Barracuda has gone belly up. The Red River music venue announced via social media that it is closing its doors after five years.
"The time has come for Barracuda Club to bid adieu. From the incredible artists to our amazing staff, we thank you for making us part of your lives for that last 5 years," the statement reads.
It goes on to invite fans to share a memory using the hashtag #barrys4ever and purchase remaining merch, the proceeds of which will go to the Austin Justice Coalition.
In an interview with the Austin Chronicle, Barracuda's senior talent buyer Dan Holloway blamed rising rents and the COVID-19 pandemic as the reason for the shutter. As the Chronicle points out, the one-two punch of SXSW's cancellation and the shutdown was too much for the venue.
History, it seems, is repeating itself on that stretch of East Seventh and Red River streets. Over the past decade, that small stretch of a block has seen near-constant turnover, with Beauty Bar, Holy Mountain, Red 7, and Red Eye Fly among the music clubs who have closed their doors. (Barracuda took over the former Red 7 space in 2015 after its owners were unable to reach an agreement with its landlords.)
The loss of SXSW, and its $355 million boon to the local economy, coupled with the uncertainty around when patrons will feel comfortable attending a live music show has left venues across the Live Music Capital of the World facing a dire future. In late May, the Austin City Council approved two resolutions asking the city manager to explore creation of a program that, among other things, could potentially buy private venues or make city-owned buildings available for live music and other creative purposes.
City Manager Spencer Cronk was supposed to deliver his initial findings during the city council's June 11 meeting, though it does not appear on tomorrow's agenda.
For a series whose first two films made over $5 billion combined worldwide, Avatar has a curious lack of widespread cultural impact. The films seem to exist in a sort of vacuum, popping up for their run in theaters and then almost as quickly disappearing from the larger movie landscape. The third of five planned movies, Avatar: Fire and Ash, is finally being released three years after its predecessor, Avatar: The Way of Water.
The new film finds the main duo, human-turned-Na’vi Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and his native Na’vi wife, Neytiri (Zoë Saldaña), still living with the water-loving Metkayina clan led by Ronal (Kate Winslet) and Tonowari (Cliff Curtis). While Jake and Neytiri still play a big part, the focus shifts significantly to their two surviving children, Lo’ak (Britain Dalton) and Tuk (Trinity Jo-Li Bliss), as well as two they’ve essentially adopted, Kiri (Sigourney Weaver) and Spider (Jack Champion).
Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang), who lives on in a fabricated Na’vi body, is still looking for revenge on Jake, and he finds help in the form of the Mangkwan Clan (aka the Ash People), led by Varang (Oona Chaplin). Quaritch’s access to human weapons and the Mangkwan’s desire for more power on the moon known as Pandora make them a nice match, and they team up to try to dominate the other tribes.
Aside from the story, the main point of making the films for writer/director James Cameron is showing off his considerable technical filmmaking prowess, and that is on full display right from the start. The characters zoom around both the air and sea on various creatures with which they’ve bonded, providing Cameron and his team with plenty of opportunities to put the audience right there with them. Cameron’s preferred 3D viewing method makes the experience even more immersive, even if the high frame rate he uses makes some scenes look too realistic for their own good.
The story, as it has been in the first two films, is a mixed bag. Cameron and co-writers Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver start off well, having Jake, Neytiri, and their kids continue mourning the death of Neteyam (Jamie Flatters) in the previous film. The struggle for power provides an interesting setup, but Cameron and his team seem to drag out the conflict for much too long. This is the longest Avatar film yet, and you really start to feel it in the back half as the filmmakers add on a bunch of unnecessary elements.
Worse than the elongated story, though, is the hackneyed dialogue that Cameron, Jaffa, and Silver have come up with. Almost every main character is forced to spout lines that diminish the importance of the events around them. The writers seemingly couldn’t resist trying to throw in jokes despite them clashing with the tone of the scenes in which they’re said. Combined with the somewhat goofy nature of the Na’vi themselves (not to mention talking whales), the eye-rolling words detract from any excitement or emotion the story builds up.
A pre-movie behind-the-scenes short film shows how the actors act out every scene in performance capture suits, lending an authenticity to their performances. Still, some performers are better than others, with Saldaña, Worthington, and Lang standing out. It’s more than a little weird having Weaver play a 14-year-old girl, but it works relatively well. Those who actually get to show their real faces are collectively fine, but none of them elevate the film overall.
There are undoubtedly some Avatar superfans for which Fire and Ash will move the larger story forward in significant ways. For anyone else, though, the film is a demonstration of both the good and bad sides of Cameron. As he’s proven for 40 years, his visuals are (almost) beyond reproach, but the lack of a story that sticks with you long after you’ve left the theater keeps the film from being truly memorable.
