty to enjoy here. The 'Clone Wars' was immortalized in Star Wars lore when it was first mentioned in 'A NEW HOPE' and many of us waited our entire lives to see it play out. While the field of battle was epic, much of the movie was devoted to detective work by Obi-Wan and playing out the love story between Anakin and an older woman.

Episode IV: A New Hope - The movie that started it all but there was too much that went wrong. Luke was a whiny farmboy who ran off with a crazy old man who filled his head with delusions of grandeur. The movie starts off with action but just as quickly turns into a long, dragged out tour through the desert. It's the scene that usually turns first time viewers off to the movie. I still want to skip it. There's literally nothing happening and whenever I show someone the movie for the first time, I keep my fingers crossed that they don't leave the room. If they survive that, the rest of the movie is worth watching. However it quickly becomes a parody of itself with plenty of fodder for pundits to poke holes in the plot.

Episode III: Revenge of the Sith - Obi-Wan Kenobi finally gets his chance to shine and the showdown between him and Anakin was worthy of the build-up. We see the epic turn of Anakin to the dark side, the execution of a sith lord and the infamous 'order 66' which commanded the slaughter of thousands of Jedi. Perhaps the darkest of all the Star Wars movies, which is probably why I have it ranked on the low-end. If we didn't get that scene of Darth Vader's 'NOOOO!' moment, I may have bumped it up the list.

Episode VI: Return of the Jedi - When you think of 'JEDI', the first thought that comes to mind is the cute, fuzzy Ewoks that live on the forest moon of Endor. I really wanted to rank this one behind 'SITH' but couldn't bring myself to do it. The more I thought about the movie, the more I felt impacted by the events that took place. Sure the Ewoks were a little hokey, but the rescue of Han Solo, the showdown between Luke and vader and the death of Yoda highlight so many great moments that came from 'JEDI'. It also produced one of the most used meme's on the internet...

Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back - The ending of the movie cast a shadow of doubt over our heroes as Han's fate was left unknown. Vader drops one of the greatest 'WTF' lines in the history of cinema. The introduction of Yoda who goes from crazy swamp creature to wise master Jedi, testing young Luke's patience. The battle on Hoth was intense and showcased Luke's resourcefulness. The movie is the second darkest, behind 'SITH', as battle between father and son turns into a relentless beatdown of the hero. For the longest time this was my #1 favorite movie of the entire franchise, until...

Episode VII: The Force Awakens - J.J. Abrams delivers a powerhouse entry into the franchise by awakening themes from 'A NEW HOPE'. The movie felt familiar and nostalgic for older fans, such as myself, but also fresh and inviting for a new audience. The introduction of a fun new droid in BB-8 mimicked Lucas' vision of creating a property with the foresight of merchandising. Kylo Ren was a villain whose past was dark and mysterious; fitting of Star Wars. Han Solo's death impacted many fans on a personal level but it was done with such poetry and handled with such care that I can't stay mad. I loved the scene and everything about the delivery. Rey was a wonderful protagonist with some shrouded history of her own and the surprise ending as she hands Luke her lightsaber only got me more excited for the next chapter.

The only question that remains, is where will Episode VIII rank on the list?

On Saturday, May 14 from 9 PM - Midnight, Critical Blast and Iron Room will present the First Annual Post-Con Costume Party in Atlantic City!  So, enjoy the day at ACBC then head over to the Iron Room!  

First off, let's talk money.  And we're talking a lot of money.  There are $1,100 in total cash prizes!  The event kicks off at 9 but judging begins at 10pm in a wide variety of categories.  

Want a breakdown, well check this out:

$300 for Best Overall Cosplay Outfit

$200 for Sexiest Cosplay Outfit

$200 for Best Sci-Fi/Horror/Fantasy Cosplay Outfit

$200 for Best Comic Book Based

$200 for Best Video Game Based

Judging the event will be local luminaries realtor Glen Kelly, radio host Marc Berman, the Iron Room's own Mark Callazzo, SNJ Today entertainment correspondent Jax Loder, and straight from Hell’s Kitchen, Chef Manda Palomino. 

Not only will you be in good hands with the judges, but your stomach will be looked after as well.  The Iron Room is a highly regarded staple of Atlantic City, so it's not just about the costumes.  This is going to be a party with exquisite food thanks to Chef Kevin Cronin.  Tapas are small savory dishes for which the Iron Room specializes.  I plan to try many!  How's Udon Mac and Cheese sound?  Lamb Meatballs?  Tuna Crudo?  Duroc Sausage & Duck Frittata?  There's even Steak Tartare, Filet Mignon, and so much more.  I don't know about you, but my mouth is watering already.  You can compliment your meal with “the finest selection of whiskey, wine, microbrews and beers.”  Each bottle is “hand selected” Mr. Callazzo and Susan Hesleitner who is the founder of the New Jersey Wine School.  All of your dining needs will be met!

Beyond everything you’ve heard so far, WrestlePro will be sending two of their costumed stars to take part in the festivities.  If you’ve never been to a WrestlePro show then you’re missing out on some of the finest wrestling offered in the world.  You’ll have a chance to meet and mingle with the terrifying Giant Leather and Gambles the Clown.  Whether you’re a wrestling fan or not these men are a sight to behold!  

The event is being organized by my good friend Chad Minnes who is the co-owner of local business Lacey Cleaning.  He's promised quite a few surprises beyond what I've told you about.  Whether you are a regular cosplayer or not, there's some substantial awards to be won, great food to be eaten, and top that off with the finest spirits.  Everyone should get dressed up for what promises to be one of the coolest parties a city known for its partying has ever had!

The Iron Room is located at 648 N. Albany Ave in Atlantic City, NJ.  For more information, please check out the event page on Facebook.  

It's that time of year again -- time to take stock of last year's entertainment offerings and decide which was the best of the best (of the best, sir!) (Okay, who let Captain America in here?)

Last year Critical Blast let its readers choose the best among Movies, Television Shows, and Actors in each. This year, we've doubled our categories to include Novels and Comics (selecting the best Writer, Artist and Storyline) for the year.

We put forth nominees in each category (after much careful discussion, a few beers, and one chipped tooth), and presented those to you, our readers -- making sure we also let the readers nominate a write-in candidate that our staff, in its infinitessimal wisdom, might have overlooked.

So without the benefit of a drumroll, a ceremonial envelope, or even a distinguished academy of so-called experts and advisors...well, why don't we just let the images speak for themselves for right now. We'll have more detailed follow-up on each winning entry a little later on.

On Saturday, May 14, Geek Time Entertainment, Critical Blast and The Iron Room presented the First Annual Costume Party in Atlantic City!  The party served as a thrilling capstone for the day's events at ACBC Con.  Seriously, is there anything better than a cool party after an exhilarating day on the convention floor?

The winners always go home with an extra special smile, but just about everyone in attendance seemed to have a great time.  Here is a rundown of the winners:

Blake Lichtenberger’s Samurai Boba Fett won the $300 award for Best Overall Cosplay.  Look at the details in the handcrafted helmet!  The work is utterly stunning, especially when you get up close.

Equally impressive was the costume of Blake’s wife, Evelin Urcuyo, who took the $200 prize as Samurai Darth Vader in the Out of This World category.  Another amazing costume from two exceptionally nice people.  You should definitely follow their cosplay features on Facebook!

Teddy Schools as “Macho Man” Randy Savage took home $200 for Sexiest Cosplay Outfit.  Yes, ladies...that beard is real!  See why he won sexiest?  Teddy is working on a Shawn Michaels costume next, which may win him future awards in the category!

Tabitha Santiago in a lovely Alice in Wonderland costume took home $200 for Best Sci-Fi/Horror/Fantasy Cosplay Outfit.  Alice is iconic, and Tabitha pulled off the assured toughness the character demands.

Hector Vasquez as Deadpool won $200 for Best Comic Book Based.  Deadpool may be the Merc With the Mouth, but crazy energy and sign work put this outfit over the top!

Judging was carried out by realtor Glen Kelly, radio host Marc Berman, Iron Room owner Mark Callazzo, SNJ Today entertainment correspondent Jax Loder, and Chef Manda Palomino.  Each of the judges and luminaries mingled with the guests and made everyone feel like a big wig.  Chef Manda also did a brilliant job as the master of ceremonies.  She interacted with everyone in attendance and was the life of the party.  Would you expect anything less from a person that survived Hell’s Kitchen?

Obviously, location is an important piece to the success of any party, and the Iron Room, just a short drive from the Convention Center, was a fine backdrop for the event.  Before the party, I enjoyed a sumptuous dinner that included a beautiful selection of Tapas.  I enjoyed Udon Mac & Cheese, Steak Tartare, Thick Cut Bacon, and finished with the Boardwalk Funnel Cake Waffle.  Most may go to AC to gamble, but I'm telling you, it's worth the trip just to eat chef Kevin Cronin’s creations.  During the event, there were tasty party foods available as well as some themed mixed drinks like the Stan The Man or the Hank McCoy.  Little touches like that really pulled the party together.

If you're a reader of Critical Blast’s Cheap Pops column, you'll know all about WrestlePro.  As an awesome treat, partiers had a chance to mingle--or be chased by--the terrifying Giant Leather and creepy Gambles the Clown.  Let's not forget, the coolest lifeguard in the biz, Dylan Stiffwood, tried to keep order with the monsters.  All three men added a tremendous ambiance to the evening.   You should check out more about WrestlePro on their website or head to Keyport, NJ on June 11th for a live taste of the action!  

Special shoutout goes to Chad Minnes who dressed as Hulk Hogan and partied with us late into the night.  Chad owns Lacey Cleaning, and this was his initial foray in party organizing.  I'm excited to see what's next for his planning endeavor called Geek Time Entertainment. One thing is for sure, it's going to be a lot of fun!  

For more information and pictures of the event, check out the event page. You can get the latest from Geek Time Entertainment on Facebook.

By Darren Beyer

Science fiction has been a traditionally male dominated genre—at least that’s what I’ve been led to believe over the years. One had to look no farther than the closest science fiction and fantasy convention to see a crowd dominated by males. Look to the shelves of your local Barnes & Noble or the top science fiction lists on Amazon to see stories with male protagonists catering to male readers. That’s why, when talking to my doctor, a woman doctor, about my newly released book, I was surprised about how the conversation went.

“You published a book? I’d love to read it.”

“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” I said. “It’s science fiction.”

“I love science fiction. In fact, I’m part of a women’s book club and we all love science fiction.”

Wait. What?

Surely, I must have stumbled on an abnormal enclave of women who like science fiction. There couldn’t be that many in one place! According to a 2010 poll by Harris Interactive, male readers were 60% more likely than female to have read a science fiction novel in the prior year. So there you have it. My doctor and her book club must be an anomaly. But then I did a little more digging. According to a 2012 NEA report, 56.1% of women read a work of fiction in the year prior, compared to only 37% of men. When you do the math, it turns out that, while men are up 60% in the science fiction department, women are up 52% overall. Doing even more math, you can find that men who read sci-fi hold only a narrow edge over women who read it by a count of 51% to 49%. If that were a political poll, it would be a statistical dead heat.

Granted, the results are derived from two different polls from two different years, but directionally it tells a story: science fiction is not so male dominated after all.

To back this up, I found an online article on the Science Fiction Writers of America web site by Mark Niemann-Ross where he writes about a survey he hosted, albeit an unscientific one, on science fiction. He found that out of 581 respondents who said they read the genre, 57% were men. That’s a little higher than the 51% I calculated above, but he also wrote that when adjusted for internet demographics he opined that a science fiction author’s readers were as likely to be men as women. There’s that dead heat again.

So why then are so many science fiction stories dominated by male protagonists and themes that cater to men? The only reason one can come up with is that the perception of a male dominated genre is perpetuating itself on the psyche of its authors. Certainly female characters abound in science fiction, but relatively few novels present primary protagonists who are women. Would more women read more science fiction if writers catered to them a little more?

In yet another unscientific, yet potentially relevant, piece of data, I recently sent out 100 requests to readers asking them to provide an honest review of my new novel, Casimir Bridge, in exchange for a complimentary copy of the book in whichever format they desired. Casimir Bridge features a woman as the primary protagonist. Now, in sending the requests, I cheated a bit. When I knew the recipient was a woman, I added a couple sentences about the main character being a woman and having women in power roles throughout the book. The results were telling. Of the 100 recipients, 65 were men and 35 were women. I received a pretty good response - 34 total said that they would do an honest review for me. Of those 34, 16 were women and 18 were men. Once again, this is an unscientific data set, and the sample size is low, but only 28% of the men I asked responded, versus 47% of the women – remember, I added the extra few sentences about a woman protagonist and women in power roles in my requests to women. Now, one can’t draw any statistical conclusions from this. Perhaps women are more apt to help a budding author in need. Perhaps the women who read science fiction are more willing to provide their input due to the aforementioned perceptions about gender and the genre. But then maybe, just maybe, more women responded because they wanted to read a science fiction novel featuring a woman in the starring role, and were thus more willing to provide a review.

Thirty, forty, fifty years ago or more, I have little doubt that science fiction was the domain of men. The stories catered to men and were primarily read by men. As an example, Astounding Science Fiction (later Analog) had 6.7% female readership in 1949, and 25% in 1974¹. More recently, however, science fiction has evolved. The story lines have become more complex, the writing more real, and the plots more engaging. Science fiction has gotten smarter and more women are reading it. Traditional gender lines have become blurred in all facets of life. It is becoming more apparent that they have also blurred in science fiction. It’s time more science fiction authors recognize this and write more stories featuring women in the lead. It can only lead to more readers and broader acceptance of the genre.

¹ DePauw University Science Fiction Studies 1977

Beyer received a degree in aerospace engineering in 1989 from Virginia Tech and, following graduation, was hired by NASA at Kennedy Space Center, where he worked as a Space Shuttle experiment engineer for nearly ten years. Beyer has had the honor of working onboard every Space Shuttle orbiter except Challenger. In late 1998, Darren left NASA to become an entrepreneur, and, after more than seventeen years, an author. He is a student of science and technology, an expert in mobile technology and payments, and is an instrument-rated private pilot. Darren lives in California near San Francisco with his wife, dogs, cats and fish. 

Casimir Bridge is now available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Learn more about Darren Beyer at www.tek22.com and connect with him on Facebook.

When I saw the lineup for the 25^th Anniversary season of New Line Theatre, I immediately noted ATOMIC as the one that interested me the most. Why, you ask? I knew HEATHERS from the 1988 film, I knew AMERICAN IDIOT from Green Day’s music, and I knew TELL ME ON A SUNDAY from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s pedigree. ATOMIC I knew nothing about. Heck, this is only the fourth time anyone has ever staged this show, and the first in the Midwest. I assumed it would have something to do with bombs—maybe a rock opera about the Reagan years, or perhaps a declaration against nuclear power in favor of safer, greener, renewable forms of energy? As it turned out, it was a biography of one of the lost names of the Manhattan Project, presented as a moving and tense rock musical from Danny Ginges (book and lyrics), Philip Foxman (music and lyrics) and Andy Peterson (orchestrations). If you think the theatre season in St. Louis is pretty much over when spring rolls around, think again. ATOMIC is “the bomb” and well worth checking out.

New Line Theatre Directors Scott Miller and Mike Dowdy are known in the region for putting on some edgy and irreverent shows. ATOMIC is intense, but not wild and crazy. It doesn’t have to be—history took care of that already. The production revolves chiefly around Leo Szilard (Zachary Allen Farmer), a Hungarian physicist who escaped Europe just before the start of World War II. Soon after arriving in America with his girlfriend, Dr. Trude Weiss (Ann Hier), he finds himself deeply enmeshed with Enrico Fermi (Reynaldo Arceno), Arthur Compton (Ryan Scott Foizey), Edward Teller (Sean Michael), J. Robert Oppenheimer (Jeffrey M. Wright) and Leona Woods (Larrisa White). These individuals, along with several other physicists, (represented by Victoria Valentine on “Jane-of-All-Trades” duty) were the key players in The Manhattan Project, the secret project to create the atomic bomb before the Germans. Of course, our intelligence on the German bomb effort was not terribly robust, and the Third Reich never actually achieved a useable device. President Harry Truman was advised by project liaison General Leslie Groves (Sean Michael again) that the bomb was ready, and “Little Boy” was loaded onto a B-29 bomber plane named “The Enola Gay,” named after bomber pilot Col. Paul Tibbets’s (Jeffrey M. Wright again) mother. The rest, as they say, is history. Hiroshima and Nagasaki were virtually wiped off the map and Japan surrendered to the Unites States. The atomic bomb brought World War II to a decisive end, but spawned an arms race between the United States and Soviet Union that has spilled over to nearly every industrialized country on the planet at some point since, including aggressive countries like North Korea today.

That is what ATOMIC is ultimately about; It’s not the bomb itself, it’s the ramifications of Szliard’s and the Manhattan Project’s hubris. Each person involved with the project had to grapple with the problem of intellectualism versus morality—being smart enough to know how to do something dangerous versus being smart enough to know that maybe you shouldn’t do it at all. Szilard struggled early and often with this question, and decided for himself that it was too terrible a thing to be used against cities teaming with innocent non-combatants. Zachary Allen Farmer, one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, dials it down in his role, affecting a soft European accident that gave a bit of credibility to his academic character. He worked well with Ann Hier, a lovely actress I’ve wanted to see in a larger role for some time. Ann’s sweet voice countered Zachary’s bombastic tenor sweetly, and the pair makes for a believable couple on stage. Ann’s Trude Weiss is the emotional touchstone of the show, trying hard to maintain some semblance of the couple’s normal life as Szilard becomes increasingly distant during his work on the bomb. I don’t believe the real Szilard and Weiss actually had a romance, but it works well here to break up the science. The science itself isn’t dense—you won’t feel like you’re auditing a Physics 101 course when you come to the Marcelle Theatre. Reynaldo Arceno’s Enrico Fermi provides mild comedic relief while maintaining a healthy level of scientific curiosity and personal turmoil. Rey’s singing voice is fantastic with a unique quality that’s hard to put my finger on, but that’s all the more reason to come see and hear him yourself. I greatly enjoyed Ryan Scott Foizey as Arthur Compton, the bridge between the project and the military who was also a deeply religious man. Separating God and Country is tough sometimes, and Ryan expertly demonstrates that conflict in Compton. I’ve enjoyed the high tenor of his singing voice since I first heard him in New Line’s production of NEXT TO NORMAL a few years ago, and it pairs wonderfully here with Larissa White in “What I Tell Myself,” an emotionally gripping song of regret shared by most of the participants. Larissa has been a regular on the New Line Stage over the last couple of seasons, starring in BONNIE AND CLYDE, and supporting in a variety of productions including the excellent THE THREEPENNY OPERA and this season’s HEATHERS and AMERICAN IDIOT. She plays Leona Woods with sass as she denies Edward Teller’s rmantic advances while demonstrating the necessary intelligence to show that Woods wasn’t just eye candy in this production. Sean Michael, Jeffrey M. Wright and Victoria Valentine all have multiple roles, and each actor pulls them off with aplomb. The speed in which they changed costumes from scene to scene was astounding, and kudos to Sarah Porter for her expert costume design choices. Sean possesses a very strong voice—when he was facing my side of the house I could pick his voice out from the rest of the ensemble. Victoria is a relative newcomer to New Line, having appeared in HEATHERS. I look forward to seeing more of her in future productions, and really enjoyed her on “Holes in the Doughnuts” with Ann and Larissa, a number that was a bit reminiscent of Christina Aguilera’s “Candyman” video. Jeffrey M. Wright, a veteran presence on a variety of St. Louis stages, plays Oppenheimer as a pompous ass before he begins to realize just what their weapon could eventually do to the entire world. As Tibbets, he exudes machismo, while as a singer he plays it smoothly subdued. This cast is, quite frankly, ridiculously talented. I’d be happy to watch a production with any one of these fine actors, but all eight at once is a must-see event.

As always, the Robert Lippert-designed set doesn’t disappoint, functioning as a screen to hide the ever excellent New Line Band, led by pianist Jeffrey Richard Carter, guitarist D. Mike Bauer and guitarist/keyboardist Adam Rugo, cellist Eric Bateman, bassist Jake Stergos, violinist Twinda Murry and percussionist Clancy Newell. The score for Atomic is terrific; D. Mike’s power chords counterpointing the string section’s smooth melancholy, balanced by the steady rhythms of Clancy’s drums and Jeffrey’s and Adam’s keyboards. The centerpiece of the set is a simple but heavy wooden table that functions as the Manhattan Project’s workspace, the Szilard/Weiss kitchen, and the Enola Gay in a bit of Jeffrey M. Wright pantomime. The far end of the set opposite the band was set up like one of those old neighborhood watering holes, where Szilard and Tibbets meet a couple of times and the whole project goes to refill their liquid courage reservoirs. The set bisects the Marcelle Theatre’s seats, so half of the audience is on either side of the set. The result is that nobody in the audience is more than perhaps six rows away from being on stage, making you feel like you’re not just observing a performance but are mere feet from history. Rob and Lighting Technician Michael Juncal did a tremendous job lighting the stage. That may seem like a “Well duh!” statement, but you shouldn’t overlook the nuances of light and its impact on a given production. The light hues for the majority of the play seemed to veer towards yellow, which along with the heavy use of brown shades in Sarah Porter’s costumes gives the show a warm sepia tone appearance. In other words, it helps it feel dated, and not brilliantly awash in modern incandescence. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but the first act ends with the successful test of the atomic bomb at Alamogordo and Rob’s lighting choices brings that experience to the audience in a wonderfully unexpected way.

The audience for opening night was a little light, and while there were a number of choices around town for entertainment—The Cardinals were home against the San Francisco Giants, Circus Flora was open just a block away from the theatre and Shakespeare Festival St. Louis underway just a few miles further uptown—the theatre patrons who did attend were very energetic. The production took on a vibe usually seen at sporting events. Towards the end of the first act, the crowd started cheering and whistling after each song. The finale of Act One with Mr. Lippert’s neat lighting effect got a big ovation. Act Two seemed like it might feature some chants of “Let’s Go Szilard!” as the audience never backed down. When the actors came out to take their bows they got a blistering standing ovation that belied their numbers. I overheard a number of folks at intermission telling each other how good this production was, and that it wasn’t at all what they expected. I didn’t ask what they were expecting, but New Line has a bit of a reputation for pushing people out of their comfort zones. ATOMIC includes the occasional curse word but is suitable for everyone. I don’t think Scott Miller picks shows simply for shock value.  He picks shows that are interesting to him in some way. I’ve read about the Manhattan Project over the years myself, but Leo Szilard wasn’t a name I remembered, unlike Oppenheimer and Fermi. Szilard, as it turns out, was more famous for pioneering atomic medicine than the atomic bomb. I applaud Scott Miller for bringing ATMOIC to his stage and masterfully blending education with entertainment.  

ATOMIC plays the Marcelle Theatre, 3310 Samuel Shepard Drive (three blocks east, more or less behind Powell Hall) June 2 – 25, 2016.Come down early for the circus, but get your tickets in advance for ATOMIC. Once word gets around about how tremendous this show is, it’s going to be a hot ticket, no pun intended. For more information, visit www.NewLineTheatre.com or purchase your tickets via MetroTix, 314-534-1111.

Saint Louis's premiere horror, sci-fi and pop culture convention, Con-Tamination, returns for another spine-tingling, hair-raising, jaw-dropping year, this June 17 through 19th at The Stratford Inn, 800 S. Highway Drive, Fenton, Mo 63026.

Among the many guests this year are BATTLESTAR GALACTICA original cast members Dirk Benedict (Starbuck), Richard Hatch (Apollo), Herbert Jefferson Jr. (Boomer), Anne Lockhart (Sheba) and Jack Stauffer (Bojay). They'll be joined by Gary Graham (STAR TREK: ENTERPRISE, ALIEN NATION) and STAR TREK: ORIGINAL SERIES legend, The Gorn Commander (Bobby Clark).

Wrestling superstars Hacksaw Jim Duggan and Atomic Dog will be flexing muscle and signing autographs. Fans can also meet screen sirens Kayla Perkins, Kristina Klebe, and Seka in her last U.S. appearance.

For more information, go to Con-Tamination.com. You can also visit them on Facebook/ContaminationSTL or follow their twitter, @HorrorSciFiCon for changing information.

Contamination, Saint Louis’ Horror, Sci Fi, Pop Culture convention returned this year in Fenton and runs Friday thru Sunday,  June 17, 18, 19.

I must confess that although this show has been an annual event for several years, this was the first year I had heard of it.

After attending the Wizard World mega shows for several years, I was intrigued to find this one in my own backyard so to speak. Looking at their lineup of guests and events, it was clear that it was a smaller show than the other big name event, but for me, in many ways, the lineup of guests and vendors suited my tastes even more. This was even more geared towards horror, sci-fi, and pop culture, just like their billing states.

For instance, I am a huge original BATTLESTAR GALACTICA fan, and here in one spot, in one row of tables, we have Richards Hatch, Dirk Benedict, Anne Lockhart, Herbert Jefferson Junior and Jack Stauffer! Shoot, if Lorne Greene had still been alive I suspect he would have been here too!

While the lines to see them were long at times, they were never that long that you lost an hour in line for each person--and everyone took time to talk with you, take pictures with you, and gave you the sense they were really glad to meet you.

There were/are many other celebrities there too. Hall of Fame wrestler Hacksaw Jim Duggan, adult film icon Seka, Leslie Easterbrook, and Bishop Stevens, to name a few others, and all were friendly and talking with fans.

What was so nice about this set up is that it wasn’t row upon endless row of vendors and stars spread out over a convention center floor. Here everyone was in one large room.

There were many sci-fi and horror authors there, and it was nice to be able to take time and talk to them about their books. One such authors is Kenny Sills, whose novel “Tattoo: A Beautiful Sin” struck me as one that is breaking the mold.

Without giving too much away (because a review will be forthcoming), the story deals with a serial killer that that likes to cut out his victims tattoos while listening to classical music; and what breaks the mold here is that if you go to a website you can listen to the classical music that the killer is playing. How utterly creepy and immersive is that! And Kenny was a consummate gentleman, giving us all the attention we asked of him. I can say this early on, my daughter read 30 pages in the car before we got home, and loved the way he writes, saying it was a really scary read; so I cannot wait to “carve” time to read it this weekend!

I also got meet up close and personal with Bishop Stevens, whom I have liked for years in movies and wrestling. What fun it was to talk and joke with him…and he even graciously posed with yours truly!

Something else that was different was a booth set up by “Horrible Horror.” This is a podcast along the lines of the old MST3K, except that it is a weekly podcast that reviews, critiques and laughs at only the worst of the worst in horror movies. Who knew they were out there? Not I, and that is why events like this are so important! It brings to light fun and different things that fans of the genre such as I can indulge ourselves in and help keep going. I cannot wait to tune in to hear them. (You can find them at www.facebook.com/horriblehorror.)

Something else at this show that I thought was really cool and different, and that even the WW show did not offer, was an “escape experience” called “Layers of Insanity” where, for a modest fee, you or you and your friend go into a room and have to discover clues in order to get out into the next room (four rooms in total) in order to escape.

Usually these things you see this sort of event at Halloween, and to have it here in a hotel during a horror and sci-fi convention makes it even more creepy because among other things, hotels can be notorious denizens of the insane and macabre. I encourage you, if you go there this weekend, to look for them. They are a little off the beaten path, down a hallway, but just look around for the zombie and you’ll know you are on the right path.

The panel discussions, while much fewer than the myriad of events at WW, were to me better--basically one panel at a time, be it a BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, Seka, or STAR TREK panel, or one of several others, one at a time means you didn’t have to choose one over the other and miss one you might have liked. And you were really up close to the panel, not looking halfway across a huge room up at people on some sort of raised platform.

The show had several items up for silent auction that ran from an autographed guitar to Kiss 45’s to plastic boobs! And you could walk right up and look at them closely and, if you like, just put your name and bid on the sheet next to it. Very personable and trusting. I like that.

There was even a dinosaur there that was operated by a man in a suit that was enthralling the kids (and adults). I couldn’t get a picture (because you can’t photograph someone else’s kids) but it was really lifelike and the actor in the suit really knew his actions as the dino looked alive.

There were many other vendors there too that had everything from toys to DVDs to Steampunk, to... well, you name it! They even have great t-shirts too! And what is nice is they sell previous year’s shirts for only 5 dollars! This means everyone can come home with something and it won’t cost an arm or a leg (ha ha)!

This was a great CON and I can’t wait for them to come back again next year and get re-Contaminated!

Rating: Off the charts!