Aurelia Butler

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    in Music

    How ‘Boots on the Ground’ Two-Stepped Onto Everyone’s Summer Playlist

    Black Southern line dance culture, and a co-sign from Beyoncé, has helped to popularize the song and its fan-snapping moves.Wagener, S.C., is home to a population of 631, a proud history of asparagus crops and now an unlikely dance phenomenon.To write “Boots on the Ground,” the stomping, midtempo anthem with a wailing chorus, also known as “Where Them Fans At?,” the singer 803Fresh, born Douglas Furtick, lifted a bit of vernacular from the dancers who attend trail rides in the area. Those rides — part horsemanship display, part social gathering — frequently culminate in field parties, where line dancers and steppers show off choreographed moves to Southern soul and country anthems.“I heard a lot of the steppers: They were like, ‘Hey, we got boots on the ground tonight,’” 803Fresh said, describing how they would hype up a trail ride to friends and neighbors. The song’s central query was a genuine one. At one outing, he saw steppers wielding fans and tried to buy one — to no avail. Writing the lyrics, he said, he did not yet fully understand the significance of the fans that were ubiquitous.“It’s a functional piece that’s now being used as part of a cultural statement but it’s always been with us historically,” said DaLyah Jones, a historian and cultural critic who has studied Black Southern arts. She cited their use as a fashionable accessory carried to church, in queer and ballroom culture, and as a functional way to beat the heat at these outdoor gatherings. Items such as napkins and handkerchiefs have also been used as fans and an extension of the dancing.803Fresh performing “Boots on the Ground” at a Juneteenth event in Lancaster, S.C.Nora Williams for The New York TimesSince the release of “Boots on the Ground” in December, the song has steadily spread in an unusual way: Its accompanying line dance has made it a sensation both of social media and the I.R.L. gatherings where a community of Black Southerners could care less about outside trends. It has traveled beyond field dances to TikTok and back out into the world, most notably landing on the stage of Beyoncé’s “Cowboy Carter” tour, where the pop superstar performs part of the line dance during a section of her show.

    @demkuntryfolks Okayyy okayyy, I can get Jiggy with this 🪭🪭🪭🐎 #trailridersoftiktok #linedance #backyard #cowgirls #newlinedance #georgia #linedancing #southcarolina #northcarolina ♬ original sound – Djpayme We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    in Movies

    William Cran, ‘Frontline’ Documentarian, Is Dead at 79

    Producing or directing, he made more than 50 films over 50 years, including a series on the English language and an exploration of J. Edgar Hoover’s secret life.William Cran, an Emmy-winning master of the television documentary whose expansive body of work, primarily for the BBC and the PBS program “Frontline,” delved into complex subjects like the history of the English language and the private life of the F.B.I. director J. Edgar Hoover, died on June 4 in London. He was 79.His wife, Vicki Barker-Cran, said cause was complications of Parkinson’s disease. He died in a hospital.Mr. Cran produced more than 50 documentaries over 50 years and directed many of them.He began his career with the BBC, but he mostly worked as an independent producer, toggling between jobs on both sides of the Atlantic.He was most closely associated with “Frontline,” for which he produced 20 documentaries on a wide range of subjects — some historical, like the four-part series “From Jesus to Christ” (1998) and “The Secret Life of J. Edgar Hoover” (1993), and some focused on current events, like “Who’s Afraid of Rupert Murdoch” (1995).Some of Mr. Cran’s documentaries were historical, like the four-part series “From Jesus to Christ” (1998).PBSHe won a slew of honors, including four Emmys, four duPont-Columbia University awards, two Peabodys and an Overseas Press Club Award.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    in Movies

    ‘KPop Demon Hunters’ Review: Singing, Slinging and Slashing

    Beyond the somewhat silly premise of this Netflix animated film is a charming, funny and artfully punchy original universe.Lest you roll your eyes and think of it as a four-quadrant-friendlier version of “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter,” “KPop Demon Hunters” immediately establishes its premise, getting any prospective scoffing out of the way.For generations, a voice-over intro explains, girl groups have used their popular songs to secretly trap hordes of demons underground and keep the world safe. The latest group on their trail? Huntrix, a K-pop girl band that, in its fight against the sinister Gwi-ma (Lee Byung-hun) and his demons, is close to completing the Golden Honmoon, a protective barrier that will permanently keep evil forces at bay. But the girl group soon faces its toughest challenge yet: a demon boy band.With that somewhat silly logline behind us, what we’ll find in this Netflix animated film, directed by Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans, is an original universe that is charming, funny and artfully punchy.It’s a Sony Pictures Animation film that shares a kind of lineage with the studio’s recent hit “Spider-Verse” franchise that is most apparent in the similar visual style. But otherwise what it borrows mostly is a more holistic and technical sense of the cinematic, a philosophy of approach that is rare in big-budget animation films. The action sequences are fluid and immersive, the art is frequently striking and the music (catchy, if formulaic earworms) is a properly wielded and dynamic storytelling tool.And as for the cheesy girl group vs. boy band story, Kang and Appelhans have a sly sense of humor about it all, too; the movie is funniest when it pokes at pop culture that is highly manufactured, from K-pop to K-dramas to mass-produced singing competitions — the very things the film itself would never stoop to.Rated PG. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More

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    Review: ‘The Comet/Poppea’ Merges Opera’s Past and Present

    A Monteverdi masterpiece and a new work by George Lewis are played simultaneously in an American Modern Opera Company production at Lincoln Center.When you enter the David H. Koch Theater for “The Comet/Poppea,” you are directed not into the auditorium but through some passageways and onto the stage. It’s a rare perspective to be facing a hall full of empty seats, with the delightful, rebellious undercurrent of being where you’re not supposed to be.Being where you’re not supposed to be is one of the few threads tying together the two operas that are played more or less simultaneously over the following 90 minutes. Monteverdi’s “L’Incoronazione di Poppea” (1643) charts the improbable climb of Nero’s mistress to the throne of the Roman Empire. George Lewis’s “The Comet” (2024), set about a century ago, imagines a Black man who finds himself in a once segregated, now abandoned space after an apocalyptic event.The idea of intermingling these very different works came from the director Yuval Sharon, who is always cooking up half-mad ideas like this, and the American Modern Opera Company, or AMOC, a collective exploring its capacious vision of the art form over the next month during a residency at Lincoln Center.The audience for “The Comet/Poppea,” which opened on Wednesday and runs through Saturday, sits in two sections facing each other across the stage. Between them is a large circular platform that has been divided in two. One side is the realistic, amber-lit restaurant of “The Comet”; the other, where “Poppea” plays, is a heavenly vision of a pristinely white Roman bath, the walls encrusted with white plaster flowers.This turntable is constantly rotating, in an effort to convey a sense of “a visual and aural spiral,” as Sharon writes in a program note. But while “The Comet/Poppea” tries to conjure a cyclone, whipping together past and present, Black and white, high class and low, naturalism and stylization, it ends up feeling more like a trudge.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    in Movies

    ‘Elio’ Review: Pixar’s Fantastical, Familiar World

    An orphaned boy is whisked away on a visually wondrous cosmic adventure, but he returns home with mostly reassuring lessons.Colors pop, lines flow and an alien world shimmers like the Vegas strip after dark in Pixar’s latest, “Elio,” a lackluster science-fiction adventure about a lonely boy and extraterrestrials who come in peace, except when they don’t. By turns appealing and drearily familiar, the movie offers the expected visual pleasures and characters who range from the gently exaggerated to the hyperbolic. Some have rubbery countenances and curious appendages; others have enormous eyes that water with emotion. Yours may glaze over in boredom.A morality tale with far-out friendlies and a glowering, growling Marvelesque villain, “Elio” has predictable Pixar bright spots, but the story is a drag. It tracks the title character (voiced by Yonas Kibreab), an 11-year-old who’s been recently and mysteriously orphaned. He now lives with his aunt, Olga (Zoe Saldaña), an Air Force Major who monitors space junk at the coastal California base where she’s stationed. Loving yet clueless, she is at a loss on how to raise a child, especially one who’s unhappy and feels out of place with her or anywhere. (Her parenting book is studded with a rainbow of sticky notes.) Less comically, Olga is especially ill-equipped to deal with a grieving child, a failing that she shares with the filmmakers.Orphans are a storybook staple — from Disney’s original “Snow White” to “Lilo & Stitch” — though not on Planet Pixar. Yet to judge by this movie’s at times abruptly fluctuating tones and eagerness to dry every tear, Elio’s greatest issue isn’t that his parents are dead but that the filmmakers are uncomfortable with his grief. Early on, while out with his aunt, he hides under a table and weeps. Soon, though, the story has revved up, and he’s humorously sending messages into space begging to be taken away from Olga, Earth, everything. “Aliens abduct me!!!,” Elio scrawls on a beach, before lying down and grinning hopefully at the sky.After some more narrative busyness, character development and scene changes, the filmmakers grant Elio’s wish and send him off on his hoped-for cosmic adventure. One evening, while Olga is at work and Elio waits for deliverance, he is pulled from the beach on a beam of light, an image of alien abduction with a suggestively rapturous religious undertone. Once he achieves liftoff, the movie starts to as well. It grows more vividly hued and nicely unbound, and Elio is soon careering through bursts of color and graphic forms, much like the astronaut in the oft-copied lysergic star gate sequence in “2001: A Space Odyssey.”Elio predictably exits our solar system and ends up in the Communiverse, a sparkly, kaleidoscopic alternative realm where the directors Madeline Sharafian and Domee Shi modestly cut loose. (The script is by Julia Cho, Mark Hammer and Mike Jones.) A jumble of landscapes rich in lightly phantasmagoric embellishments, it functions as a kind of hangout and otherworldly United Nations for extraterrestrials. There, Elio zips past terrains with an array of biomorphic and geometric forms. He also, via a translator, chats up others, including a talking, floating blue supercomputer, Ooooo (Shirley Henderson), a kind of A.I. Jiminy Cricket, if one that tends to look like a dialogue bubble with eyes and a mouth.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘28 Years Later’ Review: Danny Boyle Revives His Monsters

    The director returns to the postapocalyptic Britain he conjured in his 2002 movie “28 Days Later,” this time with a father and son running from flesh-eaters. Mom joins in, too.After more than two decades of dipping in and out of genres that have taken him from the Milky Way to Mumbai, Danny Boyle has returned to the juicily gruesome world of consuming violence, human and otherwise, with “28 Years Later.” Once again, flesh-eating creatures are wandering, crawling and, most worryingly, running amok, ravaging every conceivable living being. Humanity remains on the run with some souls safely barricaded in isolation. It’s a sensible precaution that — along with all the gnawed bodies, shredded nerves and broken relationships — makes this futuristic freakout seem as plausible as it is familiar.Pitched between sputtering hope and despairing resignation, the movie is a classic boys-into-men coming-of-age story updated for the postapocalypse and future installments. On a lushly green British island, a ragtag collection of adults and children are doing their best to keep the tattered remains of civilization intact. Inside a protected hamlet, they live and congregate much as their peasant forbears might have centuries earlier. They share precious resources; nuzzle sexily in the dark. There are threats and some provocative mysteries, like the figure who appears in a ghoulish mask that’s suggestive of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream.”This is the third addition to a cycle that opened with “28 Days Later” (2002), a violent parable also directed by Boyle in which humanity is stricken into near-oblivion. (The 2007 follow-up, “28 Weeks Later,” was directed by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo.) The 2002 movie opens in Britain with animal-rights activists set on freeing some lab chimps. Even after an on-site scientist helpfully explains that the animals are infected with rage, the activists keep blundering toward doom. As they restrain the scientist, he shouts, “You’ve no idea—” just before a chimp chows down on a would-be liberator in a flurry of blood-red imagery.Like the new movie, “28 Days Later” was written by Alex Garland and draws on different influences, most obviously zombie movies. (Boyle directed the screen adaptation of Garland’s novel “The Beach”; they also collaborated on “Sunshine,” a very different dystopian fantasy.) In interviews, Boyle readily discussed the inspirations for “28 Days Later,” realistic and otherwise, citing the Ebola virus as well as “The Omega Man” (1971), a thriller set in the wake of germ warfare. Even so, he pushed back against genre-pigeonholing “28 Days Later.” “See, it’s not a film about monsters — it’s a film about us,” he told Time Out. That our monsters are always us is as obvious as the all-too-human face of Frankenstein’s creature.Whether zombies or not, the infected in “28 Days Later” kill indiscriminately, much like the undead that George A. Romero first sicced on us in 1968 with “Night of the Living Dead.” One striking, nerve-thwacking difference between these generations of insatiable ghouls is their pacing. Along with Zack Snyder in his zippy 2004 remake of Romero’s “Dawn of the Dead,” Boyle popularized the now-familiar fast zombie. Romero’s tend to stagger and lurch with their arms raised like scarily ravenous toddlers, moving slowly enough for some of their swifter would-be victims to escape, though not always. Quickening the pace of the creatures added genre novelty, and it expressed the real world’s ever accelerating rhythms.The pace complemented Boyle’s filmmaking, which tends toward speed. That’s very much in evidence in “28 Years Later,” which opens with some pro forma background about the state of the world (it’s still bad) and a freaky episode in a house that echoes the opener in the previous movie. The scene here begins with a group of obviously terrified children shut up in a room watching “Teletubbies” on a TV. It’s an unsettling scene that grows all the more disturbing as noises from outside the room grow progressively louder. As the thumps and panicked voices rise, increasing and then converging, the editing rapidly goes into overdrive and grows choppy, finally becoming a grim churn of tots, Teletubbies and flesh-eaters.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More