Still in opening act mode

On first headlining tour, Nicki Minaj delivers fun show but leaves audiencewanting more

Nicki Minaj salutes the audience.
Photo by Chinh Phan
Minaj emerged onstage to "Roman's Revenge" (just as she did during the "FemmeFatale" tour) in a blond wig and black monk's robe.
Photo by Chinh Phan
Minaj only made three costume changes in a show that lasted about an hour.
Photo by Chinh Phan
Minaj soliticed audience participation as fans gleefully filling in popularlines from her radio hits, squealing feverishly to shoutouts like "Where mywhite people at?"
Photo by Chinh Phan
Unlike her televised performances, Minaj sang and rapped largely without abacking track and acquitted herself well.
Photo by Chinh Phan
The headlining tour didn't feel much more substantial than a RodeoHoustonconcert, but fans ate it up.
Photo by Chinh Phan

After two stints opening for Britney Spears and Lil Wayne, superstar rap popstress Nicki Minaj's first headlining tour should be bigger and better than her supporting sets. Instead her hour-long show at Bayou Music Center was fun but also short, cheap and uninspired, even cribbing from last year's "Femme Fatale" setlist.

And yet if the sell-out crowd was disappointed, it didn't show, with fans gleefully filling in popular lines from Minaj's radio hits, squealing feverishly to shoutouts like "Where my white people at?" and many spending most of the concert standing on their chairs.

One of my favorite things about Nicki Minaj is that she makes a distinction between being sexy and being a sexual object.

Minaj emerged onstage to "Roman's Revenge" (just as she did during the "Femme Fatale" tour) in a blond wig and black monk's robe, which were quickly dropped in favor of a brightly colored, graffiti-inspired hoodie and tights under booty shorts (on Nicki Minaj all shorts are booty shorts) for "Did It On 'Em," another déjà vu moment.

Unlike her televised performances, Minaj sang and rapped largely without a backing track and acquitted herself well.

Flowing quickly into "I Am Your Leader," "Beez in the Trap" and "Stupid Ho," all from Minaj's sophomore album, Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded, as well as her verse on Big Sean's hypnotically catchy "Ass," and hits "Right By My Side and "Moment 4 Life," it felt like Minaj was leading a dance party set to a montage of her songs and verses for a solid 15 minutes.

Just when seemed like Minaj was going to blow through her sizeable guest spot and solo catalog in 30 minutes, the rapper/singer made her first costume change as an onstage DJ played "Turn Me On" and tried to pump up the crowd. The breaks were when the shortcuts in staging and presentation really showed.

Instead of leaving some dancers onstage to keep the crowd's attention, all six disappeared with her, and the light screens behind and above the double staircase that made up her set more or less functioned as giant screensavers. When it comes to engaging an audience even when off the stage, Nicki could use some pointers from Beyoncé. For an artist known as much for her theatrical characters and over-the-top outfits as for her singles, it was a huge disappointment.

"Houston is responsible for bringing so much of the culture to hip-hop," she gushed, and while it was a great moment, it also seemed like Minaj was looking for a way to fill out her set.

Returning in see-through white lace that referenced Madonna's "Like A Virgin" look, Minaj fulfilled her pop star potential, singing her Euro-dance megahits "Starships" and "Pound the Alarm" before breaking again to switch to a pink Marilyn Monroe-esque dress for a ballad-heavy interlude featuring "Fire Burns" and "Save Me." (Though surprisingly not "Marilyn Monroe," although the recorded track played as Minaj left the stage for a final costume change.)

Switching to her trademark straight black hair, Minaj also flipped from pop to rap with tracks from her early mixtapes like "Slumber Party" and "Beam Me Up Scotty" plus new track "Come on a Cone."

One of my favorite things about Nicki Minaj is that she makes a distinction between being sexy and being a sexual object. "I don't condone females who depend on men," she told the audience before leading into her verses from Drake's "Make Me Proud." "If you're in school, stay in school, It's not cute to use your cooch. Go out and get what you deserve and then no one can take it away from you." It was almost as great as the feminist rant she spontaneously spun during her 2010 MTV special.

After mixing together her sections of "My Chick Bad" and Bottoms Up" (another Femme Fatale leftover), Minaj opened up the stage to Houston rappers Bun B, Paul Wall and Slim Thug, who each took a turn on the mic performing the songs they are known for. (Somewhere in Houston, Mike Jones wept.)

"Houston is responsible for bringing so much of the culture to hip-hop," she gushed, and while it was a great moment for the audience to see the trio of local greats on the stage, it also seemed like Minaj was looking for a way to fill out her set.

After the Houston interlude, Minaj closed out the show with her 2011 megahit "Superbass" as confetti shot into the air as was off the stage by 10 p.m. with a quick goodbye. With a set that lasted scarcely an hour (no encore here) with no less than three costume changes, this headlining tour didn't feel much more substantial than a RodeoHouston concert, and there wasn't much in the way of interesting lights of sets to distinguish it either.

With tickets selling for up to $100, I'd want my money back. Luckily the high energy crowd didn't seem to agree.

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Movie Review

Over-the-top acting and incoherent plot drag down Her Private Hell

Photo courtesy of Neon

Sophie Thatcher in Her Private Hell.

Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn is not someone who plays nice with the general film world. His 2011 film Drive introduced him to American audiences in a big way, but that pulsating thriller was followed up with artier films like Only God Forgives and The Neon Demon that eschewed coherent plots in favor of moody, atmospheric pieces.

Winding Refn, who hasn’t made a feature film in 10 years, has gone fully down the rabbit hole with Her Private Hell. Taking place in a liminal space that kind of resembles Earth but also feels like someone’s dreams/nightmares, the film focuses on Elle (Sophie Thatcher), an actor currently starring in a sci-fi film. Staying at a hotel with newcomer Hunter (Kristine Froseth), the two bond over their shared passion and the legend of Elle’s father, Johnny Thunders (Dougray Scott), who’s now married to Elle’s friend Dominique (Havana Rose Liu).

After spending a good amount of (mostly incomprehensible) time with that group, Refn introduces Private K (Charles Melton), who seems to be living in post-World War II Japan. He is looking for his daughter, who might have been taken by a mysterious figure known as “Leatherman,” and he will stop at nothing to find her, fighting whoever stands in his way.

It becomes clear almost right away that Winding Refn has no desire to engage in traditional storytelling in this film. The main characters wander through neon-drenched streets and buildings, which are often surrounded by a mist that is referred to on multiple occasions but never explained. Everyone speaks as if in a constant state of wonderment, and there are many moments where it’s unclear if events are actually happening, part of a movie-within-a-movie, or something else entirely.

Unlike his previous films, Winding Refn has taken the characters in this film completely out of the real world, with every scene taking place in a sparsely decorated room or street that is obviously a movie set. While there are moments where this decision really works, especially the striking first shot of a human-like figure mixed in with a cityscape and clouds, most of the time it only adds to the stilted nature of the film as a whole.

In fact, the entire movie has the feel of an avant-garde theater exercise. Every actor seems to be trying to outdo the others with awkward performances and out-sized reactions. Two very specific characters make appearances in both sides of the story for seemingly no reason other than to inject their weirdness into both spaces. The shocking violence that crops up on occasion would have more of an impact if it was related to anything intelligible.

Thatcher (Companion) and Liu (Tuner) are among the young stars who have had breakout moments in recent years, but neither of them is served well by this hot mess of a movie. They, along with Melton, still demonstrate the talent they possess, but the oddity of the film weighs them down. Scott makes an impression for all the wrong reasons, while Froseth is called upon to play a character who might as well not be there at all.

If there’s any kind of message that Winding Refn was trying to convey with Her Private Hell, it’s lost among the flashing lights, overload of pink, and jewel-like structures. Filmmakers who try to make art for art’s sake have a place in the world, but this film too often feels like people are making things up as they go, with no real goal in mind.

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Her Private Hell opens in theaters on July 24.

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