The Stranger

The classic image of Carrie—willowy prom queen showered in blood—is so epochal, it's all but eclipsed the hour and a half of rich teen horror that surrounds it. From semipublic tampon torture to vengeful telekinesis to the world's spookiest Bad Mother, Carrie is a pulpy high-school nightmare. Elevating everything: Sissy Spacek, who lights up the pulp with a great performance. Why you should actually leave your house to watch Carrie: It's at Central Cinema, where pizza, beer, and popcorn are brought to your table. (Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave, 686-6684. 9:30 pm, $6, late show 21+.) by David Schmader

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Sarah Waters's success would have been unimaginable 20 years ago. She writes about lesbian characters and themes, but she's not just "a gay writer." Instead, her novels—like the Dickensian thriller Fingersmith and the Victorian romance Tipping the Velvet—are widely celebrated for their atmospheric, ornate imagery and compelling plots. And they're about unabashedly gay characters. To see her books becoming best sellers is to celebrate the destruction of the "gay fiction" ghetto that used to menace bookstores back in the day. Tonight she reads from The Little Stranger, a ghost story. (University Book Store, 4326 University Way NE, 634-3400. 7 pm, free.) by Paul Constant

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Eat, drink, chill out, and, in the process, lend a financial boost to Decibel, the local organization that hosts a world-class electronic-music fest every September. Tonight's gala features Helios, an elite purveyor of beautiful, meditative ambient music, and Seattle's Lusine, whose productions exude emotional depth and variegated textural splendors. Classical violinist/electronic-music composer Rena Jones and the Seattle Pianist Collective also appear, along with electronic-music-enhancing pan-Asian cuisine courtesy of Wild Ginger. (Triple Door, 216 Union St, 838-4333. 7 pm, $50 [includes food/beverage], all ages.) by Dave Segal

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Have you seen Ira Glass's adorable little face? And have you seen his adorable little face really, really big on a great big screen? (The adorableness gets BIGGER.) Yes, this whole live-broadcast-radio-movie thing is slightly weird, but I can think of few things as reliably entertaining as This American Life. This show—"Return to the Scene of the Crime"—includes uniformly excellent performances from Mike Birbiglia, Starlee Kine, and Joss Whedon (singing!), and a show-stealing story about church and death by our own Dan Savage. (Alderwood 7, 3501 184th St SW, Lynnwood, www.fandango.com. 8 pm, $18.) by Lindy West

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The annual evening-length tornado of talent—and drinking and, uh, other stuff—is back. Judging the third Stranger Gong Show is a quartet of local smart alecks: Jennifer Zeyl, Lindy West, Jen Graves, and Sarah Rudinoff. And the freaks performing this year? One can only guess. Previous years have seen a cokehead Mary Poppins, a man stuff 14 quarters up his nose, lewd standup from the Easter Bunny, mooning, intergalactic spirit possession, and audiences that get drunker and noisier by the minute. There will be cash ($300!). There will be prizes. There will be blood. (Chop Suey, 1325 E Madison St, thestranger.com/gongshow. Sign-up at 7 pm/show at 9 pm, $5, 21+.) by Brendan Kiley

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Crawl Space's openings are great parties, and Buddy Bunting's great big, stark portraits of remote places—like his minimalist drawing of the Two Rivers Correctional Institution in Umatilla, Oregon, installed on a 32-foot wall built for this show, which is archly titled High Living—are lonely as hell. The party will help to bring you back from the brink of the art. (Crawl Space Gallery, 504 E Denny Way #1, 201-2441. 6–9 pm, free.) by Jen Graves

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Ramin Bahrani's latest film, Goodbye Solo, is set in Winston-Salem and involves a Senegalese taxi driver and a white American man. The movie is not about the collision of their cultures. What matters in this expertly directed movie is the existential situation of being between hope and despair. The taxi driver is hope; the American is despair. The driver has a good reason to hope (he is young, about to become a father), and the American has a good reason to despair (he is old and alone). From these two positions, Bahrani develops an emotional language for a society that has been totally transformed by the processes of globalization. (See Movie Times: thestranger.com/film.) by Charles Mudede

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