A second stab at credibility and ERROL MORRIS' FIRST PERSON

Looksie, looksie, I'm a credible writer again ... well, I would be if I could get it together and have my information faxed to the good people at the SF Weekly so they'd pay me.

Regardless of my responsibility inadequacies, here's my review of the Method Man/Redman show from Sunday night at Mezzanine:

Method Man/Red Man @ Mezzanine 8/16

Here's some additional thoughts I had while standing on tip-toes amongst a cloud of weed smoke, attempting to see these two rap legends perform:

1. Sigh, I sort of hate hip hop shows. I've been to so many in my brief life (there was a period of time, where hip-hop shows were kind of my thing - who'da thought huh?) and after 27 years, I've come to realize that they're just not my bag. There's a hardline of hip-hop standards that so many groups adhere to I find myself feeling a musical sense of deja vu at nearly every show I attend. I just find myself scratching my head afterwards, wondering where my ten (or thirty-five dollars in this case) went to.

2. That said, I'm also a pretty negative person. I came in to Method Man and Redman expecting to hate it, and thus for the first twenty minutes of their set I just sat and stewed, bouncing negative remark after negative remark off Alex. After the show was long done, I turned to the lovely lady and asked, "What'd you think of that show?" And to my surprise, she said, "I liked it." Which prompted a long and thoughtful discussion about the show and why I didn't like it, most of which informed the article above. This negativity thing's a real downer sometimes, and it's nice to have a second mind to let me see that.

3. I wonder if there is some sort of genetic trait that allows some folk to smoke a ton of weed and still be able to perform phenomenally well at, say, anything? Lord knows how much sticky green these two gentlemen devoured before the show, but I saw each of 'em smoke at least a few hits of passed along weed trees through out the show. I know if I'd smoked two or three hits I'd be half asleep in frog pajamas, let alone remembering how to rap an entire set list worth of lyrics. Call it long-term acclimation, but I think there's a gene - one that I don't have.

Would love to hear any and all thoughts about the write-up. Thanks a lot!


Do you like Errol Morris, the award-winning documentarian who's never filmed a movie I haven't enjoyed? Do you enjoy interesting subjects like squid hunting, frozen heads, singing serial killers and the women they love, or autistic cattle slaughterers? Do you like well-put together shorts that you can consume quickly, feeling far more intelligent post-consumption?

Well then lordy, lordy, you need to tromp out your door to the video store and track down a copy of Errol Morris' First Person. Morris released this television series on Bravo before the station had devolved in to bastion for shitty reality television. It's everything any of his films has, just in smaller chunks. Fascinating subjects, Morris' brilliant questions and some of the better editing and music (aside from the opening and closing music) you've seen on television - yup, it is all there, awaiting you on the shelves of some fantastic challenging video store.

I've only seen the first disc, but the amount of knowledge I'm now tossing about in terms of giant squids and the hunt for a live one is impressive.

Wednesday: Do The Right Thing (97)