The Stranger

Seattle bands Throw Me the Statue, Telekinesis, and Say Hi have all released good-to-fucking-great indie-rock records in the last year or so. Throw Me the Statue's Moonbeams is a bedroom-pop masterpiece full of precisely illustrative lyricism, deft instrumentation, and terribly catchy melodies, and Say Hi's Oohs & Aahs is a winning realization of the band's sometimes too-precious songwriting quirks. Telekinesis, the drummer-led project of Michael Benjamin Lerner, is the newest of the bunch; his self-titled, Chris Walla–produced debut is a fine collection of sunny, classicist pop rock. (Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave, www.the crocodile.com. 8 pm, $10, 21+.) by Eric Grandy

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Over the past decade and a half, the San Francisco–based extravaganza Trannyshack has become synonymous with state-of-the-art psycho drag. (Think cannibal zombies, onstage abortions, and battling brides of Satan.) Tonight brings another Seattle installment, cohosted by traveling Trannyshacker Heklina and hometown horror Ursula Android, featuring performances by Jackie Hell, Ade, Sylvia O'Stayformore, Felicia Fellatio, and many more. If all goes well, all minds will be properly blown/fucked. (Chop Suey, 1325 E Madison St, 324-8000. 9 pm, $12, 21+.) by David Schmader

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Somehow, playwrights Marilyn Campbell and Curt Columbus managed to shorten Dostoyevsky's masterpiece (you know it's true: fuck The Brothers Karamazov) into a suspenseful 90-minute play, and the adaptation doesn't feel like anything has been omitted. It's film noir taken to its seedy extremes: Galen Joseph Osier's greasy, guilt-ridden Raskolnikov is basically a poor grad student who starts to believe he has power over life and death. Can the bumbling Detective Porfiry crack the case—and save Raskolnikov from himself—before it's too late? You'll leave the theater wishing the play had been twice as long. (Intiman Theater, 201 Mercer St, 269-1900. 2 pm, $10–$42.) by Paul Constant

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I can't imagine a more shocking, risky mainstream comedy than Observe and Report will be released this year: Seth Rogen's Ronnie Barnhardt is the kind of racist, mentally unhinged gun nut who eventually snaps and commits a horrific mass murder/suicide. Barnhardt struts around an ugly mall, keeping watch over all the ugly people who shop and work there. That Jody Hill is able to make a movie about this character and not apologize for any of his actions—child abuse, date rape—is truly astounding. The fact that it's actually funny is mind-boggling. (See Movie Times: thestranger.com/film.) by Paul Constant

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Corin Hewitt's performances have been called photography machines. Weavings stems from a 2007 performance in Portland. Using four cameras, fabrics, an image of a Native American basket, food, and Plasticine, Hewitt has made pictures of the basket photo, the patterned fabrics, a basket he made out of pasta, himself eating the pasta, a weaving made of Plasticine, a weaving made of beans, half-eaten food, the cameras themselves. No material is let go without commemoration. It makes you feel better about being a living thing. (Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave, 654-3100. 10 am–5 pm, $15 suggested.) by Jen Graves

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