Films from Sweden rarely become cultural events in New York. Brace yourselves. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the Swedish film with English subtitles based on the best selling book by Steig Larsson, opens tomorrow. Get your tickets now. This is one movie you don’t want to miss.

Larsson’s trilogy has become a global phenomenon. The other books in the series include The Girl Who Played with Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest. The latter has not yet been published in the U.S. and as evidence of the series’ popularity many diehard fans have ordered the book from Amazon UK.

Fans of the books will not be disappointed with the film. From beginning to end, this is a thrill ride with an engrossing mystery, intriguing characters, and the kind of action (very bad guys getting their punishment) that has the audience cheering. The writers have sharpened Larsson’s story, eliminating some of the subplots that filled out the book but would be a distraction on screen.

Larsson succeeded in creating appealing characters, so casting these roles was key. Here, the film makers struck gold, enlisting Noomi Rapace to play Lisbeth Salander, the charismatic “Girl” whose violent streak and computer skills make her a formidable opponent. Those who underestimate her do so at their peril. She is the best, albeit unconventional, researcher employed to vet journalist Mikael Blomkvist, played by Michael Nyqvist. Swedish industrialist Henrik Vanger, wants to hire Blomkvist to find his beloved great-niece who disappeared when she was a teenager. Vanger suspects one of his greedy relatives but has never been able to uncover the guilty party. Impressed with Blomkvist’s skills and tenacity (he’s convicted of libel for refusing to back down on a series of stories), Vanger convinces the journalist to delve into this decades-old mystery.

Salander, with her Goth dress, numerous tattoos and piercings, is an unlikely heroine with a complicated back story. Rapace is terrific, showing the violent Salander as well as the vulnerable young woman. Through flashbacks, we learn that as a child, Salander tried to kill her father, an abusive Russian thug, by tossing a firebomb into his car.

Salander was attempting to protect her mother, but her actions labeled her as a juvenile offender, putting her in the system. When her longtime guardian becomes ill, she finds herself at the mercy of the sadist, Nils Bjurman (Peter Andersson, above). The scenes involving these two are graphic and grisly. The director has pulled no punches showing the abuse Salander suffers at the hands of someone who is supposed to be helping her. Similarly, when she retaliates, the camera doesn’t turn away.

Freed from Bjurman, Salander continues to follow Blomkvist’s investigation by hacking into his computer. She manages to decipher a series of numbers that have Blomkvist puzzled. When the two finally meet, Salander already knows a lot about Blomkvist while he remains clueless about her motivations. He’s drawn to her and doesn’t resist when she acts on her attraction for him. But these are two emotionally damaged individuals and their relationship will not be an easy one. (Departing from the book, the movie wisely chose to jettison the affair Mikael was carrying on with a colleague at his magazine).

Yellowbird Productions has filmed the entire trilogy, with all three movies already released abroad. This first film will no doubt fuel enthusiasm for the other two Swedish productions. U.S. filmmakers are on the case, with Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, and George Clooney all interested in playing Blomkvist. Kristen Stewart is rumored to be in talks to play Salander. Besides the casting, setting is important. The bleak Swedish landscape is as much a character in the film as Salander. Could the action take place in New York? L.A.? Whatever casting and location decisions are made for an American version, the bar has been set high—very high.

The best writers are able to paint a picture with words and transport us to places we have never been before. Mingmei Yip’s novel, Petals from the Sky, accomplishes that and more. We travel along with the protagonist, Meng Ning, on her physical, spiritual, and emotional journey from inside the world of Buddhist nuns in Hong Kong and China to the apartments and cafes of Paris. The grandest compliment one can pay to Mingmei’s work is that after reading Petals from the Sky, one longs to visit the places she has so beautifully detailed in her book.

Mingmei’s writing, however, never reads like a travel brochure. Her words, whether she is describing the landscape of Hong Kong or the ritual of preparing tea, are crafted with great care. And she manages to get inside the heads of her characters so we understand their feelings, reactions, and motivations. Mingmei’s skill is even more impressive since English is not her native language and the first books she wrote, academic ones, were written in Chinese. “I started to write at a very young age, fifteen,” she says. “In Hong Kong I did a lot of academic writing, a completely different kind of writing because you have to have a reference and an index.” She also published a collection of her essays as well as poems, all in Chinese. “They’re very romantic,” she says of her poems.

There is much romance in her novel, too. And if the story rings true that’s because Mingmei drew on her own personal experiences. “It’s my story, though I added a lot,” says Mingmei. Like Meng Ning, Mingmei grew up with a fascination for Buddhist nuns, met her American husband during a Buddhist retreat, and studied for her PhD in Paris.

In Petals, Meng Ning, adversely affected by her parents’ unhappy marriage, sets out to find for herself a much different life, one of prayer and solitude without men. Arriving at a Buddhist retreat—where the Buddhist nun she admires, Yi Kong, will play a prominent role—she soon falls in with an American doctor who rescues her from a fast moving fire inside the temple.

Unlike Buddhist monks, less is known about the insular world of Buddhist nuns. “I did grow up with the Buddhist nuns,” Mingmei says, explaining that there are two different kinds of Buddhist nuns. “One is what people have in mind—the hermits in a mountain meditating, living a life of solitude, and celibacy,” she says. “But actually all the nuns I know are what I call business nuns. They are very powerful people. They mingle with socialites, celebrities, and politicians because they get huge donations. They are very rich themselves because they need money for the temple. But they are so powerful! They’re millionaires—I’m not kidding. But they use the money. They’re not going around wearing 10-carat diamond rings.”

In Petals, Meng Ning is torn between two worlds—the secular one represented by the doctor, Michael Fuller, and the religious one embodied by Yi Kong, who regards Meng Ning as her protégé. Even when Meng Ning agrees to marry Michael, she second guesses her decision. No matter where she turns, she seems to find herself unable to fit in, whether with Michael’s superficial friends in Paris or the purpose-driven nuns in China.

Mingmei, however, had less trouble defining her route. “I came from Hong Kong and I had a very good job as a professor for the university,” Mingmei says. After meeting her husband, Geoffrey Redmond, an endocrinologist, they soon moved to the U.S. and she began to write novels. Petals is actually her first novel, although her second novel, Peach Blossom Pavilion, about a geisha prostitute, was published first. Her third novel features a female adventurer. “She’s very daring and falls in love all the time,” Mingmei says with a laugh. She also has written children’s books including Chinese Children’s Favorite Stories.

Mingmei may be living in America now, but her exotic looks and dress show that she has not left her previous life behind. Her black blouse is embellished with colorful embroidery typical of fine garments from China and delicate jade earrings dangle from her ears. She laughs easily and her enthusiasm for her work and the process of writing is infectious. While her favorite writers are Chinese, she has praise for Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger’s book, Highest Duty. “It was very touching,” she says of the book by the U.S. Airways pilot who landed his plane in the Hudson River saving all aboard.

While Mingmei calls the Buddhist philosophy “profound,” she practices less now than in the past. Copying verses in calligraphy is now her form of meditation.

For more information and to order Mingmei’s books, go to her website, www..mingmeiyip.com

Text and Photos by Carol Toscano

On March 8th, Gotham Hall New York City, with its phenomenal seven-story turn-of-the-century gilded Ballroom, housed SAVOR, the annual gastronomic fundraising event benefiting the Gay Men’s Health Crisis (GMHC). This year’s event, “Passing the Whisk, A Culinary Relay,” featured guest judges from Food Network’s Chopped and guest chefs from some of New York’s most magnificent restaurants. Food aside, the venue and décor, clearly, were stars of the evening with dramatic lighting, ceiling architecture with a brilliant chandelier, balconies overlooking the opulent Ballroom and best of all, topiaries crafted from bell peppers and salad fixings - a culinary wonderland - adorning the lavish table settings!

The evening was hosted and chaired by Chopped Celebrity Chef Ted Allen.

Since becoming a guest blogger for www.eyeslipface.com (E.L.F. cosmetics) last year, I have been intrigued by the company. How do they create and sell such fabulous cosmetics for as little as $1 a piece? The packaging is gorgeous and the products I have tried can’t be beat.

I recently had the opportunity to meet and interview the bright, dynamic co-founder of this young and growing company–Joseph Shamah (referred to by everyone as Joey). We met in the company’s brand new beautiful offices where I got to see the whole line of products and meet some members of his team.

Shamah started the business as a college student at New York University and is still under 30 years old. He has a background in consumer goods and apparel, but found an opening in the high quality/low priced make-up market and created his product line in conjunction with cosmetics guru Scott Vincent Borba (Hard Candy, Shiseido, and Neutrogena).

E.L.F. was launched in 2004 as an “opening price point” (aka inexpensive) cosmetic brand that was then only sold online. E.L.F. products are currently sold at a variety of discount stores across the U.S. and in Europe. The products are also sold at select Target stores. According to Shamah, E.L.F. cosmetics mission is to “educate women about make-up and make-up application.” E.L.F. prides itsE.L.F. on providing high quality/low priced products that make it easy for women to achieve a variety of looks. For example: women can purchase a five-piece makeup kit for $5 (including brushes) to be used to create a smoky eye perfect for evening.

The E.L.F. customer is primarily a woman who appreciates value. The customers love the smart packaging, and the “cheap/chic” cachet that the brand connotes. Loyal customers range from college students, women who are new to the workplace and moms on a budget. Shamah has also created an E.L.F. studio line which is slightly more expensive ($3 a product vs. $1 for the E.L.F. line). The Studio line is marketed as the professional line of cosmetics.

Shamah does not spend money on advertising the E.L.F. brands. His customers typically learn about the products through word-of-mouth or through the many magazines that feature the company’s products in editorial pieces. The company does a lot of marketing via social media and is active on Twitter and Facebook. E.L.F. does a great job of increasing traffic through their beauty blog and their popular “refer a friend” promotions as well.
Next up for Shamah’s E.L.F. brand is likely to be a foray into skin care products, and continuing to expand E.L.F. products distribution across the Asia and Europe.

She calls every night before you go to bed. He calls every morning when you wake up. She reminds you to bring sunscreen before your trip to Aruba. He leaves twenty frantic messages on your phone (and in your inbox) to check on your flight status. She bought you your Tumi rolling suitcase for your birthday. He bought you too many shots. Heck, I’m not talking about your girlfriend or boyfriend. I’m talking about your parents.

Parents want the best for their children. They want to protect them in every way possible. But there is such a thing as being an over-protective parent. When it comes to dating and relationships, many parents do not understand the limitations and boundaries. Now, I share just about everything with my immediate family, so they are fully aware of my dating situations, stories and the fact that I write these articles. Luckily, they do understand my want and need for some privacy and don’t ask follow-up questions TOO often (thank God).

That being said, sometimes they need to be given a limited access pass. Heck, if you read my article “The Thousands of Boys in Two Thousand And Nine” you’d recall that my over-eager yenta of a mother gave my business card to a complete stranger! Granted, we dated for six months, but that’s neither here nor there! Anyway, I guess that’s just what (Jewish) parents do. They’re set to ignite and they have a ticking timer. When a child is of marriageable age, that timer goes off rather abruptly and forcefully. Anyone and anything in their path of destruction gets hit. Head on. And without warning.

Why do some parents not understand or respect bounderies? Why do some parents need to be put in the corner in time-out. The issue of boundaries raises an even thornier question. Should parents be allowed to intervene in their kids love life at all? How much is too much? How much can kids control it? You need to renegotiate your relationship, establish new boundaries, and let them know the best way they can support you. So, here’s my take on it all. Here’s a little advice for both you kids and parents tuning in.

For The Kids

Limit Their Access
Yes, your mom will call you five hundred times a day to see if you’ve signed up for JDate. Tell her yes, but don’t give her your password. Give your parents enough information so they feel in the loop and informed but do not tell them every scrutinizing up to the minute detail. Keep some stuff to yourself and maintain a little mystery. Bring out your Burberry trenchcoat, sunglasses, and hat. You’re not you, you’re secret agent 007. You’re not on your way to a date at Diablo Royale, you’re investigating a potential poisoning at the hot dog stand on Seventh avenue. If your parents push with questions, just talk into your pen as you run away.

They’ve Been There, Done That
OK, maybe you don’t want to think about your dad ever having been, well, an actual guy. Like. Ever. Ever. But your parents are your parents because they’ve already lived through the various phases of life. Well, more or less successfully. They’ve had broken hearts. They’ve dated the one that won’t committ. They’ve been cheated on. They’ve waited for him or her to call them back. (Probably on a land line, though.) Hey! They came out the other end, right? And they at least found each other, right? They usually know what they’re talking about. Try to listen a little.

They’ll Be There When He’s Not
Go ahead and let them meddle, a bit. If they meddle beyond the line? Heck, I don’t know. Ground them. Take away their laptop. Grab the car keys. But remember, someday things in your quest to find Mr. Right might go all wrong and they may (likely) have some wisdom to impart. And they will be there to support you, stand by you and tell you everything will be OK. Don’t push them away completely. Someday, you’ll need them. But I know you all know that.

Think Before You Speak
You might be able to forgive your significant other, but your parents won’t forget it. Your parents will remember the times he made you cry. They will remember the time he stood you up. They won’t forget the negative qualities he posseses with which you spoke of so candidly. They will not forget ANY of it. So, unless you want them to always have a bad impression, try to use a little restraint. That way, if things work out, they won’t always think of him as the less than perfect guy.

For The Parents

Let Us Learn From Our Own Mistakes
Sure, you patched up our cuts and kissed our boo boo’s when we were younger. But you can’t restrict us from getting hurt forever. Children (and adults) learn from playing. The odds we will get hurt somewhere along the way is rather inevitable. But you have to let us explore. It is okay to have a relationship and end up with a broken heart. It is also okay to show us how to mend that heart and move on. It is not okay to tell us not to do it again.

Have A Little Tact Or We Will React
Try to show a bit of sensitivity. Don’t ask us every time we speak if we’re dating anyone. Most likely, we’re not but we wished we were. We don’t need (or like) the reminder that we’re not. Fine. The intentions might be right but the advice and questioning isn’t always welcome. Unless you want to start world war III, don’t bug us too much. We don’t need to tell you about every not-so-special person in our life. But we’ll tell you when we meet someone special. Trust me.

If We’re Not Telling You, I’m Telling You There’s A Reason
Maybe he broke up with us. Maybe she’s made it clear she’s just not interested. Good news travels fast. We all know that. If we haven’t mentioned so and so in a few weeks, don’t ask. There’s probably a reason we’ve been pretending they were stolen by aliens and transported to an alternate universe. We’ll let you know if and when they return to the planet earth.

You Don’t Know What Goes On Behind Closed Doors
No worries, I’m not talking about the birds and the bees here. I’m talking about our feelings. You might not like him. You might think he’s not good enough for us. But in the thick walls of our relationship, behind the closed double doors, we might be crazy about each other. Maybe he makes us laugh until we pee our pants. Maybe we have mind blowing, earth shattering, bed breaking sex. Maybe we’re just lonely and in need of some attention and cuddles. Trust. Trust that we’re smart enough to know what’s right for us. Let us figure it out for ourselves. Sometimes, rather often, we will get to the right answer but it’s better if we get to it on our own, when we’re ready and in our own time.

Here’s the thing. I’ve always felt comfortable talking to my parents about my dating life. I think that’s rather obvious given I write dating articles. And sure, I do have the epitome of the smothering, meddling, Jewish mother who drives me crazy sometimes. She gives me neurosis I maybe wouldn’t have otherwise. My dad is pretty cool, actually. But, he, too, likes to be “in the know” if you know what I mean. So ok, my parents might be over-protective. Any guy I’ve dated can definitely atest to that. (I know those ones of you reading this are nodding your head in complete and utter agreement right now, ha!)

Regardless, even when I’m fuming with anger, ignoring their calls and at a bottomless pit of fury, I know that it’s only because they care. They love me. They want the best for me. Parents. We. Know. Don’t think that we don’t. But my goodness, give us a little space. Let us make mistakes. Let us learn from them. Allow us to experience some of the things that you did. When we meet someone, who really makes us happy, you’ll know. We’ll tell you. You’ll meet them. You’ll spend time with them. And yes, you’ll get to interogate them. But, let us be for now. Let us live. Let us date. Let us be kids. Let us fall in love. Let us have great sex. Let us have passion. Let us figure out what we want. Now, I’ve kept this entry very PG for a reason. So go along and forward this to your parents!

I want to know your thoughts! Do you agree? Disagree? Have you already disowned your parents? I won’t sleep until I’ve heard the worst meddling parent stories out there.

It’s 2004 and Barack Obama has been elected to the U.S. Senate. Like a small boy who has always dreamed of going to Disneyland and then been disappointed in the experience, Obama is finding out there’s something to the saying, “Be careful what you wish for.” He finds that the Senate moves at a glacial pace. Enduring an unending monologue by the man that would one day be his running mate, Joe Biden, he passes a note to a colleague, “Shoot me now.” The only difference, he observes to a good friend between the Illinois State Senate, where he served, and the U.S. Senate: the average age in the state legislature, 42 years, in the U.S. legislature, 62 years.

As one begins to delve into Game Change: Obama and the Clintons, McCain and Palin, and the Race of a Lifetime, by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin, about the last Presidential campaign, it becomes clear in the opening pages that Obama never really got into the swing of things on Capitol Hill. Early on, he displays impatience with partisan politics and a seniority system that often rewards those who are least deserving. Reading about Obama’s early days in the Senate, one begins to understand why he is having so much trouble getting his health care plan through Congress. One longs for the days of Lyndon Johnson who knew his way around Congress and succeeded against all odds of pushing through his mandate for a new society. Candidates campaign against Washington and “business as usual.” But once elected, they must work within the very system they railed against.

Who does Obama seek out for guidance? Hillary Clinton, the junior Senator from New York who would be his opponent for the Democratic nomination for President. Hillary gives Obama good advice—get on the right committees, work hard—never dreaming that the novice she takes under her wing would soon dash her hopes of becoming the first female President. Hillary knows the ropes. She knows how to work the Hill. During her short time in the Senate, she has managed to convince the naysayers that she is not just out for the publicity, but is a real workhorse. She has something, however, that Obama lacks: a husband who was once President. It’s a mixed blessing. Bill, intent on continuing the Clinton legacy, cannot help himself. Even when Hillary’s staff tries to tune him out, he manages to get involved, often to the detriment of his wife’s campaign.

It’s that animosity towards the Clintons that causes others to push Obama into the race, despite the fact that his resume was thin. What Obama lacked in experience, however, he made up for in star power. He was a fresh face, representing a departure from business as usual. And his oratory! Young people, in particular, were inspired and came to the polls in droves. The rest, as they say, is history.

The campaign is over. We know the results. Yet reading this detailed account by Heilemann and Halperin helps us understand the arduous course to the White House and why in Washington there are no guarantees. Obama campaigned on a platform of change. Now, however, we are back to business as usual.

Of course the Obama-Hillary drama is only half of the story. The other half involves John McCain and Sarah Palin. And this journalistic duo takes apart that fiasco as well.

Books about campaigns always do well. It seems we can’t get enough of the behind the scenes dramas in politics. Hopefully, we focus less on the extramarital affairs that sometimes occur and more on what makes our public servants tick. That information is something we can take with us whenever we go into the voting booth.

In 1883, Claude Monet was considered the leader of the impressionist painters. And it was at that time, he moved his family to a town outside of Paris, to Giverny. There he created a extensive garden and Japanese pond that would inspire him in his later works. While his naturalistic paintings were well received, his later Water Lillies collection were not so. It wasn’t until they were rediscovered in the twentieth century, that Monet was highly praised, and grew in stature in the impressionistic world.

The Museum of Modern Art has been showcasing, for the first time in its new home, Monet’s mural-sized Water Lillies, and other paintings from his Giverny garden. According to Museum curator and organizer of the exhibition, visitors will see in the single panel, Water Lillies, for example, the multi-layers of paint Monet added over the many months and years he created these paintings. Much like he tended his garden.

Over the years, these paintings had been especially popular among MoMA’s visitors since it offered a calming scene among the hustle and bustle of city life. They will be on exhibition until April 12, so do plan a visit. For special events and other information, log onto the museum website, www.moma.org

There is plenty of great cardio-equipment on the market. However, if I had to choose five pieces of cardio-equipment to help you get in better shape, these are what I’d suggest:

Woodway Force Motorless treadmill: Unfortunately, they are few and far between. Why install a motor in a treadmill when you can power the tread with your own energy? You would think the price would be discounted because there isn’t a motor, but this one costs approximately $11k. Once you run on the Force, you’ll never go back to a normal motorized treadmill.

Versa-Climber: If you only have a few minutes to workout, the Versa Climber is where you should do it. It provides great range of motion in the hips and also a push-pull workout in the upper body. Not only does the Versa-Climber burn more calories per second than any other machine, it can be used for long climbs and short intervals. If you’re looking to build your aerobic base or improve sports performance, get this machine. The price: $450.

The Airdyne Bike: Yes, I am going retro here. However, the Schwinn Airdyne is possibly the best exercise bike on the market. It’s not fancy, uses air for resistance but provides the best bang for your buck in the exercise equipment industry. Simultaneously working your upper and lower body is fantastic for improving aerobic capacity. The price: $850.

The Elliptical: Don’t fall for the faux elliptical. Precor makes the original elliptical, and to this day they are still superior machines. I suggest the Precor 576i. Not only does this machine work both the upper and lower body, the ramp angle changes to simulate different types of movements such as walking, jogging and cross country skiing.

The Slide Board: Ok, so this one is not a machine rather more a piece of fiberglass. However, if you want to get a great cardiovascular workout and improve your balance/stability, my pick is the slide board. Oh yeah, you might just improve your skiing, skating and butt as well.

I am deeply concerned about the alarming decline in the quality of our nation’s criminals. I’m pretty sure our bad guys used to be brainier. That’s because they - like the rest of us - used to occasionally read a book and had never seen an episode of silly reality shows like Jersey Shore and The Bachelor. But consider the actions of some of the rocket scientists who’ve committed crimes just in the last couple of weeks.

There’s the pair of geniuses in Iowa who fled the scene of a botched burglary. They were soon caught. Identification was not difficult, considering the men had used magic marker on their faces to create a disguise. A ski mask would have been so boring.

Then there’s the Pied Piper criminals like the Massachusetts man who crashed into six parked cars, removed his license plate and walked away from his vehicle. How did cops crack the case so quickly? Mr. Brainiac apparently
removed a case of beer from his trunk that dropped and cracked as he made his getaway. Police simply followed the trail of broken beer bottles to their suspect.

Just a couple of days later, two Einstein brothers in Arizona lured a pizza delivery man to an apartment complex, hit him over the head with a coffee pot, grabbed the food and ran away. But it didn’t exactly take the brains of Sherlock Holmes or the courage of Scooby Doo for police to find the bad guys. That’s because the perps left a trail of pizza and wing sauce from the scene of the attack to the front door of the apartment where they were chowing down.

In Montana, a clever fellow broke into the local newspaper office, logged into his Facebook and MySpace accounts to peruse porn, then stole the office candy stash on his way out. Authorities followed a trail of dropped candy wrappers across the street to his sister’s apartment, where they arrested him.

Another example of a criminal not being the sharpest quill on the porcupine is the Texas man, a sworn juror, who returned to the courthouse after a smoke break and put a plastic bag of pot in the change tray before going
through the metal detector. He did manage to get out of jury duty.

Also in the Lone Star State, a man strolled into his former workplace, made eye contact with the owner, went into the restroom and came out wearing a mask. He then pulled a gun out and grabbed a stack of blank checks. As if that wasn’t stupid enough, he tried to cash the stolen checks using his real name.

But my favorite silly criminal of the month is the Florida woman who drove to a jail in a highly intoxicated state and demanded a conjugal visit with an inmate. As far as I know, she didn’t get what she came for.

At this rate of incompetence, our common criminals will soon need some kind of federal assistance to stay in business. And we’ve already got enough crooks getting bailouts.

Jackie Papandrew is an award-winning freelance writer and editor. Her humor writing has been featured in several books, including the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, as well as in numerous publications in the United States, Canada and India. You can read more of her work at www.jackiepapandrew.com.

By Michall Jeffers

The first act of Fela! is an absorbing play; so is the second. The problem is, they exist side by side. The result is an evening that sweeps up the audience in a wave of exuberance, then dashes us to the rocks of brutal reality.

The performers are brilliant. Kevin Mambo is Rock Star exciting, shaking the title role like a terrier with a towel. With this two-time Emmy winner, there’s not a false note anywhere in his acting. The way he sings, the way he moves, the way he looks, all total perfection. Lillias White, as his mother Funmilayo, more than lives up to her son’s image of her as a goddess; she is a queen in presence and in voice. The musicians, the dancers, everyone on stage is true to the Afrobeat, and the house fairly crackles with energy.

This is all enticing to begin with. Why not just relax, have fun, go with it? But there is a nagging undercurrent that just won’t go away. The setting is a raucous nightclub in one of the most dangerous sections of Lagos, Nigeria, in the summer of 1978. While the country is now free of British colonial rule, the government has been taken over by generals and politicians who are rotten with corruption. In this land, there is no justice, no food, no jobs. This we are told by Fela, a self-proclaimed revolutionary, a man with a megahit record, and a harem master deluxe. Sometimes he sings, sometimes he lectures, sometimes he jokes. There is danger everywhere; Nigeria has gone from a place where everything worth anything disappears overseas: petroleum, diamonds, people; to a country where all protest is summarily repressed. We are assured that just being in Fela’s nightclub, “The Shrine,” is perilous.

Confession: I hate audience participation. I don’t want to la-la-la along with the performers. I don’t want to shout “yeah yeah.” I don’t want to be asked if I’ve been in jail. And I don’t want to be sitting next to the guy who raises his hand and answers “yes!” I don’t want to be beguiled into the action; I just want to watch the show from behind the comfort of the fourth wall.

Because once that wall is breached, I have to stop being just an audience member, and start thinking about the situation on stage. Why is Fela told by his mother that he mustn’t leave the country, that he must die if necessary to “save” Nigeria? For Pete’s sake, gather your wives—all of them—and the kids we never see, and get the hell out of Dodge.

While the women on stage are undeniably sensual and desirable, they are clearly nothing more than scantily clad, gyrating symbols of Fela’s lust and conquest. We in the audience know that AIDS is coming, the lion poised to pounce and devour Africa. A woman who is nothing but chattel is a defenseless lamb waiting to be slaughtered. If you really love your people, educate them. This is hard to do while smoking dope and partying nonstop. The only empowered women onstage are the aforementioned sainted mother, and Sandra (Saycon Sengbloh), who is introduced as a Black Power Westerner. She subsequently appears in a version of native cloth and quickly sinks into the ensemble. Why don’t we ever hear from her again? What does she think of her new life as part of the female entourage?

Forgive me, guys. This thinking at the theater is dangerous business.

And it leads us directly into Act Two, which is filled with torture, death, and murder. Somehow, we felt it coming all along, but it is still uncomfortable, and we feel that our emotions have been cruelly manipulated.

All praise must be given to director/writer/choreographer Bill T. Jones, who superbly weaves a spell that is nearly impossible to break. Wig, hair, and makeup designer Cookie Jordan is a creative genius. And costume designer Marina Draghici has completely captured the combination of hedonism and tribalism that reverberates throughout the production.

I wish I could have liked this musical more. There is so much about it that is beautiful and compelling. But there are just too many questions left unanswered, not the least of which is: How is this relevant to us today? What are we supposed to do with this information? What is fact and what fantasy? Because we already know that not everything that is presented as gospel is true. Contrary to what Fela informs us at the beginning of the show, there are no tigers roaming free in Africa.

Did Fela ever actually have a plan for healing bleeding Nigeria? Had he been elected President, would a man so obviously addicted to power have been able to resist misusing it?

At the end of the show, is the audience cheering for a stellar cast in a highly original production, or for the idealzed image of a hero who seems to have facile answers to deeply complex problems?

So hey, why not hang out for a couple of hours, sway to the drums, get swept along with the rhythm of the dance. Sorry; just can’t. You got me thinking.

Fela!, Eugene O’Neill Theatre, 230 West 49th Street
Telecharge.com, 212-239-6200
www.FelaOnBroadway.com

Michall Jeffers is an accomplished cultural journalist. She writes extensively, both in print and online. Her eponymous cable TV show is syndicated throughout the tri-state area, and features celebrity interviews, reviews, and commentary. She is a voting member of Drama Desk, Outer Critics Circle, American Theatre Critics Association, International Association of Theatre Critics, Dance Critics Association, and National Book Critics Circle. michalljeffers@verizon.net. michalljeffers.com