Slinky Slithers

The real story of Miller Outdoor Theatre: Inside Houston's outdoor artsinstitution

Cissy Segall Davis, Miller Outdoor Theatre managing director
Photo by David W. Clements
A scene from the Miller Outdoor Theatre's early days.

While constricting neckties and ankle-breaking stilettos seem to be the uniform du jour for some highbrow art performances, Houston concertgoers should give thanks to a venue where fashion is meaningless and comfort is king. A land of lawn seating and picnic baskets, where vino is optional, and encouraged.

But don't let the informal ambiance fool you. If it's not good enough for the best stages around the country, you won't find it at Miller Outdoor Theatre, either.

Since its dedication as Miller Memorial Theatre in 1923, the venue and 7.5 acres of greens have served as the country's only proscenium theater of its kind. It presented over 140 professional performances to 431,000 people last year, free of charge. That's more than some of the indoor theaters in town.

Back in its formative years, Miller was built as a permanent bandstand flanked by 20 limestone columns (now part of the Mecom Rockwell Colonnade Fountain across from Hotel ZaZa) hosting pageants, sports radio broadcasts and later accommodating the Houston Symphony's first outdoor concert in August of 1941, drawing an estimated crowd of 15,000 even with temperatures reaching 100 degrees Fahrenheit.

It wasn't until 1952 that a city official pointed out that Miller Outdoor Theatre, not Miller Memorial, was the intended name. It's unsure of how the misunderstanding happened.

Cissy Segall Davis, Miller Outdoor Theatre's managing director, has been involved with the venue's activities since 1979 while working at Theatre Under the Stars. Today, she has quite an arduous but richly rewarding responsibility: Working with local arts organizations to program an eight-month performance season and finding touring groups to fill in any cultural and artistic gaps.

"What you see when you look out is an audience that reflects Houston's diversity, including all age, ethnic and socio-economic groups, all sitting together watching the same show at the same time," Segall Davis said. "Anyone can come here to see great performances totally free of charge.

"This is a gift and we are very lucky the city invests in this facility and program."

The Miller Theatre Advisory Board (MTAB) — a 21-member governing group appointed by the Mayor and approved by City Council with five chairs designated for Rice University, University of Houston, Texas Southern University, Houston Independent School District and South Main Alliance — administers a grants program for Houston’s finest performing arts and community-based organizations to perform free of charge at Miller Theatre. Roughly, 85 percent of what's on stage is from these Houston organizations.

And with monies primarily coming from the Hotel Occupancy Tax (HOT) funds through the Houston Arts Alliance (HAA), there is a strong desire to ensure the programs promote tourism and are of the highest artistic merit.

Working with Houston non-profit groups to schedule out the season, underwriting is available for up to 50 percent of the production costs. Segall Davis and her team assess issues of quality, diversity, broad popular appeal and cost effectiveness, followed by a thorough evaluation of the performance.

For touring groups, the funding process is different as HOT funds can only be granted to organizations that operate within city limits.

"This is such a fabulous venue, so well equipped, that the Miller Board wanted to augment the schedule of free performances by Houston’s performing arts groups with outstanding regional, national and international touring artists and groups," Segall Davis said. "The board takes on the responsibility of raising funds to cover these costs."

The Aluminum Show, a touring troupe from Israel, opens the Miller Outdoor Theatre season this Thursday and Friday at 8 p.m.

Think Texas big aluminum slinkys slithering about the stage, creating a sparkling pseudo sci-fi family-friendly world of industrial-meets illusion and fantasy. Using found materials from factories, dancers tell an all-familiar story of a young futuristic machine determined to find its parents.

Spoiler alert: portions of the show are interactive.

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Movie Review

Meta-comedy remake Anaconda coils itself into an unfunny mess

Photo by Matt Grace

Jack Black and Paul Rudd in Anaconda.

In Hollywood’s never-ending quest to take advantage of existing intellectual property, seemingly no older movie is off limits, even if the original was not well-regarded. That’s certainly the case with 1997’s Anaconda, which is best known for being a lesser entry on the filmography of Ice Cube and Jennifer Lopez, as well as some horrendous accent work by Jon Voight.

The idea behind the new meta-sequel Anaconda is arguably a good one. Four friends — Doug (Jack Black), Griff (Paul Rudd), Claire (Thandiwe Newton), and Kenny (Steve Zahn) — who made homemade movies when they were teenagers decide to remake Anaconda on a shoestring budget. Egged on by Griff, an actor who can’t catch a break, the four of them pull together enough money to fly down to Brazil, hire a boat, and film a script written by Doug.

Naturally, almost nothing goes as planned in the Amazon, including losing their trained snake and running headlong into a criminal enterprise. Soon enough, everything else takes second place to the presence of a giant anaconda that is stalking them and anyone else who crosses its path.

Written and directed by Tom Gormican, with help from co-writer Kevin Etten, the film is designed to be an outrageous comedy peppered with laugh-out-loud moments that cover up the fact that there’s really no story. That would be all well and good … if anything the film had to offer was truly funny. Only a few scenes elicit any honest laughter, and so instead the audience is fed half-baked jokes, a story with no focus, and actors who ham it up to get any kind of reaction.

The biggest problem is that the meta-ness of the film goes too far. None of the core four characters possess any interesting traits, and their blandness is transferred over to the actors playing them. And so even as they face some harrowing situations or ones that could be funny, it’s difficult to care about anything they do since the filmmakers never make the basic effort of making the audience care about them.

It’s weird to say in a movie called Anaconda, but it becomes much too focused on the snake in the second half of the film. If the goal is to be a straight-up comedy, then everything up to and including the snake attacks should be serving that objective. But most of the time the attacks are either random or moments when the characters are already scared, and so any humor that could be mined all but disappears.

Black and Rudd are comedy all-stars who can typically be counted on to elevate even subpar material. That’s not the case here, as each only scores on a few occasions, with Black’s physicality being the funniest thing in the movie. Newton is not a good fit with this type of movie, and she isn’t done any favors by some seriously bad wigs. Zahn used to be the go-to guy for funny sidekicks, but he brings little to the table in this role.

Any attempt at rebooting/remaking an old piece of IP should make a concerted effort to differentiate itself from the original, and in that way, the new Anaconda succeeds. Unfortunately, that’s its only success, as the filmmakers can never find the right balance to turn it into the bawdy comedy they seemed to want.

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Anaconda is now playing in theaters.

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Movie Review

Meta-comedy remake Anaconda coils itself into an unfunny mess