The Chicago-based Joffrey Ballet, once the resident dance company of the Music Center, returned to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion Thursday night for a dazzling performance of Cinderella. The three-act program, which runs through the weekend, combined gorgeous sets and costumes, comical characters, and a whole lot of heart.

Moments before the lights dimmed, artistic director Ashley C. Wheater took the stage to announce that the evening marked “a renewed relationship between Los Angeles and the Joffrey” and that while the late cofounder Robert Joffrey never saw his dancers perform the classic fairy tale, this production was in fact “a parable that dreams come true.”

I can understand. As a young dancer, I grew up watching the Joffrey here. Promotional posters covered my bedroom walls and I collected backstage autographs from my favorite stars. The company’s refreshing, creative pieces (“Light Rain,” “Le Sacre Du Printemps,” “The Taming of the Shrew”) were so inspiring they got a girl dreaming.

That sense of promise and possibility remains today. Cinderella, choreographed by Sir Frederick Ashton and set to Serge Prokofiev’s beautiful score, not only highlights the Joffrey’s serious talent, but also its youthful energy and spirit. Victoria Jaiani, in the title role on opening night, captivated the audience with her good-natured sincerity (not to mention those leg extensions). Many dramatic extras also had us gasping: candelabras with twinkling lights, glitter raining from the sky, a transformative pumpkin (with smoke!). The stepsisters, played by men in drag as is traditional, nearly stole their scenes. Prince Charming, if a little wooden, served as a solid partner for his sweetheart. The fairy godmother and her charge of fairies representing the four seasons were delightful—always in synchronized step, with arms outstretched like the hands of a clock, reminding us of the stroke of midnight and Cinderella’s fate.

Speaking of time: As with any good fairy tale, you know how the story ends.  With this performance, though, I hoped it wouldn’t.

Jan. 29: At 7:30. Jan. 30: At 2 and 7:30. Jan. 31: At 2.

Photograph by Herbert Migdoll

I’m ashamed to admit that, even though I’m a dancer, my preconceived image of Riverdance included little more than the repetitive hopping and linear patterns I saw on the show’s uninspired TV commercials. That is, until I caught one of Riverdance’s 16 farewell performances at the Pantages (the run ended Jan. 24).

Let me say, I wish I had discovered it sooner. Yes, the show included upright, uniform dancing in straight lines as advertised. I did not, however, expect the dynamic, live musicians who fingered their instruments at an outrageous speed, the seductive flamenco dancer who commanded attention with her arched back and expressive hands, or the white-haired male trio from the Moscow Folk Ballet Company who defied gravity (and arthritis) with one-handed back handsprings and towering toe-touches (Glee’s Cheerios wouldn’t stand a chance).

Alternating between diverse musical and dance acts, Riverdance kept the audience ooh-ing and ahh-ing throughout the night. Female principal Melissa Convery moved with both sass and grace and male principal Marty Dowds’ lightening-quick footwork kept our jaws dropped. My personal favorite, and the show’s crowd-pleasing climax, was a street-style dance battle between two charismatic American tap dancers and three Irish dancers. Entitled “Trading Taps,” the two all-male “crews” fought to prove who had the fastest, most complex and most creative foot rhythms through a spirited back-and-fourth interplay. It ended in a draw: the Irish dancers broke into classic Broadway tap moves, the tappers joined hands in an Irish jig.

Interweaving different cultural traditions, races, beliefs and art forms together into one harmonious performance, Riverdance celebrates the human spirit and displays a hope for peace. The baritone opera singer, the smiley fiddler, the focused ensemble dancer—all share a discipline and devotion to their craft. Onstage, their joys and struggles tied them together. The audience fed off of their passion and became a part of their journey, which concluded that night with a standing ovation. It made me proud to be an artist. Viva Riverdance!

What a roller coaster 72 hours I’ve had! It all starts with one disappointing NFL playoff game (Jets) and one thrilling result (Saints). What I would have given to see a Mark Sanchez vs. Reggie Bush Superbowl. But alas it did not happen. So with so much left over to give, I found myself at the Music Box on Sunday night attending a special concert by Radiohead for Haiti.

I have long wanted to see Radiohead. But seeing them at the Hollywood Bowl (their usual venue) struck me as a losing proposition. As Hannibal Lecter famously said “All good things to those who wait, Clarice.” Am I glad I waited. This was one of the best concerts I have ever seen (and I’ve been to hundreds of concerts.)

Perhaps the greatest joy in seeing them on Sunday was knowing that they had nothing to promote, nothing to prove and no one to impress. All they needed was a simple desire to play music and have a great time doing it. The over two-hour long concert was filled with classic songs (like “Karma Police,” “Pyramid” and “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”) that had the crowd cheering. More importantly it raised over $572,000 for Oxfam specifically for Haitian relief.

What amazed me most was hearing Thom Yorke’s voice. The cynic in me feared that his haunting and lyrical voice was somehow assisted with engineering in the studio. That was a totally unjustified fear. In fact, his voice was even more impressive live. The musicianship of his band mates was equally stunning. Radiohead is certainly in a class all by itself.

Of course, having so butch a day, I had to cap it off with some showtunes. So I made a quick trip over to O-Bar in West Hollywood to see the very talented Bryan Miller tickle the ivories. Imagine my surprise when I walked in and saw Liza Minnelli performing. Okay, perhaps it wasn’t really Liza, but it was Peter Mac (who often performs as her mother, Judy Garland) belting out “Cabaret.” I went after a change of pace and boy did I get it!

Monday evening found me at Musical Mondays at Eleven Nightclub. I dropped in to see Sara Jean Ford (recently see in Finian’s Rainbow on Broadway which I loved) and former Altar Boy Danny Calvert. Ms. Ford certainly impressed, particularly with her performance of “The Girl in 14G” which requires multiple styles and incredible range. She nailed it. Mr. Calvert strangely chose to sing almost exclusively songs originally written for and performed by women. I know it’s a gay bar. But really? Those were his best choices? And he finished with a song by a first-time songwriter that left the crowd with a downer of an ending. Then the two joined forces to recreate the “Elephant Love Medley” from Moulin Rouge! The crowd went wild, perhaps because they could sing along much as they did earlier in the evening to a clip of Elaine Stritch singing “The Ladies Who Lunch.” I never knew that was a sing-along song.

When I got in my car at the end of the night, I heard Radiohead singing the following lyrics from their song “Just:”: “You do it to yourself, you do and that’s what really hurts.” Talk about irony.

My whirlwind ended at the Pantages Theatre for the opening night of Stomp. I originally saw the show many years ago at the Wadsworth in Westwood. This production promised “new surprises.” Well…the main surprise for me was how the joy of discovery the first time I saw this show has evolved into complacency. Yes the choreography and the rhythms are impressive. The cast works hard through every minute of the show. The concept is clever. But if you’ve seen it once, I doubt the new surprises will be enough to lift you into the same level of excitement as before. If you haven’t seen it, it is worth visiting. The audience (not always respectful of the performers and the complexities of the work) certainly ate it up. 

LACMA’s Bing Theater was bustling on Wednesday night for Martin Scorsese’s talk with the museum’s CEO, Michael Govan. A well-heeled crowd nearly filled up the room, despite torrential rain in a city that’s not used to it. The lights dimmed just after 7:30, and Govan introduced the man who needs no introduction.

Scorsese, unsurprisingly, is extremely well-versed in film speak. He knows exactly when types of cameras and film stocks changed, and why that was for the better or for the worse. And he’s doing something about “the worse”. In 1990, with a group of big name friends, he started The Film Foundation, which preserves and restores film, something he’s been passionate about since 1980. They recently spent almost $700,000 restoring the original camera negative of The Red Shoes (1948) to pristine condition. Clips were shown as an example of his preservationist work—lots of befores and afters—and it was impressive. The restored print is a thing of beauty—crisp, fresh, and colorful. The audience oohed and ahhed. Other Film Foundation projects include Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night (1932), Alfred Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt (1943), and David Lynch’s Eraserhead (1977).

Scorsese also told personal stories about showing his young daughter, Francesca, old films—and how children don’t take a film’s age into account (especially if it’s in good condition). She’s a fan of Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and Cary Grant. After watching Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments (1956), she told her dad she’d like to meet its star, Yul Brynner (1920-1985). That got big laughs from the crowd of film aficionados.

The appearance was particularly meaningful. Last summer, when it was announced that the Los Angeles County Museum of Art was going to take an indefinite break from their film program, Michael Govan got lots of angry emails, calls and letters.—and those in addition to an online petition against his decision that almost 3,000 people signed. One of those letters was from Scorsese, who wrote of his personal connection with the program and how “deeply disturbed” he was by its cancellation. Thanks to an insurgence of funds (in great part due to the spotlight the director’s letter put on the issue) and the creation of a new Film Club membership option, the program is back in business.

On Sunday night, Scorsese accepted the Cecil B. DeMille Award for lifetime achievement in motion pictures at the Golden Globes, and he took the opportunity to make a couple points for film preservation. “Making films and preserving them are the same thing,” he said. It’s a big statement from the man behind Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas, Casino, The Aviator, and The Departed, to name a few. His introduction there was fitting: Director/Producer/Preservationist. It was the latter brought him to LACMA later in the week. “Motion pictures are part of a continuum,” he said. That continuum includes screenings like those he attended at the museum in the early 1970s while making Mean Streets, and the one he hosted Wednesday night. L.A. is lucky that Scorsese—a true New Yorker—is so passionate about retaining the film program here.

A. Scott Berg might have been destined to be a biographer before he was born. His mother became obsessed with F. Scott Fitzgerald in her ninth month of pregnancy and ultimately named her son after the great American writer. Fifteen years later, after Berg «wasted his youth as a TV idiot,” an English assignment from the Pacific Palisades Charter High School turned him on to his namesake. It was the first lightbulb to go off. By the time Berg discovered boxes dedicated to Max Perkins, the editor who discovered Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe in the Princeton library (Berg had enrolled as an undergraduate student, just like Fitzgerald) neon lights were flashing. Berg decided to write a biography on Perkins, the man who shaped twentieth century American literature.

The biography started out as Berg’s senior thesis and turned into a seven-year book project. He talked about the book, Max Perkins: Editor of Genius, and his published biographies of Charles Lindbergh, Katharine Hepburn, and Samuel Goldwyn (a biography of Woodrow Wilson is forthcming), at the neon pink Billy Wilder Theater on Tuesday night.

At the talk, part of the Hammer Museum’s “Some Favorite Writers,” the Pulitzer Prize winner explained that he asks himself one question when deciding who to write about next: Does that person’s life allow me to tell a bigger picture?  So far, his biographies, in collection, have allowed him to paint a detailed picture of twentieth century America. Berg prides himself on getting the “United States stated,” (a line he borrowed from Robert Frost), writing on figures from the East, West, Midwest and South. He also explained the importance of imposing a “dramatic grid” over the facts of a subject’s life to tell a compelling story. The son of a historian and a screenwriter, Berg says, “I write history for my mother, drama for my father.”

I sat in the audience, hypnotized by the charismatic and exuberant Berg, who won the hearts of the Lindbergh family (they gave him sole access to Charles Lindbergh’s files) and Katharine Hepburn, with whom he established a friendship that lasted until her death at the age of ninety-six. After his talk, Berg sat down with UCLA professor and award-winning novelist Mona Simpson for a lively discussion about the art of biography. “Go home and print out every email you have on your machine!” he told the biography subject hopefuls in the room. “We need words on paper.” He left me with this thought from Max Perkins, the man who unwittingly launched his career: “There could be nothing so important as a book can be.”

Happy New Year to everyone! It didn’t take more than a few days into 2010 for me to be back in NYC.  Of course I had to take advantage of new shows so let me fill you in on the wonder, the power, the talent of two amazing octogenarians.

The one and only Elaine Stritch has a new show at the Café Carlyle called Singin’ Sondheim…One Song at a Time.  Having never been to the Carlyle (awfully expensive) for a cabaret show and being a fan of Ms. Stritch and the work of Mr. Sondheim, it was high time for me to buck up and spend a lot of money for 65 minutes of performance and some over-priced food of dubious quality.

Was it worth it? For Elaine Stritch – every penny and then some.  Watching this legend (who turns 85 in February) was like attending the most amazing master class on performing.  Not only was she entertaining, but every song took on a resonance rarely found as performed by lesser talents. 

She began with “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story and went into “Rose’s Turn” from Gypsy.  Would that she had been given the chance to tackle that role 30 years ago.  What a performance that would have been!  Her version of “Send in the Clowns” is now on par with Judi Dench’s performance of the song as my favorite.  She also chose to recite the words from “Every Day a Little Death” and it proved a potent example of the power of Sondheim’s words.  Simply put, these 65 minutes were amongst the very best minutes I’ve ever experienced.  Someone please record this show!

The next evening I went to see the new production of Sondheim’s A Little Night Music that stars Catherine Zeta-Jones and the endlessly talented Angela Lansbury (who also turns 85 this year.)  Let’s start with the good news:  I would be very surprised if Ms. Lansbury does not make Tony Award history by winning her 6^th Tony for this performance.  She is the anchor of the show (not that it is written that way) and every moment she was on stage was pure magic.  I’ve never really responded strongly to the character of Madame Armfeldt, but for the first time I experienced how essential she is to the story.

Of course, having her as the anchor meant something was lacking in Ms. Zeta-Jones’ performance.  What you might ask?  Grace, simplicity, understanding, awareness, vocal prowess and assuredness top the list.  I felt like I was watching Velma Kelly from Chicago dressed in a corset.  She was completely wrong in the show (much too modern to be believable in a story set in turn-of-the-century Sweden) and the only thing she provided was star power for the bridge, tunnel and remote control crowd that Broadway caters to.  Poor Alexander Hanson who plays Fredrik – he gives a truly wonderful and natural performance and his co-star spends half her time smirking and snorting and chortling her way in search of a character.  His elegance and grace is even more remarkable all things considered.

ALNM is a show that should be like the best champagne.  While Sondheim’s music and words are amongst my favorites, this production is more like a leaden soufflé.  Director Trevor Nunn shoulders much of the responsibility for having a dimly lit stage and a much-too-small and over amplified orchestra as two major problems.  But poor Catherine Zeta-Jones…  who could follow Elaine Stritch with a performance of “Send in the Clowns” that could remotely be half as moving? 

In the Founder's Room beneath the Magic Castle in Hollywood, an exclusive club inside an already exclusive club, Tippi Hedren was taking a short break from raising money for her cats to watch some sleight-of-hand at the bar.

It was the The Birds star’s birthday party (she turns 80 years old today), but Hedren declined cake and any celebratory to-do. Instead, she kept the focus on her cats. Photographs of the lions and leopards of Shambala, the wildlife preserve she founded in 1983, lined the walls of the room, leading guests to a table where the actress, back with a calligraphy pen in hand, waited to sign prints for hundreds of dollars a pop. It takes one million dollars a year to keep preserve running, to provide the 400-500 pounds of meat the hungry animals eat daily, to clean them and care for them and keep them on the minds of caring people. 

Hedren isn’t your everyday celeb with a bleeding heart. It’s been said (incorrectly) that Alfred Hitchcok plucked her out of a small town in Minnesota to star in her first film, that her short and strange relationship with the reportedly celibate director ended when Hedren criticized the horror master’s weight (this, after Hitchcock allegedly built a ramp between his trailer and hers and once mailed Hedren's daughter a miniature likeness of her mother lying in a tiny coffin). Marnie, the second film they made together, stalled first on set and then at the box office, effectively ending her career in film.

The actual details of Hedren's tête-à-tête with Hitchcock and with Hollywood are hard to know: she’s politely had "no comment" for years. I’m re-telling her myth now because it is precisely what Hedren has fought to eclipse with her Shambala foundation. She didn't have the career in cinema that she was promised, but the career she found in animal activism along the way was no less meaningful. Hedren has committed herself to it fully for almost thirty years. Currently she’s working to help pass a congressional bill that would prevent the breeding of wild cats as pets, a surprisingly immediate and modern problem: The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service lists the exotic cat trade as a business "just under illegal drugs."

I couldn't think of an octogenarian better suited for this task. Hedren’s fought Hitchcock, forty years of rumors, and Hollywood itself. Surely she can take on Washington, too.

Every year I find myself glued to the television watching Hollywood award shows. The dresses! The spirit of competition! The gaffes! And sure enough, when the credits roll (inevitably cutting some awkward group speech short) I find myself feeling a little empty handed.

That's why I’m starting the Spyglass Blog Award Show Pool. Check out the abbreviated list of Golden Globe nominees below, then post a comment with your picks for these fifteen categories in TV and film. The reader who correctly guesses the most winners will receive a free one-year subscription to the magazine. I’m ineligible to win myself, but you can thank me in your speech.

The Golden Globes will air Sunday, January 17 on NBC.

BEST MOTION PICTURE, DRAMA 
Avatar?• The Hurt Locker?• Inglourious Basterds?• Precious?• Up in the Air 

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE, DRAMA
Emily Blunt, The Young Victoria?• Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side?• Helen Mirren, The Last Station?• Carey Mulligan, An Education?• Gabourey Sidibe, Precious

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE, DRAMA
Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart?• George Clooney, Up in the Air?• Colin Firth, A Single Man?• Morgan Freeman, Invictus?• Tobey Maguire, Brothers

BEST MOTION PICTURE, COMEDY OR MUSICAL 
(500) Days of Summer?• The Hangover?• It's Complicated?• Julie & Julia?• Nine 

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE, COMEDY OR MUSICAL
Sandra Bullock, The Proposal?• Marion Cotillard, Nine?• Julia Roberts, Duplicity?• Meryl Streep, It's Complicated?• Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE, COMEDY OR MUSICAL
Matt Damon, The Informant!?• Daniel Day-Lewis, Nine?• Robert Downey Jr., Sherlock Holmes?• Joseph Gordon-Levitt, (500) Days of Summer?• Michael Stuhlbarg, A Serious Man

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A MOTION PICTURE
Penélope Cruz, Nine?• Vera Farmiga, Up in the Air?• Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air?• Mo'Nique, Precious?• Julianne Moore, A Single Man

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A MOTION PICTURE
Matt Damon, Invictus?• Woody Harrelson, The Messenger?• Christopher Plummer, The Last Station?• Stanley Tucci, The Lovely Bones?• Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds

BEST DIRECTOR
Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker?• James Cameron, Avatar?• Clint Eastwood, Invictus?• Jason Reitman, Up in the Air?• Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds

BEST TELEVISION SERIES, DRAMA
Big Love?• Dexter?• House?• Mad Men?• True Blood 

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A TELEVISION SERIES, DRAMA
Glenn Close, Damages?• January Jones, Mad Men?• Julianna Margulies, The Good Wife?• Anna Paquin, True Blood?• Kyra Sedgwick, The Closer

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A TELEVISION SERIES, DRAMA
Simon Baker, The Mentalist?• Michael C. Hall, Dexter?• Jon Hamm, Mad Men?• Hugh Laurie, House?• Bill Paxton, Big Love 

BEST TELEVISION SERIES, COMEDY OR MUSICAL
30 Rock?• Entourage?• Glee?• Modern Family?• The Office

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A TELEVISION SERIES, COMEDY OR MUSICAL
Toni Collette, United States of Tara?• Courteney Cox, Cougar Town?• Edie Falco, Nurse Jackie?• Tina Fey, 30 Rock?• Lea Mic

Since its launch was announced last month, LA Gang Tours has been at the center of a slow-brewing tempest in the L.A. media teacup. The non-profit—whose stated mission is to “provide customers with a true first-hand encounter of the history and origin of high profile gang areas and the top crime scene locations in South Central, Los Angeles”—raises these socially-charged questions:

Can a bus tour of the gangs of South L.A. effectively convey the complicated, deeply rooted issues that plague the area and the ways in which individuals and communities are working to solve them? Or is this simply exploitation?

Critics have responded to that last question with a resounding “yes.” L.A. Times contributing editor Erin Aubry Kaplan called the tour “ghettotainment.” A post on the blog CityWatch suggested that running such a tour was akin to “turning your street into a neighborhood zoo.” And a columnist for University of Wisconsin’s student newspaper dismissed it as “trivializing a serious American societal issue by glorifying it into a voyeuristic journey around the shittiest areas of L.A. to observe what most bus riders will treat as a freak show.”

It was with these sentiments in mind that I joined a tour organized for members of the press on Sunday. Leading this group—which included a disproportionately large number of European journalists—was LA Gang Tours’ founder, Alfred Lomas. At 45, this former member of the Florencia 13 gang (a tattoo on his neck creeps up just above his collar) calls himself a “community interventionist.” Working with the Dream Center, a non-denominational church housed in the old Queen of Angels Hospital building between Echo Park and Silver Lake, Lomas makes weekly trips to the Pueblo del Rio public housing projects in South L.A. to distribute food and minister to the community.

On those excursions, Lomas pulls right up to the curb. On the LA Gang Tours, however, it’s a different story. The route hardly ventures “inside,” instead keeping a self-imposed distance from its object: the streets. Instead of taking us to, say, the intersection of Florence and Normandie avenues, Lomas simply mentions that the spot was the epicenter of the 1992 riots—while the bus is at the intersection of Florence and Compton, about three miles away. He does the same while talking about Skid Row, which, like a number of the sights that we actually saw on the tour, is not in South L.A. at all. (Neither are the Metropolitan Detention Center and the L.A. Riverbed.) Finally—with the exception of the visually stunning Pico Union Housing Corporation Graff Lab, which is the only spot on the route where riders will be allowed to get off the bus and take pictures—“stops” felt more like pauses.

Which is why I think LA Gang Tours will disappoint a lot of people, and no one more so than the voyeuristic tourists expected by the tour’s detractors. Anyone looking for a titillating experience of urban poverty should probably look elsewhere. Tourists will see no gang-bangers, will dodge no bullets, and will likely encounter nothing more menacing in South L.A. than they would in their own neighborhoods on a Sunday afternoon. It’s more likely that “Gang Tourists” will end up frustrated that they can’t hop off the bus and browse through the Alameda Swap Meet.

The critics will be let down, too—although presumably relieved—because their worst expectations won’t be fulfilled. The tour is voyeuristic, but it isn’t exploitative. On Sunday, Lomas tried to reassure dubious reporters of this by emphasizing his good intentions: to shed light on the South L.A. community while creating jobs for other former gang-members and spurring local economic development. He emphasized that community leaders, members of the clergy, and rival gangs had all been consulted about the tour’s route. And he reminded us that the tour is only the first part of his three-phase plan for neighborhood development.

He doth protest too much, methinks, because his best defense is the content of the tour itself. Over the course of our afternoon, Lomas told us the history of his own neighborhood, one that is implicitly subversive. Is there another guide in the city who would tell tourists about the ongoing dispute over the South Central Farm? When was the last time you were on a bus that screened parts of Stacy Peralta’s documentary Crips and Bloods: Made in America while driving up the 110? And on what other tour of L.A. can you hear about the decades of racial discrimination and violence between communities of color—from actual members of those communities who are working to help end that violence?

From what I saw and heard, the LA Gang Tour is Lomas’ statement of solidarity with his community, and its highlight came at the end, when he introduced us to two of his collaborators. Fred “Scorpio” Smith and Melvin Johnson were members of rival gangs who have also begun working to improve their communities. Smith is the founder of Parolees for Change, a non-profit that helps to empower recently paroled former gang members. Johnson is training to be a City-certified “crisis intervention expert” to keep peace between gangs and discourage young people from making the same bad choices he did.

For better or worse, gangs are Lomas’ marketing hook to get tourists to visit, learn, and care about South L.A. Nevertheless, if he focuses that attention on people from his neighborhood who want to share their stories, then he should win over his critics and find a socially-minded audience. A tour like that will be well worth the $65 admission.

The first LA Gang Tour will take place this Saturday, January 16, from 10am-12pm.

I come from the school of thought that any publicity—for a good cause—is good publicity, but there’s something undeniably icky about less-than-informed It guys and girls self-consciously name dropping the latest cause célèbre on the red carpet. When Lindsay Lohan tweets “Over 40 Children saved so far...... Within one day's work…” about a December raid which rescued trafficked children in New Delhi that she did not participate in, you know that raising awareness is having a moment.?

That’s why Summit on the Summit: Kilimanjaro, the week-long trek up Africa’s highest peak organized by philanthropist-musician Kenna to bring attention to the global clean water crisis, caught mine. Jessica Biel, Lupe Fiasco, Isabel Lucas, Emile Hirsch, Elizabeth Gore, Kick Kennedy, and others are making the notoriously difficult climb, which is being filmed for a documentary that will air on MTV on March 14. It’s so far from Hollywood. It’s so unglamorous. It’s so extreme. The most interesting part? Summit on the Summit’s Web site, where you can virtually follow the team and track their individual heart rates, altitudes, O2 levels, and grades—along with the current weather conditions. A recent check shows the group is at almost 15,000 feet. For these celebrities—and in particular Biel and Hirsch, who tend to guard their personal lives from the press—the journey is clearly an act of passion. For us, it’s unusually inspirational “celebreality.”

Michael Cera’s new film, Youth in Revolt, brought hipsters out in droves on Tuesday night to Flux's monthly Cinema Tuesdays screening at Nike Sportwear at the Montalbán Theatre in Hollywood. With Red Bull, bottled water and Belvedere cocktails on hand, as well as a DJ pre-screening, things got off to a good start. The audience of twenty- and thirty-somethings snacked on popcorn and chatted about dive bars, Facebook, and cute boys while waiting for the film to start.

Youth in Revolt is clever; some parts downright hilarious. Director Miguel Arteta (The Good Girl) makes the most of his great cast, which includes Steve Buscemi and Ray Liotta, in this adaptation of C.D. Payne's novel, but it’s Cera’s signature comedy that elevates the boy-meets-girl story. He plays Nick Twisp, a teenager more interested in Sinatra and Fellini than football who has an alter ego named Francois Dillinger. He’s unpopular at school and miserable at home until he meets Sheeni Saunders (Portia Doubleday) while on vacation at a lakeside trailer park with his mom and her deadbeat live-in boyfriend, Jerry (Zach Galifianakis). Sheeni’s different than the girls who ignore Twisp at school—she likes French films and has a record collection—and the two become fast friends (he’s in love from the moment he sees her). When he has to return home earlier than expected, he comes up with a slew of “what if” possibilities for them to stay together. Adventures ensue, Dillinger (also played by Cera) comes out to play, and hilarity takes off. A scene at the breakfast table with Dillinger smoking and being rude to his mother and her new acquaintance, Officer Lance Wescott (Liotta)—an attempt to piss of his mother so he can live with his father (Buscemi) and be closer to Sheeni—is particularly funny. Dillinger wears crisp white pants, loafers, aviator sunglasses and calls Twisp out on his wimpy ways. If he wants Sheeni, he reasons, he will have to follow his alter ego’s lead, even when that means breaking the law, damaging property, and lying.

With suspense throughout, plenty of humor (I missed a couple of lines because the audience was laughing so loud), and a really cute love story as its base, Youth in Revolt is sure to find an audience. I won’t ruin the ending, but it’s true that at the end of the day, nothing feels better than being yourself—no matter how cool your alter ego.

Youth in Revolt opens today.

 By Leslie Anne Wiggins

Driving down Hollywood Boulevard on New Years Eve was like navigating the Las Vegas Strip. Bumper-to-bumper cars and cabs. Hundreds of revelers walking in the streets. It was 10 p.m. but it looked more like daytime—each store, restaurant, and club lit up. We passed girls in sequined dresses and guys in blazers shivering in long lines outside East, Katsuya, and the Roosevelt. I thought of the line that I’d encounter at H.wood, where I was headed, and regretted getting out of my PJs and leaving my fireplace behind. At least I brought a coat.

Miraculously, entering H.wood—a multi-level club on North Orange off Hollywood Boulevard—was simple and wait-free. I quickly picked my tickets at will call and was ushered into the venue by pleasant doormen who wished me a happy new year. Everyone was dressed to the nines—some girls even donned festive feathered headpieces that I later found out were being sold inside. Others stuck with traditional cardboard top hats and silver foil crowns.

Things were rowdier upstairs. Top 40 hits—plenty of Lady Gaga and Rihanna—blasted from large speakers as hundreds of people crowded the dance floor. It was easy enough to get drinks (thanks to the club’s four bars), and they were delicious, and strong. I didn’t see any tray-passed appetizers—advertised along with the open bar to be included in the $100 presale admission price—but I was happy to indulge in a large glazed doughnut I plucked from a platter set next to a table on the edge of the dance floor. I guess bottle service has its perks.

What set the night apart was Lucent Dossier Experience, a burlesque-type circus troop that paraded through the club. Though the troop recently ended their artist residency at H.wood, they were back on New Years Eve to lend an air of festivity to the already-festive evening—and they did. Male and female cirque members danced widely on tabletops, looking like they stumbled out of 1910. Others smiled down on the party from stilts.

In the end, the traditional champagne toast at midnight was a wonderful—if messy—beginning to 2010. But I was more than happy to ditch my heels for my PJs and fireplace hours later—and didn’t leave them for all of New Years Day. 

Photograph by Mila Reynaud

The Budweiser Clydesdales made an appearance along with their dalmatian mascot on Gilmore Lane at the Farmers Market today from noon to 2. The connection between the beer, the eight horses (who stayed put with their wagon in front of a small crowd—and security—for the duration of the event) and the market (something about BCS fans in town for “The Big Game,” according to a press release) seems fuzzy, but no matter, the horses were something to see: tall, strong, and beautiful. That dalmatian, just barely visible on top of the wagon in the photo below, wasn’t so bad himself.

It seems like animals are popping up all over the city—they’re in urban gardens and at food events, at least—and with news of the crop of infants at the Los Angeles Zoo, I knew I had to check them out in a more traditional place.

The last time I was at the zoo, I was in 8^th grade. That was ten years ago, and the zoo seemed larger than I remembered. Maybe the heat of the day was playing tricks on me. The thermometer hovered in the upper 90s, but I couldn’t put off my trip; I’d done that enough, and I wanted to catch the newbies while they’re still babies.

I made a beeline for the Australian habitats. There, two Kangaroo and Wallabee species live amongst wooden shelters built into eucalyptus trees, where koalas spend their days eating and sleeping. Kirhhi, the koala baby, was born in April 2008 and made her debut at the habitat the following December, so she isn’t tiny anymore, but she is something to see, independent and strong.

I dragged myself away and stopped by to see the seals and a bird I never knew existed: the round, silly-looking Australian Tawny Frogmouth. In search of the baby male giraffe that was born earlier this year, I made my way to the African habitats. At more than six feet tall he was dwarfed by the adult giraffes that stood over him protectively as I looked on.

Rounding the African habitats, I caught the Babirusa piglets, born on June 15. A brother and sister pair, they were oblivious to the heat, following their mother around, playing tag with each other, and happily flapping their tales in the sun. Their teeth haven’t yet grown into their snouts, but this will happen soon.

The goat and sheep species of the zoo were also prolific this year: Tadjik Markhor Goat twins were born in early May, and another set of male-female twins followed later that month. The baby goats stayed near their mothers as the large, horned male Markhor sat lazily at the top of their mountainous habitat. There I also saw a baby male Gerenuk, the zoo’s elegant and petite antelope variety that is known for its long and delicate neck. He was born in early June and remains quite small.

I stopped by the exotic cat habitats to visit my favorite animals last. Most of the big cats were out in the open, and two Ocelots lay intertwined, washing each other’s fur. The sweltering heat was too much for me to bear, so I didn’t walk to the Snow Leopard habitat, but I’ll be returning soon to visit the zoo’s newest additions: two Snow Leopard cubs that have just been introduced to the public, and a brand new baby Kikuyu colobus monkey that was born in late November.