Conceptual loathing for the School of Rock phenomenon aside—authorities should always be considered the enemy and we're a generation away from doctoral shredding—the Rock & Roll Camp For Girls pretty much evades cynicism. Fact is: our daughters are far less likely to join bands and about never take lead guitar. Much as sizism, unfiltered creativity, and empowerment for empowerment's sake embarrass as raisons d'etre for supposed grown-ups, they're about the most important lessons young women deserve. And there's nothing, absolutely nothing, to warm the heart like quivering, mousy-haired Beezi and Ramonas suddenly flashing the devil sign upon stage.
Only criticism we'd make concerns the embarrassment of riches hosting the camp within the northwest. Do you know a local fourth-grader without Kathleen Hanna impression and gender identification issues? New documentary Girls Rock! brings the infectious DIY ethos to America. Olympia, finally, is a movable feast.
The premiere's at 7 pm, March 7th at Cinema 21. Advance $25 gets you VIP privileges—soda, popcorn, a trip down the red carpet (which seems totally un-punk, but whatevs) and afterparty mingling with Camp vets, volunteers, the Rose City Rollers and totally-not-courting-indie-vote Sam Adams. Similar crowd, rollerderbyers and mayoral candidates aside, shall crowd the theater Sunday, March 9th for 3 pm matinee that, given attendees' bedtime, makes a little more sense.
Unstoppably adorable trailer to follow. Do NOT watch before drinking. The temptation to procreate may overwhelm.