The Stranger

What's so great about the packed group show at Western Bridge this summer: It's dumb. It's also uncomplicated and beautiful, and it's about water. You know, about how water looks when it reflects light, and how it feels when you're in it and it takes hold of your hair and your scalp notices. It's about how many ways you can jump into it, and about how many colors it can be. The art is from the Trues' collection, so it's good and important. But all you need to know about is water. (Western Bridge, 3412 Fourth Ave S, 838-7444. Noon–6 pm, free.) by Jen Graves

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Just in case air guitar wasn't supremely and unabashedly superdork enough for you, a bunch of bored and girlfriendless Japanese men went and invented "air sex." That's right, AIR sex—fully clothed humans simulating sexual activities with invisible partners, usually in an exaggerated manner, set to music. A bunch of crazy Texans grabbed this trend by the invisible balls and ran with it, inventing competitive air sex, where contestants are judged on costume, planning, and, well, plain "sexiness." The number-one rule is that climaxes are 100 percent simulated—and anyone who accidentally creams their jeans is automatically disqualified. It sounds horrifying and magical. I'll be in the front row. (El Corazón, 109 Eastlake Ave E, 262-0482. 9 pm, $10 adv/$12 DOS, 21+.) by Kelly O

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Okay, bear with me. This is a tough sell, and I know it's a tough sell because my coworkers made fun of me for an hour after I pitched it. O'Horten is a very slow, very Norwegian, almost imperceptibly comedic comedy about a retired train conductor. Horten smokes his pipe! Horten falls asleep in the wrong places! Horten makes friends with a dog! It sounds like just another fusty, folksy movie about the melancholic cuteness of old age (and it kind of is). But the film's meticulous reserve—it embraces oddness while absolutely refusing to goof off—makes it work. It's so sweet, you guys, I swear! (See Movie Times: thestranger.com/film.) by Lindy West

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In Cecil B. DeMille's 1929 feature-length teenage riot, atheists and varsity-sweatered Christians battle over their immortal souls (or lack thereof). The kids in the atheist club (The Godless Society) get sworn in on the head of a capuchin monkey. The high-school crusade begins with hurled eggs and includes the godless girl's conversion after a stigmatic run-in with an electric fence at reform school. Plus a nude scene starring the godless girl cavorting by the side of a stream, all accompanied by a live organ score. How can you pass on that? You cannot. (Paramount Theatre, 911 Pine St, 467-5510. 7 pm, $12.) by Brendan Kiley

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Away We Go is a movie about a pregnant woman (Maya Rudolph) and her boyfriend (John Krasinski) traveling from city to city to find a new home and wrestling with the eternal question: "Are we fuckups?" They visit other couples who employ varying methods of parenting, from hippie doltishness to alcoholic ignorance, all the while trying to figure out how best to treat their child and each other. If you've ever wondered how to live without doing harm to the world, this film will move you. (See Movie Times: thestranger.com/film.) by Paul Constant

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At age 57, this Talking Heads icon exhibited phenomenal athletic grace and stamina during his February concert at Benaroya. Byrne performed much of the two albums he recorded with fellow genius Brian Eno—as well as some of the Heads' most scintillating output—as if it were 1983, not 2009. Much of Byrne's appeal now hinges on nostalgia, but rarely do old chestnuts burn (down the house) as brightly as this spry New Yorker's avant-rock compositions. (Paramount Theatre, 911 Pine St, 467-5510. 7:30 pm, $45, all ages.) by Dave Segal

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