Author Archives: Heather Regen
Watching Katniss Everdeen raise her bow in defiance to the Capitol emboldened me to make a heretical statement of my own—The Hunger Games movie is better than the book. While author Suzanne Collins wove intricate themes of class struggle, civil war, and even counterinsurgency strategy into her trilogy, The Hunger Games movie conveys with complex cinematography and precise casting what prose marketed to eleven-year-olds could not.
Even if you haven’t taken high school Latin, Unum, a new addition to the D.C. dining scene, makes its esoteric name clear from dish one. While E Pluribus Unum—“out of many, one”—might be the nation’s de facto motto, every course at this M Street restaurant takes the mantra to heart.
“I was high as heck and I just wanted to love things.” Channeling a well-intentioned hippie at the beginning of the production, it’s a shock to see Addison Williams (COL ’14) morph into a sociopathic killer in the span of a few short hours. Yet Nomadic Theatre’s Night of One-Act Plays encourages this kind of versatility. While he plays the lovable Truman in John Behlmann’s Un-f**king-Believable, Williams casts off the character to take on a darker role in Neil LaBute’s Coax. Brought together on a sparse stage, the plays in Nomadic’s Night of One-Acts don’t sync together intuitively, but they combine to provide the audience with a wonderful range of theatre.
With smoking ashtrays and half-empty whiskey glasses littering the set, it would hardly seem shocking if Don Draper strode across the stage for The Deep Blue Sea. A dark domestic drama set in post-war England, The Deep Blue Sea gains its strength through a meticulous attention to detail.
If Leo’s orange-frosted pound cake hasn’t gotten you into the Halloween spirit yet, don’t worry. From embassies to theme parks, D.C. offers plenty of chances to don a costume and forget about those last few midterms for the weekend.
A musical number set on a flaming oil rig and a sober reflection on the Egyptian revolution, united on the same stage on the same evening? That’s this year’s Donn B. Murphy One Acts Festival. The festival’s two productions, Peaches and Freon and #Courage, are an unusual combination, but together they show off the strength of original student work at Georgetown.
Don’t panic—seriously. In Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion, the CDC proves to handle a horrifying killer virus with blockbuster-defying competence. The lab researchers deftly work towards a vaccine, the World Health Organization pinpoints the source of origin with ease, and only Congress appears to fail miserably in its attempt to convene over Skype.
As soon as students step foot on campus, Avocado Cafe and its delivery-food rivals make it their mission to litter the school with menus. New to Georgetown, Eat & Joy hasn’t missed out on the race to inundate the lobby of New South with its pamphlets, calling out to Leo’s-weary freshmen who need to stock up on CampusFood.com points.
A few years back, panic abounded when Firestone tires began spontaneously exploding, causing severe injuries to drivers. To most people, this is the extent to which tires can be seen as frightening, life-threatening entities. But most people are not director Quentin Dupieux, who apparently thinks that the malice of tires goes far beyond some technical malfunction. Rather, he takes a bold, completely absurd look at the killing possibilities of this common piece of auto equipment—he makes a villain out of a cold-blooded, murderous rubber tire.
The location of HERE, Rosslyn’s newest restaurant, feels as organic as its menu’s hand-cut fries. Nestled naturally into the main floor of urban art center Artisphere, its tables spread out from the bar opposite the venue’s ballroom. The idea of integrating a restaurant into Artisphere was one that excited Mike Tuson, HERE’s head chef. “[The surrounding galleries] really centered the space,” he said. Yet for the art center, HERE’s opening has created quite the opposite effect—though exhibitions may frame the restaurant, HERE has finally anchored Artisphere. Where the ballroom, theatre and galleries once orbited around an awkward space cluttered with empty couches, they now have a gravitational center.