by Jason Kurylo I'll admit, having this production come to Vancouver is a good thing, a good sign. It’s one of the biggest things in years to happen to Broadway, for pete’s sake, let alone the Vancouver theatre scene. And the stellar cast leaves nothing to the imagination. Chita Rivera is a Broadway leg- end, having pretty much built the New York theatre scene single...um...leggedly. Jeff Hyslop is the remarkable local-boy-done-good story; from Vancouver, this phenom has be- come one of the biggest names in stage today. John Dossett, while not a house- hold name, is also a pretty good catch. Add in the legendary Spider-staging and lighting, and we’re in for a pressure- cooker of a show, right? ope. Unfortunately, the whole rigamarole has relied on the staging anc lighting. Right from the start. The mu- sical score, courtesy of John Kander, Fred Ebb. tries to do some’ or things, using sharp-keys and augmented fourth chords*but they just relays mo yes (There’s@ reason they arent used more (a! cher SOM Tees) cs erie Cie Bis taerres ven ieny rai: ptt Aten eme) two, you're tf trouble. Kiss is in trou- 1a) tan al Allan Holdsworth Group is Giles Pres The story is serviceable, for sure. Adapted from Manuel Puig’s novel of the same name, Kiss gives us Molina (Hyslop) and Valentin (Dossett), two very different men trapped in a small prison cell. Molina has a bizarre ob- session with 40s movie starlet Aurora (Rivera). We see many of Aurora’s movie roles via Molina’s visions and dreams; this is how we meet the Spi- der Woman, whose kiss means death and whose embrace means a lot of mediocre dance numbers. All of which brings me to... (I’m gonna get shot for this one.) It’s remarkable that Rivera can move the way she does. She’s 62, you know, and she can outmove ninety, maybe ninety-five per cent of the kids down at Forest Lawns... However, if YOU Paeit() be resume, she the night muttering, “Wow, I hope I have half her movement when I’m that age... Hell, I wish I had a quarter of her move- ment now...” She’s always been an amazing performer, and the longevity makes Chita that much more impressive. Unfortunately, dancing with performers one-third her age, she looks a little out of place. Hyslop, conversely, is more at home here than. anywhere I’ve seen him. The outlandish Molina sets Hyslop free. Here, he can perform. The only prob- lem with his role is, there isn’t nearly enough of him; Jeff makes the night worthwhile. “Oh, sure, it’s easy to back the hometown boy,” right? Well, this ain’t no Vancouver happy happy joy joy club. The fact is, Hyslop is nothing short of brilliant. If you’re a theatre buff, try to catch wouldn't get this part. ee nonstop rollercoaster Sick chops oversaturate ears by Kevin Sallows Allan Holdsworth is just sick. His technique is sick, his band is sick, his music is sick... I mean, if you wanted to see some serious chops, I'm talking beyond any sane limits of technical pro- ficiency, the Commodore was the place to be Wednesday June 28. While I'm sure the show wasn't intended to exclusively be a high notes- per-second affair, I was feeling a tad oversaturated by evening's end. Half the thrill of modern fusion seems to be the sheer technical virtuosity that has come to be associated with it. And these boys can play. Holdsworth makes Joe Satriani look like a lost child playing a plastic Mickey Mouse guitar. So why did I leave this much-an- ticipated show feeling somewhat empty after such a feast of music? My mom comes to mind. A remarkable woman: vibrant, ex- citing, with a contagious enthusiasm and the ability to speak volumes while saying nothing (no apologies here, she'd be the first to admit it.) Holdsworth is one of the most impressive guitarists on the planet, but his made-a-deal-with- the-devil-down-at-the-crossroads tech- nique doesn't move me. Just as bebop did in the 40s and 50s, fusion (hardcore fusion, not the watered-down fuzak of Spyro Gyra or much of Pat Metheny's work) alienates most of the public with its "we're from another planet" aesthetic. This is prob- ably fine with the true fans because it means they get to see a world-class band in a small venue. And the true fans were out in force. One of the highlights of the evening for me was the rush for the stage just prior to the Holdsworth Group's set. Picture 100-200 fusion-heads, yuppies and gui- tar freaks scuttling forward, chairs in hand, repositioning themselves com- fortably where the pit would normally be churning away at an average Com- modore show. (Highlight #2 would have to be the daring interpretive fu- sion dancer I spotted late in the show. Even the most angular, disjointed rhythms couldn't stop her from shakin' it up.) Seated they were, reserved they were not. There was a tense buzz of excitement and expectation in the air and Holdsworth himself seemed over- whelmed by the rock n' roll enthusi- asm of the crowd. When the band did slow down, it was a beautiful thing. The atmosphere and feel they created during the slower compositions were reminders that fu- sion need not be a soulless riff-fest. Sadly, this show was reminiscent of a really cool rollercoaster. It was a tush the first few rides, but after about an hour of nearly nonstop speed I found myself wanting to get off for a WuZ Victoria trio Loose opened for the Allan Holdsworth Group, com- bining Chili Peppers Freakey Styley-era rap with upright bass, unstoppable grooves, and some cool experimental sounding guitar work. These funk-rock jazzkins displayed LOOSCH UP a hilarious sense of humour and, HOLY SHIT!!!, an original style culled from diverse influences. They get points for a song title which goes something like (correct me if I'm wrong), "If You Dance _ the Bolero. Darkness will Fall Upon the Land," and, yes, it does include an ex- Toy eS cerpt from Ravel's Bolero. Keep your eyes skinned and your ears peeled for more noise on these guysinthefuture, Kiss for the impressive sets. and-c c, Jefe If you're not. save your cash bug cele bca. 3 Mitchell wears a Vancouver Kim Mitchell at the Commodore Ballroom Saturday, July 8 by Paul Andrew Someone recently concluded that because of all the alternative, under- ground, and grunge music being re- corded these days, music we once knew simply as ‘rock ‘n’ roll was dead. I bet the person who said that had never been to a Kim Mitchell concert. What’s wrong with commercially accessible music anyway? Some ardent music fans may grow tired of radio friendly tunes, but there’s nothing bet- ter than going to a concert where you can at least recognize the melody and lyrics to songs you don’t really know the title of. Mitchell has that kind of music. You may not know what the song is called, but it sounds familiar as soon as you hear it. And on Saturday night at the Com- modore, no one was complaining about the lack of new songs or the inclusion of every top ten hit Kim Mitchell has ever recorded. With the exception of two new songs that are included on Mitchell’s recently released “Greatest Hits” CD, it was strictly goin’ for Soda, drinking Lager and Ale, and discover- ing the magic created by Patio Lanterns for the thirty-something crowd packed on to the spring-loaded dance floor at the landmark Ballroom off Granville Street Mall. No mosh-pit, no slam danc- ing, no stage diving. This was a reminder of what rock concerts used to be like before the mid-eighties alternative crowds introduced us to concert gym- happy face for concert nastics. Mitchell seemed like he could do nothing wrong for this crowd of shiny, happy people. As he commented at one point during the show, “There’s noth- ing like a great crowd of people to make us fee] at home." Maybe he says that to every crowd, but Mitchell sounded genuinely sincere. Wearing his signa- ture baseball cap over greying, fly-away hair, Mitchell couldn’t stop smiling and goofing around on stage. He also proved to be human on one of the very few new songs he played on Saturday night. Half-way through the opening bars to a tune called Rainbow, Mitchell fluffed on a particularly diffi- cult chord. After he stopped the song three times, and started it again, he fi- nally got it right. And on went the show. That was the only glitch in an oth- erwise flawless concert by this power trio that is called the Kim Mitchell band. He had no difficulty filling up a con- cert hall with the sound of only one guitar, one bass player, and one drum- mer. A rare sight these days indeed. Of course, the added bonus of excellent harmony vocals on every tune provided by perenial sidekick Peter Fredette on bass, and lead vocals for the all-time classic All we are, helped give versatil- ity when none was really needed. Kim Mitchell picked up where Max Webster left off. A Canadian band that has very seldom disappointed live music fans.A band that seems comfort- able playing out its days to modest, en- thusiastic crowds eager to hear no-non- sense rock n' roll.