KELSEYVILLE, Calif. – The second event of the Summer Poetry Series is this Wednesday, July 29, at 6 p.m. at the Saw Shop Gallery Bistro, 3825 Main St., Kelseyville. 

Hosted by Lake County Poet Laureate Casey Carney, the July 29 reading features poets Julie Adams and Lorna Sue Sides, and guest musician Sarah Ryan.  

Open mic signups are at 6 p.m. Five poets will be invited to share up to five minutes of poetry each.

The $10 admission includes a glass of wine, an appetizer and $20 in Saw Shop bucks, to be redeemed at the patron’s convenience.

This is the second of three poetry readings, occurring on the last Wednesday of the month through August.

ANT-MAN (Rated PG)

Good things can come in small packages, even smaller than the single-celled yellow organisms known as Minions, now so popular they have their own thrill ride at the Universal Studios theme parks in Orlando and Hollywood.

Another small package is Ant-Man, a unique superhero in the Marvel Cinematic Universe who, first introduced in the 1962 comic book “Tales to Astonish #27,” was a founding member of the Avengers.

Hank Pym appeared alongside the Avengers in the team’s debut in the 1963 “Avengers #1,” and became the Ant-Man after discovering a chemical substance called the Pym Particle, which allowed him to alter his size and possess superhuman strength. 

That’s about as much history of the Ant-Man that I could put together, and I am sure the legion of Marvel Comics fans possess the complete knowledge to make their own assessments of Disney’s “Ant-Man,” starring the very likable Paul Rudd as the titular character.

Additionally, I couldn’t even begin to explain or comprehend the subtleties of the Marvel Comics universe, but that doesn’t mean that other similarly challenged viewers can’t enjoy “Ant-Man” for its pure fun.

The general public is fully aware of the superheroes like Iron Man, the Hulk, Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, as well as the other team members behind the Avengers, the Guardians of the Galaxy and the Fantastic Four.  Now Ant-Man finally gets his due.

As “Ant-Man” opens, context is provided with a flashback to 1989, when a younger Dr. Hank Pym (a digitally-rejuvenated Michael Douglas), opposed to any tinkering with his discovery, confronts his colleagues, including the oily Mitchell Carson (Martin Donovan) who figures into the action in present day.

The story begins in earnest in present time with Paul Rudd’s Scott Lang, a master thief being released from San Quentin prison, and reuniting with his best pal and ex-felon Luis (Michael Pena), who wants Scott to resume his old ways.

Trying to go legit, Scott takes a job at Baskin-Robbins, only to be fired when his prison record is made known.  He’s desperate to stay out of trouble for the sake of his young daughter, now that his ex-wife (Judy Greer) has moved on with a new partner (Bobby Cannavale), a police officer hostile to Scott’s overtures. 

Meanwhile, in the intervening years, Dr. Pym has seen his company fall under the control of his former protégé, Darren Cross (Corey Stoll), who now exhibits signs of megalomania and greed with his plan to turn Pym’s invention into the Yellowjacket, a weapon for nefarious purposes that he intends to sell to the odious Mitchell Carson.

With elaborate planning, Dr. Pym orchestrates a cat burglar job that involves Scott and his goofy cohorts stealing the Ant-Man suit from a nearly impenetrable vault, proving that Scott may be the one to don the mantle of a miniaturized hero to save the world.

If it were not for the sake of proving himself a worthy father to his daughter Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson), Scott’s serious doubts about dwindling to the size of an insect would kill the whole deal. 

As it is, Scott’s first shrinking experience with the power of the Ant-Man suit proves frightening, as he must survive the swirling waters of a bathtub, trekking through shag carpet, and not becoming a snack for a mouse.

This trial by fire convinces Dr. Pym that Scott is the right candidate for the superhero job, instead of his steely-eyed daughter Hope (Evangeline Lilly).  Pym believes he is being protective of his only child, proving that Scott is not the only one with father-daughter issues.

The inevitable showdown with the odious Darren Cross (his shiny bald head making him look more than a villain in a James Bond film) comes not too fast, as time and care is taken to develop Scott’s newfound superhero skills.

Before Scott and his gang can pull off a big heist at Dr. Pym’s company headquarters, an extensive amount of training exercises allows Scott to adapt to the power of his costume, such as leaping from full size to being so small that he passes easily through a keyhole. 

Reduced to the size of Ant-Man, Scott puts together an army of industrious ants, training them to do such things as to place sugar cubes in a cup of tea as if they were drones piling stone slabs to create an Egyptian pyramid.

Even though there is an interesting encounter with a member of the Avengers, the dynamic involved in “Ant-Man” is much more than the mentor-pupil relationship between Dr. Pym and Scott Lang, a situation which transcends the traditional Marvel Comics model of storytelling.

“Ant-Man” brings a fresher, lighter approach to the superhero franchise, with a titular character that is a vulnerable and somewhat reluctant recruit to the cause, yet proving to be a good guy despite his penchant for thievery and seeming inability to stay out of trouble.

More interested in character development, “Ant-Man” puts imagination and humor, along with dramatic tension between family members, above the inevitable annihilation of the bad guys.

In short, “Ant-Man” is a lot of fun, even for the casual viewers of the Marvel Comics film franchise.

Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News.

One of the first uses of language must surely have been to tell others what happened beyond the firelight, out in the forest. And poems that do just that seem wonderfully natural and human to me.

Here’s Anya Krugovoy Silver telling us something that happened far from home. She lives and teaches in Georgia.

Doing Laundry In Budapest

The dryer, uniform and squat as a biscuit tin,
came to life and turned on me its insect eye.
My t-shirts and underwear crackled and leapt.
I was a tourist there; I didn’t speak the language.
My shoulders covered themselves up in churches,
my tongue soothed its burn with slices of pickle.
More I don’t remember: only, weekends now
when I stand in the kitchen, sorting sweat pants
and pairing socks, I remember the afternoon
I did my laundry in Budapest, where the sidewalks
bloomed with embroidered linen, where money
wasn’t permitted to leave the country.
When I close my eyes, I recall that spinning,
then a woman, with nothing else to sell,
pressing wilted flowers in my hands.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation ( www.poetryfoundation.org ), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2014 by Anya Krugovoy Silver, “Doing Laundry in Budapest,” from I Watched You Disappear: Poems, (Louisiana State Univ. Press, 2014). Poem reprinted by permission of Anya Krugovoy Silver and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. They do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Patrick Phillips lives in Brooklyn, but in every city, town and village, and at every crossroads, there’s an old guitar. Here’s one from Elegy for a Broken Machine, a fine book from Alfred A. Knopf.

The Guitar

It came with those scratches
from all their belt buckles,

palm-dark with their sweat
like the stock of a gun:

an arc of pickmarks cut
clear through the lacquer

where all the players before me
once strummed—once

thumbed these same latches
where it sleeps in green velvet.

Once sang, as I sing, the old songs.
There’s no end, there’s no end

to this world, everlasting.
We crumble to dust in its arms.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation ( www.poetryfoundation.org ), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. They do not accept unsolicited submissions. Poem copyright 2015 by Patrick Phillips, “The Guitar,” from Elegy for a Broken Machine, (Alfred A. Knopf, 2015). Poem reprinted by permission of Patrick Phillips and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Surely, some of you have paged through an old book and come upon a dried flower, fragile as a spider web, the colors faded.

Here’s a fine poem about pressing flowers by Chelsea Woodard of New Hampshire, from her book Vellum.

The Flower Press

It was the sort of thing given to little girls:
sturdy and small, round edged, wooden and light.
I stalked the pasture’s rough and waist-high grass
for worthy specimens: the belle amid the mass,
the star shaming the clouds of slighter,
ordinary blooms. The asters curled

inside my sweat-damp palms, as if in sleep. Crushed
in the parlor’s stifling heat, I pried
each shrinking petal back, and turned the screws.
But flowers bear no ugly bruise,
and even now fall from the brittle page, dried
prettily, plucked from memory’s hush.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation ( www.poetryfoundation.org ), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. They do not accept unsolicited submissions. Poem copyright 2014 by Chelsea Woodard, “The Flower Press,” from Vellum, (Able Muse Press, 2014). Poem reprinted by permission of Chelsea Woodard and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

MINIONS (Rated PG)

The “Despicable Me” films were so wildly popular, thanks in large measure to the Minions, that the single-celled yellow organisms, having delighted audiences young and old as the henchmen for the evil Gru, would inevitably get their own film.

Designed as a prequel to the “Despicable Me” franchise, “Minions” is much more than that. It is a delightful origin story that informs as to how these freakish survivors of nature have been on planet Earth since the dawn of time.

One might fault this film, directed by Pierre Coffin and Kyle Balda, for the lack of a cohesive, well-structured story, but that is of little concern for the comic relief provided by the Minions. It’s no small matter that Coffin provides the voice for the trio of primary Minions.

The Minions have always sought to serve the most evil master they could find, starting in prehistoric times when they worked for Mr. T Rex, accidentally causing his demise after bumping him into a volcano.

Every villain to whom they pledged unwavering allegiance somehow meets a bad end, whether it’s during a celebration of Dracula’s 357th birthday or being held responsible for the rout of Napoleon and his soldiers at the Battle of Waterloo.

As a result of centuries of misfortune in the service of villains, the Minions were banished to the dreary loneliness and depression of the South Pole, where games of makeshift soccer failed to alleviate their boredom.

Acting like the big brother to his fellow Minions, Kevin takes the lead in suggesting an expedition to find a world where the yellow-skinned creatures can find their true calling once again.

Kevin is joined by one-eyed Stuart, the rebellious teenager type who doesn’t care about the mission but wants to play music and talk to girls. The Bob, the wide-eyed innocent and the smallest Minion, reluctantly signs up for exploratory duty.

The trio of Kevin, Bob and Stuart, often bickering and slapping each other around, reminds one of The Three Stooges for the physical comedy of their slapstick antics. But Bob may be the funniest of the bunch, as he is easily distracted by bright lights, a flickering TV set or a teddy bear left on the ground.

Venturing forth from the South Pole, our intrepid trio of explorers ends up in New York City, circa 1968, where they find their signature denim dungarees hanging out to dry on a clothesline, ripe for stealing.

By watching TV (there’s a funny bit with three contestants on “The Dating Game” having the same names as our Minion trio), Kevin and his buddies learn of Villain Con being held in Orlando, Florida, which is viewed at the time as undeveloped swamp land.

Hitchhiking to Orlando, the Minions are picked up by the appearance of an all-American family driving a station wagon packed with children. But Walter Nelson (Michael Keaton), his wife (Allison Janney) and the kids are accomplished bank robbers also on their way to Villain Con.

Once in Orlando, and still on a quest to find the most evil employer (the Nelson family is just not bad enough), Kevin and his pals are entranced by Scarlet Overkill (Sandra Bullock), billed at Villain Con as the world’s first female super-villain.

Elegantly attired in a bright red dress and sporting a bouffant hairstyle popular in that era, Scarlet puts on a dazzling stage show to find worthy new henchmen. No surprise here to tell you that Kevin, Bob and Stuart have found new employment.

With the help of her foppish, mad scientist husband Herb (Jon Hamm), Scarlet hatches a ludicrous plan to become the Queen of England by having the Minions steal the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London.

To be sure, it is cockeyed scheme, but it allows for great scenes inside Buckingham Palace with Queen Elizabeth (Jennifer Saunders), who proves feisty when her throne is under siege.

Of course, the Minions screw up Scarlet’s grand plot when Bob manages to retrieve the Sword in the Stone (think Excalibur) and briefly becomes the King of England, much to the consternation of an unhinged Scarlet.

Bob, like all Minions, doesn’t speak English, so his public speech to his subjects is baffling until he utters a single word they understand. That’s part of the fun of the Minions is how they speak in excitable gibberish, only rarely dropping an intelligible English or Spanish word.

“Minions” is rife with agreeable nonsense, where chaos follows the Minions, resulting in havoc at every turn. These lovable creatures provide a great deal of laughs.

The very funny “Minions” should prove enjoyable for all ages. Adults will appreciate many cultural references that youngsters are not likely to recognize.

Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News.