Erik Bosgraaf. You have to be a little weird to make a career out of playing the recorder.

Last night's Dallas Symphony Orchestra concert left me with whiplash. If this was any indication, this weekend's program is bizarrely lopsided and, despite impressive playing, feels more like a display of anomaly than a cohesive artistic experience.

The first half of the concert is light and quick, lasting only about 20 minutes and featuring guest soloist Erik Bosgraaf on the recorder. Thanks to public school elementary music classes, most of us are familiar with a cheap, plastic version of this instrument. As kids, we dutifully covered little holes with chubby fingers, screeching through uneven renditions of Hot Cross Buns and, more often than not, creating more awkward noise than inspiring sound.

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At last night's Dallas Chamber Symphony performance a film screen illuminated the front of City Performance Hall. One of cinema's first haunts -- The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, came alive again on its 93rd birthday. Below it, a tidy cluster of classical musicians plucked their strings, building suspense.

It was the newest offering in the recent trend of silent film resurrections, where a group scores an old film, then reinvigorates it by playing live -- airing out classics for an all-talkie generation. It's something that the Dallas Chamber Symphony has latched onto in its first year of programming, this being the second of such commissioned works and only the fourth presentation offered to-date by the start-up non-profit.

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kylekinane.com

"I know there are comedians that think you need to know how to deal with it, but I don't want to be good at it," Kyle Kinane said of hecklers in his Mixmaster interview last week. On Sunday, his last night at the Addison Improv, he proved that whether he wants to or not, he is indeed good at dealing with obnoxious audience members who, while not exactly heckling, nonetheless felt the need to turn a monologue into a dialogue.

"Cocaine!" someone at a table near the stage shouted, apropos of nothing, around the middle of Kinane's set. "I had to quit doing cocaine," Kinane replied, and started into what sounded like a promising story as to why. He didn't finish it, though, before someone at the same table yelled out "Weed!" to derail it. Kinane used the opportunity to point out that the table -- which looked to consist of young adults, mid-20s or so, about the age where one really should already know how to get high without making an ass of oneself or quit doing it in public -- made a good case against drugs.

It led to a routine about how some people don't quit drugs, they beat them. About how if you have a shitty experience one night and consequently give up drugs, you quit. On the other hand, if you do every drug available and hit what for most people would be a harrowing rock bottom, yet still survive? You are the victor.

He had a funnier interaction with the same attention seekers later on, when he started into a story that began with receiving a call "from my Asian friend, Anthony." Whooping and laughter from the table distracted him once again.

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I was a bit concerned that Saturday's Mike Birbiglia performance, My Boyfriend's Girlfriend, at the Winspear Opera House wasn't billed as stand-up but rather as a solo show or monologue. Most stand-up acts could be described as a monologue or a solo show. What's the difference between a stand-up performance and a "solo show"?

No opener, no host, no hecklers, some occasionally over-dramatic lighting. That, and a narrative thread loosely holding the story together for about an hour and a half.



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Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.

Last night was billed as a "once-in-a-lifetime interview with Charlie Rose, acclaimed broadcast journalist with both film and documentary director, Rory Kennedy, and Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., exploring the lives and legacy of the Kennedy family."

There were moments when that actually happened, courtesy of Rose and Rory, during Friday night's program at the AT&T Performing Arts Center. Mostly, though, it was a bizarre performance by a bizarre and charming Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., who avoided answering questions about his family by diving into stories -- some of which he could not possibly have witnessed firsthand -- about his father's political career and his uncle's presidency, or yelling some emphatic slogan disguised as commentary on today's political climate.

Charlie Rose's entrance elicited cheers, and he is among the best who ever played the game. On this night, though, his hands were full with trying to contain RFK Jr. Some of his failed attempts included:

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Photos by Matthew Lawson

Liza Ellen performs as Liz Mikel (right) and Lady Dwarf (left) watch on.

The night was a warm glow. The mood was soft, the venue low-lit like a candle-filled bedroom. Local blues man Lucky Peterson provided the soundtrack on the piano; he played soft jazz with a creative infusion of something nearing the blues. Free chocolate-covered strawberries and wine heightened the intimate mood, and everyone was relaxed and loose by the time the poets took the stage.

They were all there, in the Blue Room at the Southside on Lamar lofts, for "Blue Mondays," an evolving art show that happens on the first Monday of every month. Every Monday is a different theme, and every Monday draws a unique crowd. Yesterday's theme: "Sex in D City."

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Dead White Zombies

Boning on our minds at Flesh World.

You're not a lone pervert: I initially read Fleshlight, too, when I saw that the progressive collective, Dead White Zombies, was up to another one of their "experimental theatre performance installation[s]" called Flesh World. As it turns out, that misinterpretation wasn't so far off, as there was in fact a fair bit of simulated sex. In case you hadn't heard, Dead White Zombies is a group of roughly 22 thespians and performance artists, headed by writer/director and self-proclaimed "Poo Pah Doo" Thomas Riccio, and it is not an understatement to suggest that their sui generis work is unlike anything else currently going on in Dallas. Something with zombies is going down in Oak Cliff - Is it a play? Is it performance art? Well, yes.

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Cosby promoted his social media presence with a video before the show.

As I settled into my seat at the Winspear on Saturday night, I found myself in conversation with a young woman next to me. She mentioned that her parents had bought a block of tickets but couldn't find anyone to use them. Strange, I said: Cosby's a legend.

Then again, I said, there seems to be some misunderstanding about what he does on stage nowadays. I don't think people know he's still doing pure comedy.

"I think they think he's transition into being ..."

She cut me off: "Dead?"

Cosby would have appreciated the timing, if not the idea. He is getting old, 74 now, a fact that plays a central role in his act. His age earns him respect few other performers might get, and on Saturday night it earned him a standing ovation before he even arrived at his first punchline.

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All photos by Catherine Downes

Not long ago, Dallas was graced with the fascinating costumed-innovations of the fans of Comic Con. Thanks to an adorable partnership between Master Chief and the Sand People of Star Wars, it was nearly impossible to imagine an event to top such fantastic work.

Well, kudos Dallas. This year's A-Kon, which always, always showcases great works of fandom, displayed some greatness in the likeness of Deadpool assassinating Loki, a gold-painted Lady C-3PO, and -- of course -- The Avengers.

Head over to the slide show to see the full round of shots from Catherine Downes, who may or may not have captured a Furry sex act, and check out our ten favorites below.

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Jeremy LeBlanc is all chicken.

The kids in the sweet, funny new play The Chicken Who Wasn't Chicken, running in Plano through Sunday, February 26, don't know how lucky they are. The script is a new one from Matt Lyle, a former Dallas writer and actor who went on to Second City's writing program in Chicago a few years ago and who now hosts the podcast variety show The City Life Supplement. The play's director is Jeff Swearingen, a gifted comedic actor who starred in two of Lyle's best plays,The Boxer and Hello Human Female. Swearingen now puts on shows with and for kids at Fun House Theatre and Film in Plano, where the chicken play premiered last night.

The kids are lucky because it's evident in their unself-conscious performances and snappy comic timing that they trust their director and understand how to deliver Lyle's fresh, off-kilter comedy. It's an all-youth cast and every young actor on the tiny stage at the Plano Children's Theatre space, even the tiniest chick in the yolk-yellow leotard, hits the punchlines like an old pro. They know how to pull off double-takes. They hold for laughs and don't step on each other's dialogue. That takes a lot of work and focus.

Lyle's plays are all heart and Chicken boils down to a simple love story complicated by a couple of baddies. Mike Chicken (Jeremy LeBlanc) is a video clerk and film buff who recommends his favorite movies, like the romantic A Coop with a View, to his customers. Mike has set his beak for pretty Polly (Kennedy Waterman) but he's too shy to tell her how he feels. Enter two bullies, a pig named Biff (Dalton Walker) and a frog named Ribbit (Jack Waterman), who taunt and tease Mike, trying to leave egg on his face. Mike's boss, Mr. Goat (Madeleine Norton), is no help as defense; he's an old goat who doesn't like to butt in.

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