I’ve made a pretty concerted effort to track down theatre options since moving to D.C. from Chicago about a year ago. We caught the “Ethereal Encounters” shorts at the Source Festival, Laura Marks’ “Bethany” at City Center in Manhattan and two shows from the current season at Woolly Mammoth downtown. The morning I rode the bus out to O’Hare to pick up my rental van to come here, I actually had the pleasure of sitting next to one of my favorite cast members from Chicago’s Neo-Futurists. We swapped some perspectives on Chicago vs. D.C. topics, and she recommended putting Woolly on my list after I got settled.

Admittedly, I waited most of the year before finally getting tickets, but “The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity” was about everything a theatre junkie with a ingrained fondess for professional wrestling tropes could ask for. The play introduced a season of shows that frame cultural perspectives in situations of conflict with larger power structures, and on Saturday afternoon we sat down for another installment in the series—Danai Gurira’s “The Convert.”

Gurira, of course, is already, an accomplished playwright, but as a Robert Kirkman reader and “Walking Dead” watcher, I knew her work best from her role as Michonne on AMC.

Director Michael John Garces did a tremendous job staging this show on Misha Kachman’s set. Crosses appear all over and within one another in the shapes, and the protruding plank into the audience provides some well-constructed depth and emotional weight to the play’s key moments.

A few of the casting choices were stronger than others, but the outpouring of soulful earnestness from actress Nancy Moricette, the visible internal conflict exhibited by actor Irungu Mutu, and a spectacularly understated and complex character performance by Dawn Ursula leave lasting impressions to walk away with.

It’s a play that uses blood and emotion to make its case in an indictment against colonialism—which I get. For me what this play did even more importantly, however, was to articulate the way familial and ancestral relationships were reconstructed for converts by Catholicism as a part of an over-arching forced integration of materialist and capitalist value systems that along with missionary work gave occupying sources their own narrative for justifying control over land and natural resources. In that respect, I didn’t encounter anything new or revelatory about the whats or whys of colonialism in “The Convert,” but the play did get under the skin of the hows and whos.

As a whole, I’d be interested in seeing a reworked version of the show if it ever goes through some editing and rewrites, particularly in the third act. There were some moments in the climactic exchanges where the actors’ emotions seemed to lack framework within the script to express what they were really feeling, and given their obvious physical acting talents that were present throughout the rest of the show, I left with the impression that something about what was going on could have been staged or better scripted to refine what was being communicated.

Nevertheless, it was a moving play. I have some reservations about Mike Daisey and will likely skip the next production at Woolly Mammoth, but I’ll definitely be back eventually.

• Ezra Claytan Daniels’s serialized Upgrade Soul comic on iPad: Andrew Hayward clued me into this one via his review at Mac|Life. It’s a slightly animated multimedia version of a comic with surreal and sci-fi elements, and it makes much better use of its medium that most other motion comics or similar narrative presentations that you’ve probably run into. I recommended trying an issue and seeing if it’s to your liking.
• Girls is back on at HBO, and I’m caught up with the first two episodes of Season 2 as of today. It’s interesting that show dived right into responding to last season’s race criticism by introducing Donald Glover’s new character Sandy. Nevertheless, it’s been a pretty shallow response as far as the writing goes. Their upping the ante as far as Adam’s creep factor goes, but right now this is still a show my heart’s only about half into whenever it’s on.
• It started reading George R.R. Martin’s A Feast for Crows, and was quickly steered toward reading the book simultaneously with A Dance with Dragons by Sean T. Collins. I’m reading Sean’s chapter remix sequence at the moment, and it feels very natural. Also, I think this is the approach that any real Tyrion lover should take, based on what I’ve seen so far.
• For $2.99, the new Archaia take on Shotaro Ishinomori’s Cyborg 009 was a pleasant digital surprise. I picked up issue #0 from comiXology, not realizing that the new comic came with 60 pages of the original manga packed into the file as well. I’ll definitely be with this one for at least a few issues, but both the old and new material were a steal for the price.

This is just a beginning-of-the-year signal check to let you know I’m still blogging out of Washington, D.C. If you’re one of a handful of people I’ve bumped into online or off in the last few months, I’m still running the editorial department over at Industry Dive. (Check out Education Dive, Food Dive and Utility Dive, among our many other sites to see what that involves.)

I’ll still be here, as well as on Twitter and Google+ in 2013, writing about some other things, though, so keep an eye out. As always, thanks for reading.

As you can see on Flickr, we crafted a “Gangnam Style” PSY pumpkin this year—and just in time for his re-aired appearance on Saturday Night Live tonight, though that was completely coincidental.

It’s barely visible from the street, but I think we’ve got the only jack-o-lantern in the whole building, so it it does stand out at night as a tiny pair of illuminated sunglasses with a bow tie.

Here he is with the lights out.

“Wizzywig” follows the social and intellectual growth of a young man named Kevin Phenicle. Piskor’s take on the character, who goes by the handle “Boingthump,” is simple and brisk in its pace. The kid has a Tintin-like face in a world of slimy, unfriendly people who don’t understand his curiosities and motivations. Ultimately, the story leverages that condition to frame Kevin’s incarceration and the media-promoted fear that he inspires in the general public through his hacking. And the book winds up feeling full and balanced at the end as a result—littered with jargon and touchstones from the time, such as phreaking and bulletin board systems.

Piskor doesn’t waste a beat in “Wizzywig.” It’s not a graphic novel that cares a great deal about exploring the inner feelings and emotional connections between its cast members. Instead, the story unfolds a arms’ length from the reader, inviting questions and disgust as characters affected by Boingthump’s action sound off in panels and on TV about what they think he must be like. The whole book is set up to juxtapose Kevin’s life against that shrill chorus of the uninformed public and riled-up punditry, and it invites discussion about how Kevin should be treated or understood as a hacker.

There is certainly a Mark Zuckerberg-in-”The Social Network” quality to Kevin’s life, driven by social inadequacies to pursue other ways of relating to the world and enriching himself. Also, it brings his life to a head at the end in a way that I’ll admit caught me a little off guard, connecting his story to that of Bradley Manning and Wikileaks.

The convergence of their themes and stories makes sense. Piskor seems to be asking, after fully exploring Kevin, “Who in today’s society is facing similar treatment for rogue behavior and the invasion of secret places?” The conclusion leaves everything on a slightly off note, which is fine and unsettling, even if it does come of as a bit preachy from a book that has otherwise avoided much moralizing.

As a tour through the subject matter, a quick history lesson and long-form comic laced with Easter eggs for nerds, I think it’s safe to recommend this book. Be prepared to digest its political message, and be ready to learn a thing or two if you aren’t a regular reader of 2600, but I would think if you’re already considering giving it a look, these are all things that you would be open to.

I remember one of the first indie titles I got to review for Wizard Magazine when I was on staff there back in the day being a Renée French book (2007′s “Micrographica,” I believe), and that was my introduction to her work.

“Bjornstrand” the book is an extension of the creature/character exploration French has been doing in her webcomic “Baby Bjornstrand.” In one sense it’s a little reminiscent of “Cloverfield,” in that it’s about a mysterious, potentially deadly creature emerging out of nowhere—and the story is being told through the lens of French’s art, which endows any comic story she’s telling with a slight sense of vagueness.

The tale is playful, due to the inherent contradictions being implemented. Every page is devoid of any anger or wrath, though the language of the tiny speck characters is full of obscenity. Bjornstrand is gigantic and capable of rampant destruction, but his eyes are cute, shiny balls that make him look like a blown-up Pokémon critter. Even the art style, which is soft and dreamlike contrasts with the realistic banter and harsh tension that drive the comic.

Like Tom Spurgeon, I found myself wondering about the significance of the title character’s name and whether or not it’s a nod to Gunnar Björnstrand. (I wondered about this ahead of SPX, but neglected to bring it up when I had the chance.) I have seen a lot of Ingmar Bergman movies starring Gunnar Björnstrand, and it’s certainly noteworthy that many of those films take place in isolated locales near the water, much like the setting in French’s comic.

Additionally, I am going to break out my Swedish knowledge here and point out that if you split that name into two pieces—”björn” and “strand”—those words mean “bear” and “beach.” So there is a possibility the name is just there to poke fun at the dichotomy that is Bjornstrand (or embody the essence of a beast emerging from the water).

Personally, I like to think that all of these competing ideas are in play, helping French’s narrative to keep the reader on their toes as she treads carefully, writing a cute story that could topple and plunge into horrific chaos at any moment.

The first of those was Daniel Clowes, and I didn’t get to see him speak. Fortunately, I did drop by two supremely memorable panels—the first of which featured Françoise Mouly speaking about her history in publishing, and the second of which featured Gilbert Hernandez in conversation with Sean T. Collins. Given that Sean is one of the best read and most insightful Love and Rockets readers around, this turned out to be a highlight of the show, especially when a fan chimed in at the end to ask Gilbert how he feels about the band Love and Rockets.

I also flipped through loads of great new books and brought a few home. I miss my minicomics hook-ups in Chicago dearly, so SPX provided a great chance to grab some indie/alternative works and make up for lost reading time since my move out to D.C. What you see here is a sampling of that haul, so as you can imagine I plan to run a few reviews here in the coming days.

In fact, expect to see a few thoughts on Renee French’s “Bjornstrand” shortly.

Urban foraging is going to need its own category on this blog soon. Last week, we came across a wild patch of sesame leaves near the National Zoo, so I wanted to pass that link along with the Flickr-mapped coordinates for any of you D.C. residents who are reading this.

They’re all next to the river near the trail that leads up to the zoo entrance—and they are delicious in soup.

Fair warning here. This review contains some spoilers.

As an event in history, director Christopher Nolan’s final Batman film is almost impossible to consider apart from two tragedies—the Aurora shooting and the death of Heath Ledger that forever colored “Batman: The Dark Knight.” In turn, both of those events have forever colored how people discuss “The Dark Knight Rises” and how Nolan’s trilogy will be remembered.

“The Dark Knight Rises” deserves to be considered as a single film and as Nolan’s final word on the title character, though, and those are the two perspectives I brought to my final evaluation of a Batman film that failed to articulate Batman’s meaning and nature as gracefully as its predecessors, yet ultimately shut the door assertively on Nolan’s Gotham City universe, leaving a memorable history and culture behind with a few successful, pleasant surprises.

In the scheme of the trilogy, I see the underlying premises of Nolan’s Batman films thusly:

1. “Batman Begins” (2005) — Who is Batman?

2. “The Dark Knight” (2008) — Who isn’t Batman?

3. “The Dark Knight Rises” (2012) — What is the absence of Batman?

The franchise’s first two installments worked so well because Nolan was working with a blank slate and almost incessantly hammered away at what Batman means as a symbol, how that makes him more than just a man and why that struggle against competing ideologies is what defines him. In the cultural backdrop of this discussion were the 9/11 attacks and the real-life urban terror that the actions of villains such as Ra’s al Ghul, The Joker and Bane now resemble in the public eye.

My esteemed colleagues Rick Marshall and Laura Hudson (as well as many others) have already identified the odd plot holes and technical oddities that populate “The Dark Knight Rises.” Before moving on into my broader critique, I would just state for the record that the bomb’s blast radius, Bruce Wayne’s climbing apparatus and Bane’s stabbing are all noticeable hiccups for the film. I accept the necessity of the suspension of disbelief for sci-fi, fantasy and superhero films as genres, but these errors all seem like problems that could have easily been addressed through tiny script tweaks or camera angle swaps.

Meanwhile, the underlying problem I kept returning to as I watched this story dealt with Bane’s nature as a character. Heath Ledger’s Joker made for a compelling contrast against Christian Bale’s Batman because the two were so clearly linked by their disregard for the letter of the law but separated by their choices to channel their anger into distinct livelihoods. The Joker chose anarchy and rampant, amoral destruction, while Batman chose the preservation of life. Ra’s al Ghul believed in wiping out un-correctable civilizations in favor for rebuilding better societies in their places. In both of those cases, Batman had overlapping experiences but was defined by a clear difference of opinion or tactics.

That understood, Bane’s story came packaged in potential. “The Dark Knight Rises” seemed like it could be the ultimate post-financial-collapse Batman story with a heavy dose of “Knightfall”-inspired beats. Ultimately, however, Bane’s nature, motivation and backstory changed considerably from the comics. He became a kind of Ra’s al Ghul lite who was built up as a mastermind, only to be demoted by a plot twist (one which I didn’t see coming and did appreciate for its shock value, by the way). Bane could have been the ultimately dirty-tactics Robin Hood, but instead he became diluted by camp and bravado that limited the scope of his character. We were left with something much more digestible as a perceivable character than Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Mr. Freeze, but much lower on the totem poles of gravitas and genius than Liam Neeson’s Ra’s and Ledger’s Joker.

The Russian-doll-style twists toward the end compounded the problem left by Bane’s motivational vacuum and put a lot more pressure on the film to succeed as the third chapter of a trilogy, especially since it began bending over backwards to slip in quick story recaps and cameos in the final act. “Dark Knight Rises,” didn’t succeed in illuminating anything new about Nolan’s Batman for me, but land the franchise in an unexpected way that felt like it made sense. DC films have a weird tradition (and by tradition I mean “Superman Returns” and “TDKR”) of turning their heroes into family men now. That’s another issue altogether, but—corny, forced Robin reference aside—Nolan’s trilogy has been put to bed in a way that settled lingering plot threads and provided surprises.

“TDKR” is always going to be my third-favorite Nolan Batman film, but it’s still a Nolan Batman film, and it lived up to my baseline expectations of camera-trickery, and jolting plot revelations. In the tradition of great trilogy-enders such as “Return of the Jedi” and “Return of the King,” this one isn’t likely to be remembered on equal footing. It performed its duty honorably, though, and for that, we can be thankful.

Credit: Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, LC-DIG-ppmsca-31434

Dolphins and humans coexisting in a single hotel/embassy space together in the nation’s capital—why not, right?

If you missed out on the National Building Museum’s “Unbuilt Washington” exhibit this year, I don’t know what to tell you. It was a personal highlight for me for the first half of 2012.

If you’ve run into me since I walked through this collection of wonders at the end of May, you probably heard me mention Doug Michels’ Dolphin America Hotel, which envisioned a space for humans and dolphins to live and interact with one another.

The official listing from the NBM reads as follows:

Proposed Dolphin America Hotel, designed by Doug Michels Architecture in collaboration with Jim Allegro, AIA, 1989. Architect Doug Michels was fascinated by dolphins and proposed various projects that would bring humans into closer contact with the aquatic mammals.

Just take a look at the design and let that idea sink in for a minute.

Also, what is that in the sky—a B-2 over the Washington Monument? Or a UFO?