Action Figure: A Syrian Asylum Seeker Makes Her English-Language Debut in "This Hope: A Pericles Project"

Lida Maria Benson, Raghad Makhlouf, Lori Pitts, and Rocelyn Frisco (Hannah Hessel Ratner)

I've got a feature in today's Washington City Paper about Raghad Mahklouf, a Syrian asylum-seeker—and veteran actor—who's appearing in The Welders' new riff on Pericles. Only 34 seats are available for each performance, so don't sleep on those tickets if this appeals to you.

Dancing With Myself: "Suspiria," reviewed.

Tilda Swinton plays three parts in Suspiria; she’s most recognizable in this one. (Amazon)

Luca Guadagnino's new reimagining of the vibrant Dario Argento Italian cult classic Suspiria is is vulgar, shamelessly pretentious, and frequently opaque. But there were also things about about it that I didn’t like. My NPR review is here.

After the new SUSPIRIA last night, I got a burger, then dashed off a few run-on sentences about the movie before going to bed.

No indigestion, no nightmares. This is no boast, but a thank-you to my subconscious. I know we don’t always get along but you did really me a solid, man

— Chris Klimek (@ctklimek) October 26, 2018

Written in the Stars: Constellation Theatre’s "Aida," reviewed.

Because three shows had their press nights here in the DMV the same night Constellation Theatre Company opened their version of the Y2K-era Elton John-Tim Rice musical Aida, myWashington City Paper review took a little while to appear. Here it is. The principal actors are better than most of the material.

Pop Culture Happy Hour: "First Man" and What's Making Us Happy

Ryan Gosling as Neil Armstrong (Universal)

I was delighted as always to join my pals Linda Holmes, Stephen Thompson, and Glen Weldon on Pop Culture Happy Hour to discuss the Neil Armstrong biopic First Man—a movie that, like the new A Star Is Born, I appreciate more the more I think about it. Somehow we managed to avoid re-litigating the great La La Land controversy during this conversation. (My bomb-throwing position: It's good!) When I used the word Weldonian in the studio, Glen nearly tore his rotator cuff making the "cut" gesture, but cooler, more hirsute heads—those of producers Jessica Reedy and Vincent Acovino—prevailed.

During the "What's Making Us Happy" segment I endorse Alec Nevala-Lee's new history Astounding: John W. Campbell, Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, L. Ron Hubbard, and the Golden Age of Science Fiction, of which I'll have a review appearing in the Dallas Morning News shortly. It happens that Nevala-Lee wrote a thoughtful post about First Man and the silly flap among people who haven't seen the movie over the fact that it doesn't depict the planting of the American flag on the lunar surface. I'm glad to share it.

That 90s Show: "Venom," reviewed.

The Amazing Spider-Man does not appear in the new film Venom.

For NPR, I reviewed Venom, which I can't actually prove is a shelved Jim Carrey vehicle from 1997 in which Carrey has now been digitally (and tentacle-y) replaced by Tom Hardy.

But you can't prove that it's not.

Theatre of Pain: Woolly's "Gloria" and Round House's "Small Mouth Sounds," reviewed.

Megan Graves and Ahmad Kamal are two of the standout performers in Gloria. (Teresa Castracane)

After the customary late summer lull, I’m back on the theater beat. Last week’s Washington City Paper featured my reviews of two plays that first appeared in 2015, now making their regional premieres Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ stunner Gloria, at Woolly Mammoth, and Small Mouth Sounds by Bess Wohl, at Round House.

FURTHER READING: My 2013 City Paper profile of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins is here.

Anti-Monster Squad: "The Predator," reviewed.

Boyd Holbrook, Trevante Rhodes, Keegan Michael-Key, Thomas Jane and Augusto Aguiliera. (Fox)

Predator, directed by John McTiernan the year before he made Die Hard, has been a favorite film of mine ever since I biked home with the rented VHS cassette (I couldn't persuade my dad to take me, aged 10, to see it in the theater) and watched it three or four times in a weekend. It was the 12th highest-grossing film of 1987, a year when the box office top five was Three Men and a Baby, Fatal Attraction, Beverly Hills Cop II, Good Morning, Vietnam, and Moonstruck. One sequel and four original, not-based-on-preexisting material screenplays. Just in case you need a sense of just how long ago that was.

Anyway, I love Shane Black, so I wanted The Predator to be better than it is. My NPR review is here.

I Got Stripes: Peppermint, reviewed.

If you want a wound dressed right, you'd better dress it yourself. Jennifer Garner tapes up. (STX)

"The title, with its slight echo of the 1973 Pam Grier vehicle Coffy, promises a sticky confection of feminism and violence, but the movie it's selling is a desultory drag. It's so dull-edged that even prospect of a white woman (named North!) whose family was afflicted by, um, economic anxiety before being murdered by cartel-affiliated outlaws doesn't carry the scab-picking provocation that it should."

That's me on Peppermint, a sweaty return to sweaty form for Jennifer Garner, from Taken director Pierre Morel. It's the kind of movie that doesn't get shown at the Toronto International Film Festival, where I currently am not. The full review is here.