Entertainment
Erykah Badu, Playboi Carti, MF Doom tribute, Sexyy Red and more bring the heat to Camp Flog Gnaw on Day 2
The second day of Camp Flog Gnaw’s 10-year anniversary came roaring back into Dodger Stadium for fans of Tyler, the Creator’s universe of energized and eclectic hip-hop and R&B — with a dash of jazz flute. As fans swarmed the festival to see Mustard, Erykah Badu and Playboi Carti, the mindset of letting it all hang out on a Sunday evening was strong throughout the three-stage slate of acts that kept the crowd captivated from beginning to end. Here’s the best of what we saw on Day 2.
André 3000
I’m not sure how many people I expected to watch André 3000 play the flute with his instrumental jazz combo Sunday night, but it was definitely fewer than actually showed up. Wearing a Mitch Marner hockey jersey and a red knit cap, the beloved Outkast MC performed for an audience of many thousands at Flog Gnaw one year to the day after the release of “New Blue Sun,” which this month earned a surprise nomination for album of the year at February’s Grammy Awards. (It’s his third time in the ceremony’s flagship category after Outkast was nominated in 2002 with “Stankonia” and won the prize in 2004 with “Speakerboxxx/The Love Below.”)
As on the LP, André didn’t rap here, instead blowing long, searching notes on a series of flutes as his collaborators supported him with sympathetic grooves; he also crouched down at one point to tap several small gongs. Having recognized perhaps that this wasn’t exactly a jazz crowd, André helpfully explained that he and the band were improvising in real time: “Everything we play every night, we make it up,” he said. But he also took the opportunity to have some fun at his fans’ expense. Near the end of his set, he squared up behind a mic and started throwing out long, passionate vocal lines in a language I can’t say I recognized. The energy in the audience shifted slightly but perceptibly: Wait, is he rapping? Then he laughed. “I just completely made all that s— up,” he said. “Y’all should have seen your faces. Y’all like, ‘Man, he saying some deep-ass s— right now.’ ” — Mikael Wood
Erykah Badu
Erykah Badu began her set nearly half an hour after its scheduled start time — a serious no-no at a festival with a tightly programmed live stream — and consequently found her sound cut after only about 20 minutes of music. (Like a handful of acts Sunday, Badu didn’t agree to stream her performance, so maybe she thought her time was her own? Flog Gnaw disagreed.) The veteran R&B seeker used her brief time onstage to do a jazzy rendition of “On & On,” her breakout single from 1996, and a trippy take on “Window Seat,” from her most recent studio album, 2010’s “New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh).” She also offered the crowd some mystical words of wisdom, declaring that “we have just entered the fourth world war — the war between the people and the mind.” — M.W.
Tommy Richman
It was a surprise when aspiring opera singer-turned-TikTok sensation Tommy Richman, didn’t receive any nominations for the upcoming Grammys. After the 24 year old’s “Million Dollar Baby,” which debuted at No. 2 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart (a rarity for an artist with no prior history on the chart), went viral on TikTok, it seemed like an obvious choice.
But the recent snub didn’t seem to phase Richman, who brought several of his friends and collaborators including Trevor Spitta and mynameisntjmack onto the desert stage — which resembled his “Coyote” album cover. Richman, a genre-bending artist whose catalog delves into hip-hop, R&B, funk and alternative, showed off his impressive vocal training as he sang records like “Whitney,” “Thought You Were the One,” “Devil is a Lie” and “Last Night” from his 2023 EP, “The Rush” which was my introduction to him. — Kailyn Brown
Sexyy Red performs at Camp Flog Gnaw on Nov. 17, 2024 in Los Angeles.
(Michael Blackshire/Los Angeles Times)
Sexyy Red
After putting in a cameo with Tyler, the Creator on Saturday night, St. Louis’ Sexyy Red gave a rowdy performance of her own on Sunday, twerking exuberantly in a pair of sparkly red yoga pants as she ran through thumping club-rap jams like “SkeeYee,” “Sexyy Love Money” and her part from Drake’s “Rich Baby Daddy.” “Shake that ass, b—,” she commanded in her appealingly shrill, Midwestern honk. “Make them hoes mad.” — M.W.
The Marías
L.A. rock quartet the Marías were one of few acts at Flog Gnaw to acknowledge the, let’s say, tense atmosphere in the U.S. right now. “Let all out all your frustrations from the past couple weeks,” singer María Zardoya told the crowd as the band kicked off “Run Your Mouth,” a lithe disco number that served as pure and welcome escapism.
The Marías are an emblematic L.A. band right now — bilingual, effortlessly cosmopolitan and able to traverse global Latin superstardom (they guested on Bad Bunny’s “Otro Atardecer” from his gargantuan LP “Un Verano Sin Ti”), while preserving the R&B, indie and old-soul flourishes that imbue SoCal. Between them and Omar Apollo on Saturday, Flog Gnaw knows exactly where to slot a vibey, Latin-indie act. “Submarine,” the band’s 2024 LP, documented an intra-band breakup with poise and panache, and featured some of the group’s most precise writing and ambitious production yet.
Zardoya has become one of L.A.’s most compelling rock stars in a long time — she knew exactly how to frame her angles against a wall of washed blue lights, and walked through the crowd shaking hands like an aspiring president. Songs like “Ruthless” and “Vicious Sensitive Robot” showed the full band firing on all cylinders, veering from yacht-rock trumpets to meditative jazz grooves, while “Paranoia” had a hypermodern ambience. “Cariño” hit the bilingual Flog Gnaw crowd with a wave of warm, vacation-nostalgia vibes. Zardoya playfully alluded to the topicality of “Submarine” on “No One Noticed,” where she gently taunted the crowd, “If you want your ex back, sing it.” But it was easy to imagine that there were other recent missed opportunities for brighter days in America on her mind as well. — August Brown
Mustard and Friends
No producer has had a year quite like DJ Mustard. Still riding high on the success of what’s arguably the song of the year, “Not Like Us” by Kendrick Lamar, Mustard brought a similar energy and familiar faces to the Camp Flog stage as he did at “The Pop Out — Ken & Friends” show on Juneteenth. Among his special guests were Roddy Ricch, Shoreline Mafia, Tyga, Ty Dolla $ign, Big Sean and his most frequent and earliest collaborator, YG. At one point during his set, Mustard even played Drake’s “Crew Love” featuring the Weeknd, but just before Drake’s verse was about to start, Mustard shouted “Sike!” then cut into his next track.
Images of various L.A. landmarks such as the Slauson Super Mall, Randy’s Donuts and Dodger Stadium were projected onto the screen as Mustard performed on a tall stage that rose higher as the night went on. In honor of his hip-hop peers, he gave short tributes to Grammy-winning DJ and hypeman FatMan Scoop, who died in August, and treasured L.A. rapper and entrepreneur, Nipsey Hussle.
Before playing “Not Like Us” — he played it twice — the stage went black, a green smoke appeared and the memorable “I See Dead People” scene from M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Sixth Sense” played over the speakers. For a moment, it felt like Kendrick Lamar was going to make an appearance. Although he didn’t, the energy in the crowd never wavered. — K.B.
Faye Webster performs at Camp Flog Gnaw on Nov. 17, 2024 in Los Angeles.
(Michael Blackshire/Los Angeles Times)
Faye Webster
Almost certainly the weekend’s quietest act, singer-songwriter Faye Webster was a mesmerizing presence on the festival’s Gnaw stage between Sexyy Red’s throwdown and an elaborate tribute to the late MF Doom. Webster’s laid-back sound, which prominently features pedal steel and saxophone, lives somewhere between Southern soul and West Coast yacht rock; here, she and her band stayed thoroughly dialed-in even as Webster directed crew members to several people in the audience in apparent need of medical attention. — M.W.
Blood Orange performs at Camp Flog Gnaw on Nov. 17, 2024 in Los Angeles.
(Michael Blackshire/Los Angeles Times)
Blood Orange
Blood Orange’s Dev Hynes has been in the news for the work he looks to be doing in the studio with Lorde for her next album. But what a pleasure to have his dream-pop R&B combo back playing shows after a couple of years away. Blood Orange balances tenderness and propulsion like few other acts, which is why the group’s set was able to encompass a cover of Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” an appearance by Brendan Yates of the post-hardcore band Turnstile and a new song that evoked Luther Vandross fronting New Order. — M.W.
MF Doom tribute by FM MOOD
One of the most beautiful moments during Camp Flog Gnaw was a tribute to beloved rapper-producer MF Doom, who died suddenly in 2020 at 49 years old. As conductor Miguel Atwood-Ferguson — who was rocking a Fernando Valenzuela jersey and a metal face mask — led the Metalface Orchestra and Madlib (the other half of superduo, Madvillain) through various favorites like “Rhymes like Dimes” and “One Beer,” MF Doom’s vocals projected over the speakers, bringing his spirit to life.
Given that their performance was the last set of the night on the Gnaw stage, if you were present, you wanted to be there — fans were locked in, rapping along to every word and bobbing their heads to the music.
Toward the end of the nearly one-hour set, producer Daedelus came out to play his accordion on the rapper’s 2004 crowd favorite “Accordion,” and Erykah Badu — who performed on the main stage earlier in the night — sang a beautiful rendition of Sade’s “Kiss of Life,” which is a sample on MF Doom’s “Doomsday.” Before leaving the stage, Badu put her hands in a prayer position and told the crowd, “Thank you so much for loving my brother.” — K.B.
Playboi Carti
Playboi Carti was the only headline-tier act who did not broadcast his show on the Flog Gnaw livestream, leaving reams of Opium record label superfans caterwauling in the comments. It makes sense though — Carti’s whole thing is mystery, with the head-to-toe Rick Owens goth drip, the punk and metal window dressing on his trap productions, a high-ramped stage set only lit with strobe lights and no close-ups.
The Atlanta rapper has accomplished something comparable to what Tyler, the Creator has done in L.A. over the years — build a self-contained universe around the intersection of uncompromising hip-hop, “Hesher” dirtbag aesthetics and avant-garde fashion. Albums like “Die Lit” and “Whole Lotta Red” have become foundational documents for Gen Z rap, topping album charts and festival bills even as his vicious noise and shredded delivery refuse bend to the needs of a hit single (though he does often pop up on others’ more mainstream tracks, like Tyler’s “Earfquake,” and Camila Cabello’s loopy “I Luv It”). His personal life is volatile, but one can’t argue with the scale of his ambition, or how his gnarled aesthetics have reached an unlikely mass crowd.
While fans are still rabidly awaiting the followup to 2021’s “Whole Lotta Red,” the screens of his Flog Gnaw set flashed an image — “I Am Music,” the presumed title of his forthcoming LP — to assure fans it is really coming after long delays. The very short headline set was pretty typical Carti–ripping live metal guitars, frantic redlined vocals and a scrum of new cuts like “Ketamine” that seethed with tension and circle-pit chaos. He brought out the Weeknd at the very end to do “Timeless,” their synth-pricked new collaborative single, and left with barely a break or a breather. He promised a new single Friday. Give him this — Carti never gives fans anything but what he wants to. — A.B.
Movie Reviews
Bandar Movie Review: Bobby Deol roars in Anurag Kashyap’s unsettling legal thriller that refuses to spoon-feed
Name: Bandar
Director: Anurag Kashyap
Cast: Bobby Deol, Sanya Malhotra, Sapna Pabbi, Saba Azad, Jitendra Joshi, Raj B Shetty
Writer: Sudip Sharma, Abhishek Banerjee
Rating: 3.5/5
Plot:
Bandar follows Sameer Mehra’s character, essayed by Bobby Deol, a fading star who is desperately clinging to his past glory. Just as he attempts to rebuild his life and finds solace in a new relationship, his world comes crashing down. A former girlfriend files a heinous allegation against him, dragging him into a vicious, high-profile legal battle. Written by Sudip Sharma and Abhishek Banerjee, the film moves away from standard Bollywood courtroom setups. Instead, it dives straight into the murky waters of social media trials, public perception, and a sluggish judicial system where the truth gets buried under layers of gray.
What works:
Known for his chaotic energy, Anurag Kashyap takes a remarkably mature and controlled approach here. He avoids sensationalizing a highly sensitive topic, choosing instead to focus on the psychological claustrophobia of the protagonist. The prison sequences are exceptionally well-shot. They create a suffocating, raw atmosphere that makes you feel the weight of the character’s confinement. The script successfully avoids preachy, black-and-white monologues. It bravely forces the audience to confront their own biases regarding modern-day public trials and the digital judge-and-jury culture.
What doesn’t:
Clocking in at nearly two hours and twenty minutes, Bandar feels heavily weighed down in the second half. The narrative stretches thin, and a few subplots demand too much patience, making you wish for a tighter edit. The film stubbornly refuses to take a definitive moral stance or offer a neat resolution. While film enthusiasts might appreciate the complexity, mainstream viewers looking for a clear-cut ending or emotional payoff might walk away feeling detached and frustrated.
Performances:
- Bobby Deol is the beating heart of this film. Stripping away the massive macho swagger and menacing villainy of his recent hits, he delivers a deeply vulnerable, understated performance. He plays Samar with a mix of arrogance, confusion, and raw helplessness, proving his immense range.
- Sanya Malhotra anchors her screen time with her trademark reliability, turning in a grounded and impactful performance.
- Saba Azad and Sapna Pabbi excel in their respective roles, bringing genuine nuance to characters that could have easily been sidelined.
- Jitendra Joshi is an absolute scene-stealer, commanding your attention every single time he steps into the frame.
- Indrajith Sukumaran and Raj B Shetty are absolute show stealers with their raw acting.
Final Verdict:
Bandar is an unsettling, morally complex thriller that refuses to spoon-feed its audience. It isn’t a comfortable watch, nor does it try to be. While the sluggish pacing in the second half prevents it from being an absolute masterpiece, it is worth a watch for Bobby Deol’s spectacular acting reinvention and Anurag Kashyap’s gritty, thought-provoking storytelling.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of Pinkvilla. No statement in this article is intended to defame, harm, or malign any individual or entity.
ALSO READ: Maa Behen Movie Review: Madhuri Dixit, Triptii Dimri, and Dharna Durga save a slow-burning mystery
Entertainment
Kathy Hilton won’t be WeHo Pride’s grand marshal after backlash from community
Kathy Hilton will no longer be the grand marshal of West Hollywood’s pride parade.
The city and WeHo Pride on Wednesday released a joint statement, announcing that “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” star would no longer serve as the Grand Marshal Icon for the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade. The event is scheduled for Sunday.
“After thoughtful discussions, the City of West Hollywood, the WeHo Pride production team, and Kathy Hilton have determined that the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade will not designate a Grand Marshal Icon honoree,” read the statement.
The decision comes less than a week after Hilton was announced. That May 28 announcement was met with swift backlash from the LGBTQ+ community and allies, who called out Hilton’s ties to President Trump and alleged MAGA-leaning politics. Critics also cited accusations that the socialite had used a homophobic slur while on a trip with other cast members of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” an action she has previously denied.
In their joint statement, West Hollywood and the WeHo Pride team expressed their appreciation for “the respectful and sincere dialogue” around both the event and the “role and significance” of Pride honorees.
“The City of West Hollywood has always believed that Pride belongs to the community,” the joint statement said. “Since its earliest days, Pride has served as both a celebration and a platform for activism, visibility, resilience, and the ongoing pursuit of equality, dignity, and justice for LGBTQ+ people. … These conversations reflect the passion people have for WeHo Pride and underscore the importance of ensuring that WeHo Pride continues to honor the history, values, and diverse voices of the LGBTQ+ community.”
In a statement, Hilton expressed gratitude for being considered for grand marshal and reaffirmed her commitment to the LGBTQ+ community and causes.
“My reason for wanting to be involved in this year’s WeHo Pride weekend was simple: to celebrate, support, and share in the joy of a community that means a great deal to so many people,” Hilton said. “Pride is, and always will be, about celebrating and uplifting LGBTQ+ voices, experiences, and achievements. … My support for the community and WeHo Pride is unwavering.”
She also mentioned several queer advocacy organizations and events she has supported over the years, including GLAAD, the Elton John AIDS Foundation, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, Dr. Mathilde Krim, God’s Love We Deliver and Project Angel Food.
The latest Pride-related dust-up follows the abrupt cancellation of the Long Beach Pride Festival in May. The city’s Pride Parade took place as planned.
Both snafus have occurred as conservative politicians and advocates continue to attack LGBTQ+ rights and visibility nationwide. Some Republican governors have even pushed for conservative alternatives to Pride month festivities. A recent Gallup poll has found that after years of steady gains, support for marriage equality and same-sex relationships has slipped, particularly among Republicans.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Travolta’s “Propeller: One-Way Night Coach” is One for the Ages — All Ages
Back in the good ol’days — the ’90s — John Travolta would love to get off the topic of “Michael,” “Pulp Fiction” or “Get Shorty” in interviews with film journalists like me and regale us with how utterly besotted he had been with his first flying experience, how that drove his passion for piloting and buying planes and airfield-adjacent luxury houses.
He didn’t even seem to mind having to move house when this or that development balked at him flying his Boeing 707 out of there on the way to locations.
Travolta would tell any journalist who asked that he was writing a kid-friendly book, “Propeller: One Way Night Coach,” based on his first flights as a child in old propeller driven airliners — cheap red-eye overnight treks with too many connections for your average jet age traveller to tolerate.
I remember picking up the book when it came out later in the ’90s — at an airport gift shop — and thinking “Well, that’s as cute as I figured.”
And now, decades later and trapped in the B-movie hell of his post “Gotti” career, Travolta’s turned that cute book into the most delightful, fanciful and colorful bon bon of a movie.
“One Way Night Coach” is a child’s fantasy of flight and flying the way it used to be — with pristine, uncrowded, futuristic airports, an early ’60s era of jets and prop planes with over-uniformed stewardesses in white gloves, the days “Back before every Joe Sweatsock could wedge himself behind a lunch tray and jet off to Raleigh-Durham,” as Sideshow Bob memorably sneered on “The Simpsons’.”
It’s a fictionalized account of Travolta’s childhood about an only child (at least two Travolta siblings have bit parts in this movie) of a never-made-it/never-will actress/single-mom (Kelly Eviston-Quinnett) who indulges her aviation-obsessed eight-year-old with a cheap cross-country overnight flight.
Little Jeff (Clark Shotwell) will revel in almost every Idlewild to Pittsburgh to Dayton to Chicago to Kansas City to Denver and Los Angeles minute. He strolls into the cockpit to meet pilots, charms the stewardesses and checks out the sleeping bunks on the TWA Lockheed Super Constellation, loving even the delays if not the Chicken Cordon Bleu he’s offered on legs of the journey that offer a meal.
And as he’s an observant child, he comments (Travolta narrates) on his 50ish mother’s vamping and posing, her choice of cigarettes (Newports) and drinks, the solo traveling men whose attention she pursues and earns.
“I was her best audience,” adult Jeff remembers of the mother who’d read him plays as bedtime stories and delusionally hopes that this trip to Los Angeles might be her “big break” even though she’s pushing 50.
“Hollywood called,” she’d explain about their overnight cheap flight arrangements to ticket agents and crew. “They told me to take the next flight!”
At every turn, Jeff meets or sees kindness — stewardesses who indulge his many questions and bump them up to first class on the mostly-empty planes, a captain who fixes his toy model of a Constellation, a mentally ill flyer who flips out but is calmed by a flight attendant who isn’t overworked and frazzled in jet-powered tin-can jammed with Joe and Jane Sweatsocks who think nothing of traveling in their pajamas.
Normally, I cringe at pictures this reliant on voice-over narration. I recoil from stars who populate their picture with Sandler etc. offspring. But “Propeller” is unfailingly sweet and never cloying.
Sure, it’s fictionalized. But if you’ve followed Travolta’s life and career, a lot of him is in this — his raptoruous engagement with flying, an indulged child who developed a taste for fine food and creature comforts, a mother who was his guiding star as an actor.
I get why there are less adoring reviews than mine floating around “Propeller.” It’s unfailingly sweet. Mom’s man-hunting is seriously dated. This TWA tale is decorated with Gershwin’s majestic “Rhapsody in Blue” — United Airlines’ signature tune. And Travolta’s been around long enough for recent generations to come up and not feel a connection to the “Saturday Night Fever/Get Shorty” star whose career has fallen off and life has been visited by too much tragedy.
But I’d hate to be seated next to anybody who doesn’t appreciate this adorable, pristine and nearly perfect aviation fantasy on any flight, much less an overnight one.
Rating: TV-PG
Cast: Clark Shotwell, Kelly Eviston-Quinnett, Ellen Travolta, Ella Beau Travolta, Olga Hoffmann and John Travolta.
Credits: Scripted and directed by John Travolta, based on his book. An Apple TV+ release.
Running time: 1:01
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