You could feel the frisson in the air inside the darkened theaters of this year’s Miami International Film Fest. For many in the attending audiences, the onscreen themes of a besieged middle class amid insurgent revolutions, endemic civic corruption, and economic crisis weren’t abstract concepts. Those were precisely what led…
You Can Call Him Shlmiel, Shlub, Shmo, or Shnook Just don’t call him Pancho! Francisco Alvarado’s article “MIA: A User’s Manual” (March 13) was excellent, with the exception of the curious fact that only one individual, Norman Abril, was identified by religion — in my opinion unnecessarily so. Furthermore when…
Cutting Hollywood deals often involves massaging the tender egos of overgrown children. The independent film world is much the same, laughs Krysanne Katsoolis, except it involves actual toddlers. As senior vice president of acquisitions and co-productions for Wellspring — one of America’s most prominent indie distributors — Katsoolis is used…
I Cheat Death Therefore I Am They’re passionate in ways you’ll never understand: While Tristram Korten’s article about free-dive champions Pipin Ferreras and Audrey Mestre had tragic overtones, I did enjoy reading it (“The Last Deep Dive,” March 6). The photography on the first couple of pages was remarkable. Being…
There are times when Miami Beach smells like Mombasa, on the Indian Ocean in Kenya. A warmish, dampish camel-flop smell, an old horse blanket, or last year’s sweat socks, curled and grimed from 10 months in the trunk of your Toyota. As Johnny Ruiz, the World Boxing Association Heavyweight Champion…
Miami Beach’s New Organized Crime It may not be Al Capone’s thugs, but it’s still extortion: I was glad to see New Times had the guts to print Rebecca Wakefield’s story about the corrupt taxi industry (“Cabbie’s Crusade,” February 27). I think this “buying of the doors” involving cab drivers…
It started as a quiet weekday evening in Havana like any other, but on this night last November, the city was jolted into action. Squads of Cuban police suddenly began cordoning off La Rampa, the main drag in front of the Charlie Chaplin movie theater. Then they turned to the…
It’s All About Ego The subject may be Cuba, but the object is self-promotion: After reading Kirk Nielsen’s article about Jorge Mas Santos and the Cuban American National Foundation (“Dialogue: The Final Frontier,” February 20) I had to cry me a river over the transformation of those low-life Cuban extremists…
For any crusading liberal of the Watergate era, the only thing worse than earning a spot on President Nixon’s notorious “enemies list,” was not appearing on the list at all. It was troubling enough to find that you were one of the elite so hated by Richard Nixon that his…
Love and Hate and Argentina I may be a female Cuban American, but I sure sound like a pistol-packin’ redneck: I was thoroughly disgusted by Javier Andrade’s article about the February 8 soccer match between the Argentine and U.S. national teams (“Argentina 1; U.S. 0,” February 13). Mr. Andrade began…
After nearly twenty minutes of tortuous verbal gymnastics, Jay-Z was growing audibly tired of his on-air interrogation. But his radio interviewer, Angie Martinez, showed no signs of flagging. Her afternoon program on New York City’s WQHT-FM (97.1) was locked in a summertime ratings war with the Clear Channel-owned WWPR-FM (105.1)…
Give Unto Others as They Give Unto You For Don Peebles that means … Screw You! It isn’t common that a simple two-word headline rightly expresses the theme and subtext of a feature story, but New Times did just that with “Beating Whitey,” Francisco Alvarado’s article about developer Don Peebles…
Camilo and Me Though it happened a while ago, it was something you don’t forget: Tristram Korten should be commended for his in-depth, thoroughly researched, and well-written article concerning Camilo Padreda (“A Friend Indeed,” January 30). Credit should also be given to New Times editor Jim Mullin for continually allowing…
Three years is not a long time. It takes decades — half-centuries even — to measure the careers of such musical treasures as singers Celia Cruz and Ibrahim Ferrer, pianist Bebo Valdes, and percussionists Tito Puente and Mongo Santamaria. Three years is not a long time. Yet the passing of…
Like any burgeoning hip-hop mogul, David Ross knows how to turn on the bluster. “You want to know my plans for Miami?” he chuckles to Kulchur. “We’re going to kick everybody’s ass! Is that clear enough for you?” Idle boast or not, the music industry is paying heed. As Clear…
I Got 200 on Brown Dog Easy money that Brandon goes down hard and bloody: I would put down some serious blood money to watch writer Brandon Dane vs. Brown Dog (“Dogfight Club,” January 23). I know he hasn’t been bred to it, like the poor dog, but maybe he…
The new program director of WMIB-FM (103.5) hasn’t slept in three weeks. In fact he hasn’t even left that radio station’s Miramar studio. Instead he’s manned the controls there around the clock, not even pausing to eat, all part of WMIB’s New Year’s Day format change and a promise to…
Your Weakness, My Strength The Herald and WLRN, imperfect singly, are perfect together: To learn from Rebecca Wakefield’s article that cross-marketing opportunities could drive an alliance between public-radio WRLN-FM and the Miami Herald is no surprise (“Radio Free Herald,” January 16). WLRN has never shown any willingness to push the…
It’s never a good idea to visit a vampire by day. Even if the meeting takes place indoors, shielded from the sun whose rays would vaporize the night crawler. Even if the mirrors are covered, in this case with flyers and posters from nights gone by announcing The Church, the…
The Wonders of Everglades National Park Tourists as gator bait by day, billions and billions of stars by night: As Mike Clary noted in “Happy on the Outside” (January 9), Everglades National Park truly is an underappreciated treasure. My wife and I have lived here for more than 25 years…
Sometime Spam Allstar, redheaded guitarist Adam Zimmon, recently took issue with the media coverage of Miami’s favorite processed beat liberator, DJ Le Spam and his merry avant-jam band. “People always write about the cultural stuff,” Zimmon complains of articles on the Allstars and their ecstatic site of multicultural communion, the…
Steve Satterwhite, the photographer, and I recently saw Gangs of New York at 11:30 in the morning at the CocoWalk 16 in Coconut Grove. Gangs, director Martin Scorsese’s great American telenovella, had been getting the full media treatment for a week prior, Orwellian slavering for Christmas product from Miramax, and…
