The Stranger

(NIGHTLIFE) Recent entertainment at Can Can has included old-time string band the Tallboys (with a percussion section of a winsome young lady tap-dancing on a tiny plank floor) and the retro-apocryphal sounds of the Bad Things (featuring a surly dwarf beating a tambourine, drinking a beer, and intoning prose poetry). Tonight, the in-house dancers (bosomy, wearing frilly underwear) perform during the dinner hour; later, the Heavenly Spies ("espionage-à-trois" burlesque) take the stage. (Can Can, 94 Pike St, 652-0832. Free/all-ages before 10 pm, $10 after in show room, bar is free.) by Bethany Jean Clement

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(ART) Printmaker and sculptor Blake Haygood's specialty is a certain droll industrialism, and he calls his latest work—an installation of eight prints across which a gear-like creature explodes—Goodness Gracious. It is cause for exclamation when somebody gives good artists money. The Behnke Foundation awards two Northwest artists $15,000 each annually, and this year's winners are Barbara Robertson and Brian Murphy. But winners and nominees alike get a museum exhibition at TAM, and several, like Haygood, have made work especially for the occasion, so it's a survey worth driving for. (Tacoma Art Museum, 1701 Pacific Ave, 253-272-4258. Noon–5 pm, $7.50.) by Jen Graves

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(FILM) A delirious documentary portrait of Jack Smith, the filmmaker/photographer/flaming creature of the 1950s who once wrote, "Film critics are writers and they are hostile and uneasy in the presence of a visual phenomenon." Which is probably true. So let me just say this: You may think you understand camp aesthetics. You have read Susan Sontag's essay. But there is no more brilliant, participatory explication of camp than this film. (SIFF at Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave, 324-9996. 9 pm, $10.) by Annie Wagner

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(ROCK PARTY) Hell no, I'm not ashamed to write about my own party. Tonight's show at the Croc, a celebration of my 26th (sigh) birthday, features Speaker Speaker, Sean Nelson of Harvey Danger, the Pharmacy, Juhu Beach, and Spacesuit! Am I embarrassed to ask you to come, drink, dance, and celebrate with me? No way! There will be bands I like, people I like, and cupcakes I like—all crammed into a club I like. Why would you wanna miss that? (Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave, 441-5611. 9 pm, $6, 21+.) by Megan Seling

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(TRUE HIPHOP) By the middle of the '90s, every hiphop producer was imitating Pete Rock's style of echoing looped horn sets, piano fragments, and floating chants. His sound could be heard on the streets of Paris (Supreme NTM's Paris Sous les Bombes), Tokyo (DJ Krush's Big City Lover), and New York City (Queen Latifah's Black Reign). To this day, his impact on hiphop can be felt in the music of local producers like Vitamin D and DJ Sabzi. Pete Rock is the number-one soul brother. (War Room, 722 E Pike St, 328-7666. 9 pm, free, 21+.) by Charles Mudede

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(THEATER) A few facts about this rarely produced Shakespeare play: There is a hothead named Faulconbridge the Bastard, eye burning with a hot poker, excommunicated nobles, and a murderous monk. A few facts about this kick-ass production: The all-female cast is (mostly) bitchin', Rosa Joshi directs with an ear for dialogue and an eye for clarity, and the set looks like a bloodstained metal checkerboard. (Capitol Hill Arts Center, 1621 12th Ave, 800-838-3006. Thurs–Sat at 7:30 pm, Sun at 2 pm, $15, through June 4.) by Brendan Kiley

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