The Stranger

This restaurant is so far away from my house that it might as well be in the actual Shanghai. But I would happily travel to the actual Shanghai just for Chiang's Gourmet's homemade pan-fried noodles. I would travel to Shanghai on the back of a bad-tempered donkey. These noodles are my favorite food. They are chewy and salty and amazing. Get them with chicken. (Chiang's Gourmet, 7845 Lake City Way NE, 527-8888. 11:30 am–9:30 pm.) by Lindy West

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It is what it says it is: a full screening of 1965's musical classic The Sound of Music—featuring nuns and Nazis, bitchy baronesses and lonely goatherds, adorable Julie Andrews and swoon-worthy Christopher Plummer—where the audience is actively encouraged to sing along. To help facilitate the group-sing, each song's lyrics are featured onscreen as subtitles. Warning: The screening is preceded by a 20-minute "interactive screenings for dummies" mini-lecture that you should stay in the lobby and drink through. (5th Avenue Theatre, 1308 Fifth Ave, www.5thavenue.org. 7 pm, $18–$25.) by David Schmader

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At Crémant's weekend brunch—retardedly delicious; not that expensive; just go, and get the pork belly—there is this hot chocolate. The best hot chocolate. Chef Scott Emerick heats fancy milk and adds fancy chocolate, and a whole bunch of it comes to you in a white ceramic teapot that looks like a snowball. A SNOWBALL FILLED WITH CREAMY GODDAMN MAGIC! Sip with a friend and hold hands. (Crémant, 1432 34th Ave, 322-4600. 10 am–2 pm, $6.) by Lindy West

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Finally Punk are four young ladies from Austin, Texas, dedicated to keeping the "revolution girl style now!" turning at a frantic 45 spins per second. Their riot-ready punk rock is loud, brash, and unpretentiously fun, their songs blasted out short and sweet, and their ripping cover of "Negative Creep" easily out-sassed by original jams like "Missile" and "Boyfriend Application." With ideal local support from TacocaT, Flexions, and Talbot Tagora. (Vera Project, Seattle Center, 956-8372. 4 pm, $6, all ages.) by Eric Grandy

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Putting a long-overdue honky-tonk spin on the classic Pygmalion, 1984's Rhinestone stars Dolly Parton as a boobalicious Henrietta Higgins and Sylvester Stallone as the guy she has to turn into a bona fide country singer—and if she fails, she's got to have sex with Ron Leibman! This movie is terrible, and tonight we'll be watching it all the way through, hosted and casually annotated by me. (Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave, www.brownpapertickets.com. 7 pm, $7.) by David Schmader

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21 Landings is a looped video of some sort of flying animal—Is it a monster? Is it entirely biological?—trying to land on the surface of an alien environment. The stop-motion animation is from the creature's perspective, so all we can see is something leglike, and all we can hear is a whooshing noise. This is a singular opportunity to wander into a movie theater—it plays all day, for free—and sit in the dark with a few other people and contemplate something not of this world. (Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave, 829-7863. 10 am–5 pm, free.) by Paul Constant

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The first line of Kurt Schwitters's 35-minute-long performance poem, which is almost never performed, is "Fümms bö wö tää zää Uu." Now that's Dada: self-murdering nonsense. (Schwitters was his own outpost in Dada, staying marooned in Hanover, making his house into a curated heap of trash.) Actress and vocalist Kristen Loree will perform the complete text against a backdrop of Jack Ox's paintings. The paintings, based on Ox's translation of the poem, run continuously for 800 feet. Boomboom, boomboom, boomboom! (As Tzara would say.) (Chapel Performance Space, 4649 Sunnyside Ave N, 789-1939. 7:30 pm, $5–$15 donation.) by Jen Graves

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