Year: 2006

Al Gore’s book Earth in the Balance was a relatively early, mostly ignored, and extremely prescient look at global warming and the fate of our planet. Thirteen years after its publication, we’re still waiting to see the kind of widespread social and political awareness that could bring about change and slow the planet’s demise. So is Gore; since his defeat in the 2000 election, he has ramped up his efforts to pull people’s heads out of the sand, and this documentary could do what his book couldn’t—it’s surprisingly engrossing. It catches him at work, trying to convince those in power to make a difference before it’s too late. We applaud these efforts, but can’t help but get exercised at Gore himself. Where was all that passion during his campaign? Winning the election surely would have been a more effective way to help avert environmental disasters yet to come—which are presented here intelligently, rather than sensationally. 612-825-6006; www.landmarktheatres.com

Fans of Nick Cave and his band, the Bad Seeds, recognize that Cave has something of an obsession with murder and the torment that so often leads to it. So it’s not so surprising that, with his first screenwriting effort, the Aussie rock icon should focus on some other bad seeds—the gunslingers and thugs who ran rough-shod through the Australian Outback in the 1880s. Cave was originally tapped to write the score for this Australian Western, but director John Hillcoat ended up asking him also to pen the script, given the narrative gifts that come through in his songs. The proposition of the title is this: Three brutish brothers stand accused of a bloody crime. One of them—played by Guy Pearce—is ordered to hunt down the brother regarded as the greatest threat, in order to save the life of the third. Gun fights, jail busts, and bloody scraps with Aborigines thereby ensue, in what is being hailed as a gorgeous and original film. www.landmarktheatres.com

In a valiant effort to create public art for St. Paul that doesn’t involve globe-headed cartoon characters, a group of stone carvers from Minnesota and around the world have gathered to unleash shapes and figures from blocks of our state’s finest quarried stone. A geologist’s bouquet of granite, limestone, sandstone, and gneiss will fall away to reveal visions from fourteen artists—six from hereabouts and eight from countries as far flung as Japan, Zimbabwe, Egypt, and Finland. They are all working in public, under the open skies, for six weeks, only having chosen the stone they would work with once they arrived on the site in St. Paul. Call it performance art for the very, very patient—and for those ready to duck when the occasional errant chip of rock becomes airborne. The artists will draw on inspiration from specific locations in St. Paul and its suburbs, where their finished works will be installed. Kellogg Blvd. and Summit Ave., St. Paul; 651-290-0921; www.minnesotarocks.org

In a way, Alexander Calder is a movement of one—his mobiles, those feats of balance and grace, pretty much own the category. But Calder owes his inspiration to the surrealist movement, and this exhibit places him firmly within that larger context, demonstrating how his work grew out of influences from contemporaries such as Marcel Duchamp, Max Ernst, and René Magritte. Calder’s drawings, sculptures, and mobiles are displayed amid works by other surrealists—Ernst and Magritte as well as Miró and Yves Tanguy—bringing a new perspective to his mobiles (the concept for which Duchamp thought up), and to his overall sense of humor and playfulness. This exhibition coincides with the opening of the institute’s new wing and renovated galleries. 612-870-3200; www.artsmia.org

If the current U.S. government funded art that reflected its ideals, we might see Thomas Kinkade’s cottage scenes take over museums as well as shopping malls. (Then again, Kinkade’s apparently acquired a rep for groping women and urinating in elevators, so perhaps he’s more bad-boy art star than the Bush administration might wish to sanction.) In the former Soviet Union, a system of art patronage led to the establishment of the Socialist Realists, a school of art that, like Kinkade, was none too subtle in lauding home, hearth, and country. But even as the Socialist Realists projected Communist ideals, celebrated Soviet leaders, and stayed well within the bounds of staunchly conservative stylistic traditions, another group that became known as “the nonconformists” was painting a vastly different picture of the Soviet experience—often at extreme risk to their own careers and even lives. Shown together in this fascinating and rare convergence, dozens of works reveal a world that was, and a world that never could have been. 5500 Stevens Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-821-9045; www.tmora.org

It remains to be seen whether Brazilian singer Seu Jorge will perform his own sexy, samba-driven songs, or the set of the David Bowie covers that he played in the film The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. We’ll hope for more of the former, since the Bowie songs, sung in Portuguese to spare and jangly guitar accompaniment, have overshadowed Jorge’s own noteworthy songwriting. It only takes a brief listen to last year’s Cru to realize that his is hardly a novel talent, one marked by the street influences from a homeless childhood in Rio de Janeiro. 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; www.thecedar.org

KBEM continues to surprise us—and not just by staying on the air. Amid continued funding threats, this tiny, low-budget, low-profile radio station keeps its programming fresh and relevant. Thursday nights, for instance, there’s “Riverwalk Jazz,” a Texas-produced show that explores the history of jazz through archival recordings, interviews, and performances of classics by the Jim Cullum Jazz Band. In touring and recording, this accomplished seven-piece outfit focuses on New Orleans and Chicago-style jazz, paying homage through a meticulous attention to historical detail. 612-371-5656; www.minnesotaorchestra.org