Everybody wants to be a St. Louisan: We all know the movie reviews you publish are forced upon you by the hive mind of New Times Inc., so imagine my surprise when I read this line in Luke Y. Thompson's April 20 review of The Game of Their Lives: "Most pleased will be proud St. Louisans: Our city gets name-dropped approximately once a minute, as most of the 1950 U.S. World Cup team consisted of Italian-Americans from the Hill."
Has Thompson relocated to St. Louis? His bio on rottentomatoes.com lists his location as Hollywood, but they must be mistaken. There it is, plain as Sunday -- Thompson writing "our city." Mark this day on the calendar: The RFT, taken by the spirit of the world premiere of Game, couldn't pass up the opportunity to let a local writer cover the film from the eyes of our community.
Uh, sure. Except that same review went out across the country with "our city" replaced with "the city." Because you can't have your readers knowing that one of the biggest stories in local cinema was covered from an office in LA. As usual, your paper is worth every penny.
A fine human being: I had the privilege and honor of presenting a mayoral proclamation to the late Johnnie Johnson on his 80th birthday at the Missouri Botanical Garden in August 2004 before 17,000 people [Roy Kasten, "Hail! Hail! Rock & Roll," April 20]. He certainly will be missed as a fine human being and one of the greatest musicians that ever lived.
Irv B. Mestman
But who doesn't like to see pretty boys take off their shirts? Puh-leez! Have you seen any of Chris Jackson's productions [Paul Friswold, "Welcome to the Cabaret," April 13]? The last thing an audience member needs to enjoy a CJ production is maturity. His cabarets are merely regurgitations of his previously produced "musical" that, quite frankly, are usually crap. Although Mr. Jackson does contain some level of talent as a pianist, his scores, lyrics and books are pitiful. The plot is always a half-baked, non-collaborated, trite tale with no agenda other than seeing pretty boys take their shirts off.
Cabaret is still alive in this town, but skip this one unless you too are an undersexed fortysomething that still lives with his mother -- that is Chris Jackson's "mature" audience.
Name withheld by request
Jesus Letter of the Week
The almost-atheist pagan perspective: I would love to tell that self-righteous Christian Ashley Smith where to go, and if she reads her Bible she'd know women are not going to Heaven [Letters, April 20]. It's a boy's club if you read Revelations all the way through.
I am an almost-atheist leaving paganism. I am offended at all times by people like that. One funny bit on a Web page is nothing compared to having God pushed down your throat at every moment. It is on money, on TV, on the radio, in the laws of my country (gay marriage ban, Terri Schiavo). As a pagan, there were blatant witch caricatures that are harmless in the eyes of everyone else. I mean, wake up, Ashley: You're a hypocritical b***h. I am sure you have no idea what a real insult is. If you want respect, try giving some. I think it's time you get what us nonbelievers do for a change.
Leave me unsigned, as I fear physical attacks from Christian Reichers.
Name withheld by request
Last week in Luke Y. Thompson's review of The Game of Their Lives, we bungled the name of actor Terry Kinney, who portrays a young reporter who covers the 1950 World Cup.
Additionally, we supplied the wrong phone number atop Rose Martelli's review of Los Catrachos on Cherokee Street. The correct phone number is 314-773-5151.
Riverfront Times has an immediate opening for a full-time music editor. This position entails planning and editing the weekly music section, writing feature stories and a weekly column and working with freelance writers. Qualified candidates will have strong writing and organizational skills and will be well-versed in rap, hip-hop, DJ/dance and indie rock. An editing test is part of the interview process. Applicants should send a cover letter, résumé and five best clips to:
Tom Finkel, editor
6358 Delmar Boulevard, Suite 200
St. Louis, MO 63130
(No phone inquiries or singing voicemails, please.)