Entertainment
San Diego's renovated symphony hall looks great, but how does it sound?
There are many reasons for the current rage in renovating concert halls. It is usually cheaper than building something new. The science, as well as the art, of acoustics has advanced. Renovation can be a good way to save a historic hall. But an argument can also be made for simply starting over.
In the case of San Diego Symphony, starting over might have seemed the best option. No American orchestra of San Diego’s merit or promise under its rising star music director, Rafael Payare, had been stuck in so dismaying a venue as Symphony Towers.
Buried in a bland mixed-use skyscraper in the dreary Financial District downtown, an aging, if glamorous, 1929 movie palace with rotten acoustics long served as the San Diego Symphony’s disagreeable home. The first job the orchestra had in giving concerts was to raise your spirits after your having traipsed through a seemingly bureaucratic building in a neighborhood dead at night and on weekends when concerts are given.
But miraculously, the San Diego Symphony has made the dreary become a destination with its renovation by architectural firm HGA and acoustician Paul Scarbrough. The Symphony Towers have turned astonishingly welcoming. The acoustics shine in what had come to be known as Copley Symphony Hall, now named Jacobs Music Center. Even the neighborhood has picked up considerably as the new hall encourages more restaurants to remain open. Parking is easy.
The Jacobs entrance puts you directly in an actual concert hall foyer. The first thing you encounter is a superb artisan bakery where coffee, pastries, sandwiches and the like are half the price and four times the quality of the catering at the Music Center in Los Angeles. Perhaps a few who come to the bakery (which has regular hours) to pick up a loaf of sourdough will be tempted to buy a concert ticket too. The hall is spruced up with new seats and looks lovely.
The one visual downer is the stage, which is no longer wood. It’s covered in what appears to be acoustic material, giving it a cool industrial look that doesn’t reflect colored stage lighting as pleasingly as it does the orchestral sound, which has a combination of warmth and clarity.
Giving the musicians a couple of weeks to settle in (they need, in any new acoustic, a good year or more), I heard the Sunday matinee concluding the second week of regular symphony concerts. Payare’s program, moreover, demonstrated both how the orchestra could come across in a traditional Beethoven concerto as well as in an orchestral showpiece.
The program was to have been Brahms’ Violin Concerto and Schoenberg’s tonally kaleidoscopic, over-the-top early tone poem “Pelleas und Melisande.” Payare recently and spectacularly recorded the latter with the Montreal Symphony, where he also is music director. But when the young violinist Sergey Khachatryan was unable to get his visa approved, a last-minute change was made with the seasoned Pinchas Zukerman in Beethoven’s Violin Concerto.
Violinist Pinchas Zukerman, a late substitute, and music director Rafael Payare performing Beethoven’s Violin Concerto with the San Diego Symphony in Jacobs Music Center.
(Sandy Huffaker / San Diego Symphony)
At 76, the Israeli violinist is more commonly encountered as a conductor, but he made a strong impression at the amplified Hollywood Bowl last summer playing a Mozart concerto with the L.A. Phil led by Zubin Mehta. His tone may not be as strong as it once was, and he needed time to warm up at Jacobs, but he brought a controlled elegance and depth to Beethoven.
From my seat in the balcony there was a refined presence to his tone and a sharp immediacy to every section in the orchestra. When Zukerman returned onstage for an encore, he began by speaking (clearly heard in the hall without a microphone) about the meaning of Brahms’ beloved lullaby.
“I’m hurting,” he said. “The world is upside down. Enough is enough. Bibi!” The only way he knew to calm down an impossible situation, he explained, was to play this lullaby, which he did very softly, with the kind of shocking beauty that only a great artist in an ideally sensitive acoustic could movingly capture.
Schoenberg’s “Pelleas und Melisande” was written 1903 by a 29-year-old composer on the verge of revolutionizing music but still finding his way out of 19th century romanticism. The composer, whose 150th birthday last month is being celebrated this season, employs a huge orchestra for a flamboyant palette of instrumental colors and effects in a vast array of dramatic gestures. A vital storyteller, he thrillingly illustrates Maurice Maeterlinck’s original play, as thoughtfully used surtitles made especially apparent.
So, for his part, did Payare, who has a flare for Schoenberg. He is a conductor of considerable grace and considerable swagger, making the two go unusually yet inexorably together. That meant broad sweeping gestures illuminated tiny details and bursts of wild excitement stayed controlled.
It was a test of not only the orchestra but also the acoustics. Clarity here became the dominant trait. There was neither the glare in high notes that mildly plague the New York Philharmonic’s restored David Geffen Hall, for which Scarbrough also was acoustician, nor quite the richness of Geffen’s base. But Jacobs expertly handles ear-crushing climaxes as well as it does a lullaby. The hall should, over time, open up sonically and, with luck, mellow.
For now, though, it is a place made for excitement. All that’s left is for San Diegans to wake up and smell the coffee on the way in and divine the music inside. On but the second week in the hall, too many of the 1,831 seats were empty.
Movie Reviews
Bandar Movie Review: Bobby Deol roars in Anurag Kashyap’s unsettling legal thriller that refuses to spoon-feed
Name: Bandar
Director: Anurag Kashyap
Cast: Bobby Deol, Sanya Malhotra, Sapna Pabbi, Saba Azad, Jitendra Joshi, Raj B Shetty
Writer: Sudip Sharma, Abhishek Banerjee
Rating: 3.5/5
Plot:
Bandar follows Sameer Mehra’s character, essayed by Bobby Deol, a fading star who is desperately clinging to his past glory. Just as he attempts to rebuild his life and finds solace in a new relationship, his world comes crashing down. A former girlfriend files a heinous allegation against him, dragging him into a vicious, high-profile legal battle. Written by Sudip Sharma and Abhishek Banerjee, the film moves away from standard Bollywood courtroom setups. Instead, it dives straight into the murky waters of social media trials, public perception, and a sluggish judicial system where the truth gets buried under layers of gray.
What works:
Known for his chaotic energy, Anurag Kashyap takes a remarkably mature and controlled approach here. He avoids sensationalizing a highly sensitive topic, choosing instead to focus on the psychological claustrophobia of the protagonist. The prison sequences are exceptionally well-shot. They create a suffocating, raw atmosphere that makes you feel the weight of the character’s confinement. The script successfully avoids preachy, black-and-white monologues. It bravely forces the audience to confront their own biases regarding modern-day public trials and the digital judge-and-jury culture.
What doesn’t:
Clocking in at nearly two hours and twenty minutes, Bandar feels heavily weighed down in the second half. The narrative stretches thin, and a few subplots demand too much patience, making you wish for a tighter edit. The film stubbornly refuses to take a definitive moral stance or offer a neat resolution. While film enthusiasts might appreciate the complexity, mainstream viewers looking for a clear-cut ending or emotional payoff might walk away feeling detached and frustrated.
Performances:
- Bobby Deol is the beating heart of this film. Stripping away the massive macho swagger and menacing villainy of his recent hits, he delivers a deeply vulnerable, understated performance. He plays Samar with a mix of arrogance, confusion, and raw helplessness, proving his immense range.
- Sanya Malhotra anchors her screen time with her trademark reliability, turning in a grounded and impactful performance.
- Saba Azad and Sapna Pabbi excel in their respective roles, bringing genuine nuance to characters that could have easily been sidelined.
- Jitendra Joshi is an absolute scene-stealer, commanding your attention every single time he steps into the frame.
- Indrajith Sukumaran and Raj B Shetty are absolute show stealers with their raw acting.
Final Verdict:
Bandar is an unsettling, morally complex thriller that refuses to spoon-feed its audience. It isn’t a comfortable watch, nor does it try to be. While the sluggish pacing in the second half prevents it from being an absolute masterpiece, it is worth a watch for Bobby Deol’s spectacular acting reinvention and Anurag Kashyap’s gritty, thought-provoking storytelling.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of Pinkvilla. No statement in this article is intended to defame, harm, or malign any individual or entity.
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Kathy Hilton will no longer be the grand marshal of West Hollywood’s pride parade.
The city and WeHo Pride on Wednesday released a joint statement, announcing that “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” star would no longer serve as the Grand Marshal Icon for the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade. The event is scheduled for Sunday.
“After thoughtful discussions, the City of West Hollywood, the WeHo Pride production team, and Kathy Hilton have determined that the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade will not designate a Grand Marshal Icon honoree,” read the statement.
The decision comes less than a week after Hilton was announced. That May 28 announcement was met with swift backlash from the LGBTQ+ community and allies, who called out Hilton’s ties to President Trump and alleged MAGA-leaning politics. Critics also cited accusations that the socialite had used a homophobic slur while on a trip with other cast members of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” an action she has previously denied.
In their joint statement, West Hollywood and the WeHo Pride team expressed their appreciation for “the respectful and sincere dialogue” around both the event and the “role and significance” of Pride honorees.
“The City of West Hollywood has always believed that Pride belongs to the community,” the joint statement said. “Since its earliest days, Pride has served as both a celebration and a platform for activism, visibility, resilience, and the ongoing pursuit of equality, dignity, and justice for LGBTQ+ people. … These conversations reflect the passion people have for WeHo Pride and underscore the importance of ensuring that WeHo Pride continues to honor the history, values, and diverse voices of the LGBTQ+ community.”
In a statement, Hilton expressed gratitude for being considered for grand marshal and reaffirmed her commitment to the LGBTQ+ community and causes.
“My reason for wanting to be involved in this year’s WeHo Pride weekend was simple: to celebrate, support, and share in the joy of a community that means a great deal to so many people,” Hilton said. “Pride is, and always will be, about celebrating and uplifting LGBTQ+ voices, experiences, and achievements. … My support for the community and WeHo Pride is unwavering.”
She also mentioned several queer advocacy organizations and events she has supported over the years, including GLAAD, the Elton John AIDS Foundation, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, Dr. Mathilde Krim, God’s Love We Deliver and Project Angel Food.
The latest Pride-related dust-up follows the abrupt cancellation of the Long Beach Pride Festival in May. The city’s Pride Parade took place as planned.
Both snafus have occurred as conservative politicians and advocates continue to attack LGBTQ+ rights and visibility nationwide. Some Republican governors have even pushed for conservative alternatives to Pride month festivities. A recent Gallup poll has found that after years of steady gains, support for marriage equality and same-sex relationships has slipped, particularly among Republicans.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Travolta’s “Propeller: One-Way Night Coach” is One for the Ages — All Ages
Back in the good ol’days — the ’90s — John Travolta would love to get off the topic of “Michael,” “Pulp Fiction” or “Get Shorty” in interviews with film journalists like me and regale us with how utterly besotted he had been with his first flying experience, how that drove his passion for piloting and buying planes and airfield-adjacent luxury houses.
He didn’t even seem to mind having to move house when this or that development balked at him flying his Boeing 707 out of there on the way to locations.
Travolta would tell any journalist who asked that he was writing a kid-friendly book, “Propeller: One Way Night Coach,” based on his first flights as a child in old propeller driven airliners — cheap red-eye overnight treks with too many connections for your average jet age traveller to tolerate.
I remember picking up the book when it came out later in the ’90s — at an airport gift shop — and thinking “Well, that’s as cute as I figured.”
And now, decades later and trapped in the B-movie hell of his post “Gotti” career, Travolta’s turned that cute book into the most delightful, fanciful and colorful bon bon of a movie.
“One Way Night Coach” is a child’s fantasy of flight and flying the way it used to be — with pristine, uncrowded, futuristic airports, an early ’60s era of jets and prop planes with over-uniformed stewardesses in white gloves, the days “Back before every Joe Sweatsock could wedge himself behind a lunch tray and jet off to Raleigh-Durham,” as Sideshow Bob memorably sneered on “The Simpsons’.”
It’s a fictionalized account of Travolta’s childhood about an only child (at least two Travolta siblings have bit parts in this movie) of a never-made-it/never-will actress/single-mom (Kelly Eviston-Quinnett) who indulges her aviation-obsessed eight-year-old with a cheap cross-country overnight flight.
Little Jeff (Clark Shotwell) will revel in almost every Idlewild to Pittsburgh to Dayton to Chicago to Kansas City to Denver and Los Angeles minute. He strolls into the cockpit to meet pilots, charms the stewardesses and checks out the sleeping bunks on the TWA Lockheed Super Constellation, loving even the delays if not the Chicken Cordon Bleu he’s offered on legs of the journey that offer a meal.
And as he’s an observant child, he comments (Travolta narrates) on his 50ish mother’s vamping and posing, her choice of cigarettes (Newports) and drinks, the solo traveling men whose attention she pursues and earns.
“I was her best audience,” adult Jeff remembers of the mother who’d read him plays as bedtime stories and delusionally hopes that this trip to Los Angeles might be her “big break” even though she’s pushing 50.
“Hollywood called,” she’d explain about their overnight cheap flight arrangements to ticket agents and crew. “They told me to take the next flight!”
At every turn, Jeff meets or sees kindness — stewardesses who indulge his many questions and bump them up to first class on the mostly-empty planes, a captain who fixes his toy model of a Constellation, a mentally ill flyer who flips out but is calmed by a flight attendant who isn’t overworked and frazzled in jet-powered tin-can jammed with Joe and Jane Sweatsocks who think nothing of traveling in their pajamas.
Normally, I cringe at pictures this reliant on voice-over narration. I recoil from stars who populate their picture with Sandler etc. offspring. But “Propeller” is unfailingly sweet and never cloying.
Sure, it’s fictionalized. But if you’ve followed Travolta’s life and career, a lot of him is in this — his raptoruous engagement with flying, an indulged child who developed a taste for fine food and creature comforts, a mother who was his guiding star as an actor.
I get why there are less adoring reviews than mine floating around “Propeller.” It’s unfailingly sweet. Mom’s man-hunting is seriously dated. This TWA tale is decorated with Gershwin’s majestic “Rhapsody in Blue” — United Airlines’ signature tune. And Travolta’s been around long enough for recent generations to come up and not feel a connection to the “Saturday Night Fever/Get Shorty” star whose career has fallen off and life has been visited by too much tragedy.
But I’d hate to be seated next to anybody who doesn’t appreciate this adorable, pristine and nearly perfect aviation fantasy on any flight, much less an overnight one.
Rating: TV-PG
Cast: Clark Shotwell, Kelly Eviston-Quinnett, Ellen Travolta, Ella Beau Travolta, Olga Hoffmann and John Travolta.
Credits: Scripted and directed by John Travolta, based on his book. An Apple TV+ release.
Running time: 1:01
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