Lainey Wilson review

Yellowstone star Lainey Wilson enthralls at sold-out RodeoHouston debut

Lainey Wilson delivered a standout performance

Photo courtesy of the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo

The current reigning ‘Hillbilly Hippie’ queen of modern country-rock Lainey Wilson landed at RodeoHouston for a verified sold-out Saturday matinee.

Wilson’s fashion influence was evident when you entered the rodeo grounds, with spangly jackets, glittered bell-bottoms, and turkey feather-festooned cowboy hats ruling the day. The heavens, thankfully, blessed us with a fashion-friendly cool front overnight. Much like Kacey Musgraves’ defining appearance in 2019, Wilson’s audience was a multi-generational affair with moms and daughters decked out just like the headliner. These kinds of crowds are always affirming because no doubt this is someone’s first rodeo concert.

Wilson and Carly Pearce were the only female artists on this year’s RodeoHouston bill, a fact that has not gone unnoticed especially during Women’s History Month. There seems to be an unofficial two-female limit each year, and you’d have to go back to the 2011 season for the high water mark with six female-fronted acts on the lineup. You can likely pencil in Megan Moroney for 2025, and hopefully she’ll be joined by more than just one other fellow female.

The assertive “Tanya Tucker fronting AC/DC” vibes make Wilson a compelling artist to watch, but she’s far from an overnight success story. By the time she charted in 2021 with “Things A Man Oughta Know” the 31-year-old Nashville veteran had already written songs picked up by Thompson Square, Luke Combs, Ashley Cooke, and Flatland Cavalry. She won Entertainer of the Year at the 2023 CMA Awards and earlier this year took home the Best Country Album honors at the Grammys. Later this month, Wilson heads off to Australia to continue her hippie-billy domination.

Wilson’s reinterpretations of the universal themes in the female experience are resonating with fans. NRG Stadium was packed to the gills before the first bull gave an unlucky cowboy a concussion. She has endeared herself to the Spotify generation’s ears for namechecking Tacomas and Tecovas like any great urban cowgirl.

Lainey Wilson RodeoHouston Almost 75,000 attended Wilson's rodeo debut.Photo courtesy of the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo

Saturday afternoon’s thunderous strutter of an opener “Hold My Halo” set the tone, incredibly more metallic than it is on record. During “Hillbilly Hippie” the denim-dripped Wilson attacked each corner of the revolving stage’s five points like Bruce Dickinson. “Smell Like Smoke” had Wilson slinging a guitar and taking the NRG crowd out of the stadium and into a smoky Louisiana roadhouse. Anyone who came into Saturday’s show thinking Wilson was a shrinking pop star was set straight.

“Country’s Cool Again” is a modern reworking of Barbara Mandrell’s 1981 single “I Was Country When Country Wasn’t Cool” which itself was a reaction to the early ‘80s fascination with twang in the wake of “Urban Cowboy”. Wilson closed “Watermelon Moonshine” with a few bars of “Strawberry Wine”, a winking homage to the last generation’s ode to underage drinking and memorable exploits. Country time is a flat circle, with artists reinterpreting the same feelings and experiences every few years.

“Y’all look more like Lainey Wilson than I look like Lainey Wilson,” an emotional Wilson said, recounting the last twelve months of her career. Playing the RodeoHouston stage is not a milestone that emerging artists take likely. On Thursday night Jelly Roll himself took a moment to soak in his own 70,000-plus crowd. It’s an affirmation of making it in an industry that only continues to grow colder and cutting.

On Saturday afternoon, a crowd of 74,940 people — this year’s biggest to date — were lucky enough to witness the birth of country music’s newest star. Naturally, she rode out of NRG Stadium on a horse, doing a victory lap around the stage.

Setlist

Hold My Halo
Hillbilly Hippie
Road Runner
Smell Like Smoke
Country’s Cool Again
Watermelon Moonshine > Strawberry Wine
Riders In the Sky > Wildflowers and Wild Horses
Attagirl
Things A Man Oughta Know
Wait In the Truck
Heart Like A Truck

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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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