Arts ©Entertainment
I
tan i tittii uie ueooie-jeeoies UKe in me
old days.
People just aren’t going to be scared
by reading about a crazed serial killer or
watching some guy with a razored glove
jump into the dreams of beautiful young
women when they can look out their
window and see mayhem and torture
that’s 10 times worse.
And there’s just no comparing mod
em horror writing with that of the past.
Even Stephen King can ’ t make you shake
like Edgar Allen Poe or H. P. Lovecraft.
Those guys just knew how to turn up
the volume on the quadraphonic speak
ers of terror.
Mayoe u s oecause mere are a lot
better treatments for mental illnesses
these days.
If Lovecraft would have been able to
get regular doses of lithium, he might
have written about pretty flowers and
beautiful sunsets instead of lurking fears
and the infamous Cthulu.
Recent horror movies are more likely
to make audiences laugh than recoil in
fear.
The level of believability has been
reduced by the ludicrous amounts of
blood and gore that directors seem to
think equates to fright.
Today’s hack-and-slash films just
can’t cut it.
Alfred Hitchcock managed to trap
and hold his audiences in sheer terror for
two hours or more (and often haunted
their nights for weeks).
Compare what he was able to do with
the much lower-tech special effects in
“The Birds” with John Carpenter’s “In
the Mouth of Madness.” There is no
comparison.
And it would take a billion Freddys
and Jasons to fill Anthony Perkins shoes’
in “Psycho.”
Every once in a while, we get to see a
modem gem like “Silence of the Lambs,”
but most of the time we have to settle
with exposed intestines and lackluster
acting.
Strauch Is a senior education major and a
Dally Nebraskan senior reporter.
Scott Bruhn/DN
The Flying Karamazov Brothers perform at the Lied Center Friday night.
Brothers blend comedy, jugglmg
By Joel Strauch
theater Critic ——
Unlike Feodor Dostoevski’s Brothers
Karamazov, who threw philosophical argu
ments between them, these Karamazov Broth
ers throw bowling pins, painful puns and
sharp insults at each other and the audience.
The internationally acclaimed brothers
(they are brothers, just not each others’)
balanced slapstick, parody and juggling al
most perfectly during their Friday-night per
formance at the Lied Center for Performing
Arts.
| The Karamazovs are
I Paul David Magid,
Michael Preston, Sam
Williams and Howard Jay
Patterson. They presented
a new show called “Club
I Sandwich,” a hilarious
| murder-mystery that spans
I the world and all the realms
I of comedy.
The Karamazovs had a
scripted plot, but they ventured far from any
script restrictions with their improvisation.
They poked fun at people from Omaha,
the Comnuskers and even the Lied Center
itself.
When someone brought the Lied pro
gram up to the stage, one of the brothers said
he didn’t want a publication from a from a
place that lied.
Hie horrible (and yet horribly funny) puns
were tossed back and forth atmost more than
juggled objects.
Sayings like, “make like a tree surgeon
and embark,” elicited head shaking and laugh
ter from the enthralled crowd.
But the show revolved around their amaz
ingjuggling feats. The Karamazovs juggled
by themselves, they juggled together, they
juggled while playing music — they even
juggled in the dark.
They were not perfect, but when they
dropped a pin, their quick wit made it more
entertaining than a flawless performance
would have been.
They also made it clear that they could
juggle and chew gum at the same time.
During one scene, two of the brothers
played a piece on a marimba while juggling,
singing, tap-dancing, playing harmonicas,
shaking bells on their hats — as well as
chewing gum.
The show really got going during the
perennial centerpiece of the Karamazovs’
performance called “The Gamble.”
During this act, the audience could bring
up objects for the character Professor Har
binger to juggle. These objects had to be
heavier than an ounce, lighter than ten pounds
and smaller than a breadbox.
Audience members who were familiar
with the Karamazovs came prepared with an
unbalanced array of items.
But not everybody followed the rules.
When someone brought up some transparen
cies, one of the brothers asked, “Haven’t you
seen an ounce before?” and one of his com
patriots replied, “They did, but they didn’t
inhale.”
Another audience member brought up a
boomerang and a Karamazov said, “What’s
the name of this? Wait, wait, it’ll come back
to me.”
After the audience voted by means of an
applause-o-meter, Harbinger had to attempt
to juggle an unbalanced ball with a bean bag
in it, a water balloon and a Nerf bow and
arrow.
He had three tries to juggle the three
objects for a count of 10. If he succeeded, he
earned a standing ovation, but if he failed, he
got a pie in the face.
As a tribute to his skill at juggling, his face
remained clean.
The Flying Karamazov Brothers provided
an evening of eye-boggling and side-split
ting entertainment. And a good time was had
by all.
Redneck tour rocks Pershing
»y uerry Benz
Concert Critic
The rednecks were out in force
Saturday night, and they were proud
of it.
They came out in droves and
packs to see JeffFoxworthy make a
stop at Pershing Auditorium for his
“You Might Be A Redneck If...”
tour, and the show was a near sell
out.
From the nosebleeder seats to
the chairs on the floor, nobody in
f Pershing could spit a wad of to
bacco juice without hitting a belt
buckle the size of a satellite dish.
The concert wasn’t limited to
the redneck population; many non
rednecks were around as well. No
matter what color a person’s neck
was, they could be heard quoting
any one of Foxworthy’s six books
on the way in to Pershing.
litne slogan bay NOto Crack
reminds you to pull up your pants,
you might be a redneck,” said one
lean, tall, cowboy-looking gentle
man, laughing loudly.
Whether a redneck or a blue
blood, Foxworthy was the ticket to
side-splitting laughter.
Although Foxworthy is possibly
most wel 1-known for his “You might
be a redneck if...” lines, those took
up only about five minutes of his
two-hour show. And he told those
at the beginning.
That was a wise move for two
reasons: On one hand, why recite
your books when the public can buy
them; and two, any idiot can get up
and recite jokes.
The rest of his show was de
voted to his redneck family,' his
wife and twodaughters and various
other slices of life.
It was hilarious.
Foxworthy interacted with the
audience a bit as well, regularly
talking to a couple of newlyweds in
the front row, using their experi
ences as segues into some of his
own material.
Foxworthy’s concert tour was
sponsored by Red Dog, and
Foxworthy talked about his involve
ment with designated-driver pro
grams, noting that the designated
driver has one of the worst jobs
imaginable, the baby sitter.
Foxworthy even made a couple
of potshots at the capital city, mak
ing note of his flight into “Lincoln
International Airport.”
Foxworthy’s opening act,
Mitch Mullany, was quite a hoot
as well. Again, he didn’t have any
really original material (differ
ences in sexes, pet problems, etc.),
but he still delivered quite a good
show.
Masquers’ one-acts
offer new, varied talent
By Kristin Armstrong
Theater Critic
Funnier than “Ace Ventura, Pet
Detective,” more pressing social
issues than “Melrose Place” and
better acting than an after-school
special.
All this for $2?
I had only one question after
watching the Masquers’ New
Plays Project Saturday night: Why
do people think they have to go to
the Lied to catch some primo act
ing when equal or better talent is
just across the street in the Studio
Theatre?
Each of these five one-act
plays, all written by students, was
entirely different in scope. The
plays could be seen as simple en
tertainment or a good laugh, but
hidden under the guise of the
clever humor lay poignant social
criticism.
The plays opened with “Why
Dream,” a play by Mayde
McGuire. It was the longest, and
certainly the best, of the bunch.
The plot centered on Jessie and
her husband, Mike, and their crum
bling marriage.
Jessie, a cynic portrayed strik
ingly by Julie Long, decides she is
tired of being ordered around by
her cheating sleazebag husband
(Gordon Bjorman), so she takes
off, telling the five dinner guests
at her table she is leaving to get
some of“that cheese” for the salad.
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