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Monday, January 16, 1995 Page 9
Reviewer gives
etiquette pointers
Since I started working as a Daily
Nebraskan movie reviewer in 1992, I
have gone to (approximately) umpteen
movies. I’ve witnessed some of the most
atrocious behavior I’ve ever seen in my
entire life in theaters (not counting home
football games).
Our politically correct society seems
overly worried about offending people.
But put someone in a dark movie theater,
and they seem to forget the meaning of
courtesy.
One of the worst violations is the
screaming child. The fault here lies not
with the child (unless he or she is un
chaperoned, which also happens too of
ten), but with the accompanying parent.
Parents often seem either too stubborn
or too stupid to realize other people in the
theater are trying to enjoy the film. No
one wants to listen to the child’s banshee
scream.
Possibly it is a baby screaming, or it
could be a toddler wailing because he or
she didn’t get a box of Junior Mints.
Whatever the reason, take the child out
of the auditorium to the lobby and deal
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Parents, please don’t sit there, hope it
will end quickly and continue to enjoy
the film at the rest of the audience’s
expense.
Then there are talkers. A little whis
pering during a film is common, almost
necessary. But bozos who talk at normal
levels during films should have their
tongues pierced with a paper punch.
Ah, I can’t leave out the slobs. Given
the high concession prices at movie the
aters, people often bring in their own
food and beverages, leaving their messes
for theater personnel.
True, theater concession prices are
high—although Lincoln prices are some
of the lowest I’ve seen in the nation. But
the mess left by outside food and drink is
inexcusable.
In general, people should be polite to
the people at the theater, including em
ployees. Those people usually are paid
minimum wage, and that isn’t enough to
for the duties of baby-sitter, maid and
emotional punching bag.
If you have a complaint or there is a
problem during a film (screaming chil
dren, drunks, etc.), immediately ask to
speak to a manager. Don’t wait until
afterward to say something about it. By
then, nothing can be done.
Beltz is a senior education maj or and a Daily
Nebraskan senior reporter.
Love comes to town
Jay Calderon/DN
B.B. King plays his black Gibson guitar, Lucille, Sunday night at the Lied Center for Performing Arts.
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King’s blues bring smiles to Lied crowd
By Matthew Waite
Senior Reporter
The person sitting next to me Sunday
night at the Lied Center for Performing Arts
said it best.
“Isn’t it funny, everyone is smiling and
B.B. is playing the blues,” she said.
In a world of digital guitars, digital key
boards and digital everything else, B.B.
„ King is none of that. There wasn’t a digital
anything on the Lied stage when King
walked out in his turquoise and gold tuxedo
jacket.
But there was a lot of heart and a lot of
love.
In fact, the packed Lied crowd witnessed
two lovers in the throes of passion.
Ah, love.
There is nothing more pure than King’s
love for Lucille, his black Gibson guitar.
Many times during his hour and a half
show, it was difficult to tell whether King was
playing Lucille, or Lucille was playing King.
Every note sang, and King’s face was a
mixture of joy and pain, the principal parts
of the blues. Lucille sang, and King knew all
the right places to make her do so.
But throughout the show, I couldn’t help
but think that King’s music was not espe
“Thank you for bringing the children out. I promise you I
won’t say or do anything on stage to embarrass you or your
family. ’’
■
B.B. KING
Blues musician
daily technical, or difficult or even that
deep. His guitar playing was simple.
His lyrics were not profound, by any
means.
“I ain’t sure what love is/But I sure got it
bad/I ain’t sure what love is/But baby, I sure
got it bad/Because whatever it is/It’s about
to drive me mad.”
But there is no one playing the blues
today that can play like B.B. King. There
are a precious few performers that can cleanse
your soul, make you cry, and force a smile
across your face like King can.
B.B. King is the king of the blues and is
a masterful entertainer at the same time. At
69 years of age, 45 years spent playing the
blues, King can still make an audience
laugh and dance without a care.
King used the audience as a 1 Oth member
to his nine piece band. In between two
songs, he walked to the edge of the stage to
give a young boy a guitar pick. He then
shook his hand.
“Thank you for bringing the children
out,” he said to the crowd. “I promise you I
won’t say or do anything on stage to embar
rass you or your family.”
Later in the show, King wished a happy
birthday to an audience member who was
turning 25. He then dedicated a song to her
and sang “Somebody really loves you/It’s
me.”
The world needs more people like B.B.
King.
•1
Paris ballet soars with traditional, modem styles
By Paula Lavigne
Senior Reporter
The Paris Opera Ballet blended contem
porary angles with classic curves Friday
night at the Lied Center for Performing
Arts, proving itself as a master of modem
and traditional ballet.
The company’s classic pieces, with the
magic of pirouettes and pas de deuxes, espe
cially enchanted the Lied audience.
Their first piece, “Three Preludes,” fea
tured dancers Elisabeth Platel and Laurent
Novis clad in white against a white back
ground under a solitary spotlight.
The two were isolated in one comer of
the stage near a portable bar. The subdued
darkness and the musical serenity added to
the dancers’ physical chemistry.
The dancers moved like two marionettes
in perfect syncopation. Shining as a single
dancer is easier than working with a part
ner, but Platel and Novis made their ro
mance convincing.
“Notre Dame in Paris,” set to music by
Maurice Jarre, was haunting and compel
ling. Dancer Kader Belarbi became the
hunchback of Notre Dame with angular,
broken arm movements.
He sluggishly pulled himself across the
stage, transmitting his pain and emotional
anguish. Belarbi, with dancer Isabelle
Guerin, told the hunchback’s tragic tale by
combining acting and dance.
It was interesting how each piece man
aged to tell a tale—hence the opera part of
the ballet—by combining acting and dance
techniques.
The up-tempo “Suite from Act III” of
“Don Quixote” told a happier tale. Dancers
in bright, flamenco-style costumes twirled
onto the stage.
“In the Middle of Somewhat Elevated,” the
final piece, exposed a skeleton stage with
visible concrete walls and track lighting.
It was similar to some of the Joffrey
Ballet’s “Billboards,” where dancers ap
peared in a relaxed, almost rehearsal-like
mode.
During “In the Middle,” dancers dis
played exquisite gymnastic and athletic abil
ity, but the piece never seemed to climax. A
few audience members were visibly bored.
The style of dance used in this piece was
new, and it may take awhile for a choreog
raphers to make the style more visibly stimu
lating. It seems to still be in the experimen
tal, raw stage.
“In the Middle” was the exception to the
ballet’s captivating rule.
The Paris Opera Ballet, with its roots
dating back to the reign of King Louis XIV,
has given a fresh beauty to classical dance
by keeping it controlled, yet exciting.
