LAKEPORT, Calif. – The GenX Cinema series presents the 1986 sci-fi fantasy “Labyrinth” on Wednesday, Nov. 1, at 7 p.m. at the Soper Reese Theatre in Lakeport.

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Joseph Hutchison has been writing good poems for more than 40 years, and I have been reading them for just that long.

He lives in Colorado, where he is the state Poet Laureate, and his latest book, “The World As Is: New & Selected Poems,” has just come out from New York Quarterly Books.

Here's a father's poem from that fine collection.

Lifting My Daughter

As I leave for work she holds out her arms, and I
bend to lift her . . . always heavier than I remember,
because in my mind she is still that seedling bough
I used to cradle in one elbow. Her hug is honest,
fierce, forgiving. I think of Oregon's coastal pines,
wind-bent even on quiet days; they've grown in ways
the Pacific breeze has blown them all their lives.
And how will my daughter grow? Last night, I dreamed
of a mid-ocean gale, a howl among writhing waterspouts;
I don't know what it meant, or if it's still distant,
or already here. I know only how I hug my daughter,
my arms grown taut with the thought of that wind.

American Life in Poetry does not accept unsolicited submissions. It is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by Joseph Hutchison, “Lifting My Daughter,” from The World As Is: New & Selected Poems, 1972-2015, (New York Quarterly Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Joseph Hutchison and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

HAPPY DEATH DAY (Rated PG-13)

For a horror film where the main protagonist finds that her life has turned into one continuous loop until killer issues are settled, the comparison to the Bill Murray film “Groundhog Day” is not only inevitable but central to plot resolution.

But there’s more to it than that since our main character is at the surface a self-centered and on the whole unpleasant sorority girl who blissfully moves through collegiate life as if she were more likely a member of the outcast fraternity in “Animal House.”

A resolute party animal, Jessica Rothe’s Theresa Gelbman, going by the nickname of Tree, wakes up one morning, in the dorm room of nice guy Carter (Israel Broussard), hung over and thinking she’s just experienced another unfortunate one-night stand.

At this moment, Tree shifts into the “Mean Girls” mode akin to the Lindsay Lohan persona, acting rude to sorority sisters, ignoring the plea of a campus activist, blowing off a guy for asking why she’s not answered his texts, and then shamelessly pursuing an affair with a married teacher.

It doesn’t even take Tree a full day of boorish behavior to establish that she’s not likely to be crowned Miss Congeniality at the next homecoming. No wonder some mystery person wearing a clownish baby face mask stalks her in a dark tunnel before committing homicide.

Like clockwork, Tree wakes up the next morning once again in Carter’s room, knowing where he keeps the Tylenol and wondering what level of Dante’s Inferno she’s just fallen into.

To make matters worse, she ponders the dilemma of extricating herself from the embarrassment of having to relive the same day over again, which is complicated by the fact that it’s her actual birthday and her estranged father keeps ringing her cell phone.

Realizing that her life is turning into one truly annoying “reset” scenario, Tree begins to treat each day to slight variations in her daily pattern, beginning with blithe treatment of roommate Lori (Ruby Modine), who resents Tree’s cavalier attitude to life in general.

Fellow sorority sister Lori, irritatingly judgmental, is not the only Greek member with whom her encounters are bad-mannered.

Tree resents house president Danielle (Rachel Matthews) for being critical of her less-than-sisterly attitude to others.

Condemned to relive the same day over and over again until she figures out who wants her dead, Tree is put through the usual paces of a horror film, with all of the standard tropes of false scares and red herrings.

“Happy Death Day,” while tied so closely to “Groundhog Day” that one character even mentions this Bill Murray film, has much in common with the “Scream” franchise in that the comedic element is crucial.

This film is geared to a certain demographic, and it is likely to pay off dividends at the box office. 



‘Loudermilk’ on Audience Network

The new comedy series “Loudermilk” on the Audience Network is sustained, in large measure, by the impertinent persona that Ron Livingston so adeptly created when he was corporate drone Peter Gibbons hating his soul-killing job in “Office Space.”

Livingston’s Sam Loudermilk, a former Seattle rock journalist with several books to his credit, is now a cynical substance abuse counselor who holds group meetings at a local Catholic community center where he constantly runs afoul of Father Michael (Eric Keenleyside).

As a recovering alcoholic, Loudermilk has an extremely bad attitude about, well, everything. He speaks with no filter and manages to upset just about everyone in his life. In a way, he has a lot in common with Louis C.K.’s character in “Louie.”

Threatened by Father Michael to lose his meeting place for the therapy group, Loudermilk reluctantly agrees to help the drug and alcohol-addicted Claire (Anja Savcic), daughter of a wealthy widow who forms an instant dislike for the substance abuse counselor.

Spiraling out of control as a result of recently losing her father, Claire is a hard case whose attitude is even more dour and pessimistic than Loudermilk’s, leading her to butt heads with the counselor as he pushes hard to enforce sobriety rules.

Loudermilk shares his apartment with his addiction sponsor Ben Barnes (Will Sasso), who’s got demons of his own that he’s finding harder and harder to hide, leading to some bad decisions that more often than not cause a few problems for Loudermilk.

Meanwhile, Allison Montgomery (Laura Mennell), a recent transplant to Seattle moves in next door to Loudermilk, and there are some romantic sparks between the two of them, but somehow Loudermilk manages to upset her almost daily, either accidentally or seemingly on purpose.

“Loudermilk,” fittingly belongs on cable television, where uncensored words and deeds never have to be held in check because of broadcast standards. A script that is partly the handiwork of one of the Farrelly brothers sees to it.

“Loudermilk” focuses on characters as the driving element of comedy, and the payoff is quite good in nicely realized dialogue, particularly for Ron Livingston.

Tim Riley writes television and film reviews for Lake County News.

MIDDLETOWN, Calif. – “Witnessing,” the current exhibit at Middletown Art Center, is a visual tale of devastation, resilience and ongoing recovery.

With anniversaries of the fires of 2015 and 2016 just behind us, devastation from the Sulphur fire and pervasive regional fires and a week of evacuation alert in south county make the show all the more poignant.

Witnessing on view through Oct. 22 at MAC, is highly relevant and recommended.

The exhibition speaks to the trauma of those impacted by wildfires in Lake County and to the journey of overcoming personal struggle and healing.

There is power in both making and in viewing art. Art gives form and voice to feelings and insights. We identify with and are moved by expressions of the human experience through image, line, shape, color, texture, and materials.

Local artist and founder of EcoArts of Lake County, Karen Turcotte, reminds us that “Destruction takes no thought at all. Creation however, is from the heart, the mind, the hand and the soul.” Words to live by. This is exactly what the artists have done.

Sage Abella, creator of “Fire Godd and the Phoenix,” a 3-foot by 3-foot acrylic on canvas painting done two years post-fire, draws us into the chaos and colors of the fire.

Rendered in a primitive, “magical realism” style, the artist utilizes complementary warm and cool colors to speak of the two opposite yet somehow reciprocal presences of the “Fire Godd and the Phoenix,” fire and water, dry and wet.

Abella takes us through her personal journey with the Valley fire, from emergence on Cobb Mountain, to witnessing wild turkeys, rattlesnakes, deer, and other creatures’ flight from fire and ascent to the heavens.

She evacuated four times in 2015 and 2016 as her home is located between Jerusalem Grade and Lower Lake. While unscathed by fire, the landscape that surrounds her home certainly has changed.

“Fire Angel #2” is a moving piece by Ben vanSteenburgh III, and one of two acrylic and ink Fire Angels on view. It offers us a benign and winged young angel alone in her reverie, sitting with her knees gathered up to her chest as an unchecked blaze consumes a faraway landscape across a lake calm as glass. It is only the lake, however, that reflects the emotionless furor of the unchecked blaze.

The composition, primarily rendered in tints and shades of orange and yellow, seems to emit light and heat. Somehow, it is oddly comforting, perhaps a nod to ‘impermanence’.

Marcus Maria Jung’s “Dance of Creation, Destruction and Rebirth” is actually made from the devastation of the wildfires, rather than about them.

Using fire-ravaged manzanita, the artist has created a veritable dance between three charred trunk sections, swaying in gentle relationship to one another. Jung has lovingly smoothed the bark in such a way as to invite touch, and he has brought about a rebirth of the fire-forged Manzanita by transforming it into sculpture.

There are many other poignant pieces in this exhibit. Ceramicist Melanie Liotta’s impressive mosaic “Survivor” depicts a rooster crowing the break of a new day. It is comprised of shards of pottery retrieved from the Valley fire.

Also not to be missed is Alana Clearlake’s “Dreaming of Hope” – a masterful and stunningly colorful handmade felt painting of a landscape on fire with elements of regrowth and water.

Several works made by artists during Resilience classes are also featured in the show.

Come experience the Witnessing exhibition, on view at Middletown Art Center until Oct. 22.

MAC is located at 21456 State Highway 175 at the junction of Highway 29 and open Thursday from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., Friday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m., Saturday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Visit MAC online at www.middletownartcenter.org or call 707-809-8118 for more information.

MIDDLETOWN, Calif. – This weekend at Middletown Art Center, or MAC, artists Sage Abella and Lisa Kaplan offer the community opportunity to process the stress of being on fire alert through a painting and mixed media approach to visual expression.

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Here's a beautiful poem evoking a vivid memory by David Mason, who teaches at Colorado College and has served his state as poet laureate.

There's not one extra word in this, and every word – with that word's singular music – is set in the perfect position.

This poem is from his forthcoming book, “The Sound: New and Selected Poems” (Red Hen Press, 2018).

Mending Time

The fence was down. Out among humid smells
and shrill cicadas we walked, the lichened trunks
moon-blue, our faces blue and our hands.

Led by their bellwether bellies, the sheep
had toddled astray. The neighbor farmer's woods
or coyotes might have got them, or the far road.

I remember the night, the moon-colored grass
we waded through to look for them, the oaks
tangled and dark, like starting a story midway.

We gazed over seed heads to the barn
toppled in the homestead orchard. Then we saw
the weather of white wool, a cloud in the blue

moving without sound as if charmed
by the moon beholding them out of bounds.
Time has not tightened the wire or righted the barn.

The unpruned orchard rots in its meadow
and the story unravels, the sunlight creeping back
like a song with nobody left to hear it.

American Life in Poetry does not accept unsolicited manuscripts. It is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by David Mason, “Mending Time,” from The Sound: New and Selected Poems, (Red Hen Press, forthcoming in 2018). Poem reprinted by permission of David Mason and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.