by Cory Tracy

Hot shows, cold nights

Winter weather invites domestic introspection and the hibernation of licentious desire, so that we may better nurse from the nip of bitter mystery. Despite this seasonal call to passivity, our culture has infused the month of December with frenzy and turned it from a time to hunker down and stay home into a never-ending parade of parties and commerce.

Sure, I like being lazy, but social whore that I am, I also got out of the house. I saw the latest incarnation of Murder on the Orient Express and Star Wars: The Last Jedi. I went to the Nick with my friends Reggie Groff and Jane Courcy to see Murder on the Orient Express. The movie was pretty damn good, but Kenneth Branagh’s characterization of Hercule Poirot’s moustache was distractingly enthusiastic and needed to simmer down a little. Also, the very last scene left me with question marks orbiting my head. The loose ends are all tied up and our hero Poirot is being driven away to his next adventure in a convertible. They are in the freezing mountains in winter — why did the director have them drive away in a convertible? I’m sure there was a reason, but I can’t figure it out (I am no Poirot).

I saw The Last Jedi at Cinemagic Westbrook with my friends Doug Neugebauer, Michael Baumgardner, Mandy Lacourse and Amalia Guettinger. It was a fun little distraction, but I thought the real news was how certain alt-right crybabies reacted. People of a certain mindset are just convinced that the world is out to get them and that they are being shit on no matter how banal the offense. These dust bunnies were offended by the fact the movie had heroes who weren’t white males. The fragile alt-righters saw that as a battle cry against their cherished delusions. Grow up — it’s fucking Star Wars, for frig’s sake! Besides, I liked having one of my ancient fetishes reawakened by the appearance of a cute, Asian lead character.

On December 15th I saw The Fogcutters’ Christmas Spectacular at the State Theatre. The band played a sassy mix of holiday-themed diversions that combined sexiness, comedy, and an appreciation for life’s invisible gifts.

The next day, I went to the fourth annual Pdank Xmas show at Aura. Spose had out-of-town musical guests Token and Mac Lethal, plus lots of locals, including Shane Reisinger, Cam Groves, Kristina Kentigian, Sarah Violette and Mike Be. Rustic Overtones performed a couple songs. Aura runs a pretty tight ship, but my nose told me that someone managed to sneak a little weed into the show. Spose’s crowds tend toward the younger side, but they brought a contagious enthusiasm and energy.

Reggie Groff and I meet for chess on Sunday nights at Congress Bar & Grill, but I requested an exception on the 17^th so I could check out Colleen Clark’s annual Christmas musical-variety show at Blue. I got there at 6 p.m., when it started, and the place was already packed to the gills. I usually enjoy a sense of relaxation and dimly lit sophistication at Blue, but on this Sunday the venue and the perpetual stream of new arrivals were both well lit! After about a half hour of people tripping over my always awkward wheelchair, I called it quits and told Reggie I would meet him at CB&G.

The following Thursday I went to see the father-and-son team of Phil and Lyle Divinsky cast musical spells at Blue, but when I poked my head in the door, the room was like a scene from a movie about the world turning into an overpopulated dystopia, so I didn’t even try to stuff myself into that boiling kettle of flesh. Instead I went to Portland House of Music to see Sean Slaughter tackle the challenge of covering AC/DC with a tribute show called A Long Way to the Top. I grew up in Biddeford and the people of my clan were maniacal about WBLM, so I have an appreciation for the band’s foundational role in the rock zeitgeist. The first song they covered was “Problem Child,” and Sean dedicated it to me, despite my famously Puritanical manias. Sean also had Tim Boyden handle some vocals. It was refreshing to be among such connoisseurs.

Even though I’m a scar-breathed scalawag with shifty eyes and shitty legs, I enjoy the rewards of a life well lived. Happy New Year, smash the state, and may The Force be with you!