A truly good street taco is hard to find in the best of times, let alone within walking distance from a Midwestern college campus. For too long, we have settled for late night drives to the Quarry Taco Bell or frenzied DoorDash orders from mediocre Tex-Mex chains with corporatized flavors. Newly opened Tacos Locos in the heart of Dinkytown ensures that we won’t have to suffer any longer.

Opened last month by local restaurateur Ruben Arellano (El Loro Mexican Restaurant owner), the new taqueria seeks to achieve authenticity and freshness with their menu. Early staples unsurprisingly include their wide variety of tacos — available fillings include birria, al pastor and even lengua (beef tongue, delicious), all gingerly tucked into fresh corn tortilla blankets — though the vast menu also offers tortas, sopes, enchiladas and much more.

Nestled on 15th Avenue Southeast between University and 4th, Tacos Locos makes a warm, bright addition to the existing restaurants at Sydney Hall and Dinkydome (Raising Canes and D.P. Dough, to name a few). Upon entry, employees offer a smile from the open kitchen. Large street-facing windows illuminate the alternating citrus colored walls.

Open from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. on Monday through Saturday, the taqueria focuses on dinner and lunch service and offers an array of different soft drinks as well as their own housemade horchata and aguas frescas. Though the menu is meat-heavy, there are plenty of meatless options and opportunities for customization to suit dietary needs. They also boast dozens of different platter specials that make a perfect standalone meal.

I stopped in on a (taco) Tuesday afternoon for what the person working the counter helpfully told me was a crowd favorite, their birria tacos, along with my favorite flavor of Jarritos, and seated myself at a sturdy wooden table to watch them prepare my meal.

Served with fresh lime and a zingy cilantro-based sauce on the side, the tacos arrived crisp and glistening with the birria broth. The gracefully folded corn tortillas seemed to glow from within their parchment-lined basket. The interior bulged with adobo-stewed goat meat, crisp white onions, gooey chihuahua cheese and cilantro.

Each bite contained the perfect amount of everything, with all flavors in harmony with one another. The sharp tang of lime and cilantro cut through the rich cheese and succulent stewed meat, the outside crunch balancing with a springy interior.

Satisfied and a little greasy (in a good way), I decided to order dessert to go, thinking a little baggie of churros would be the perfect accompaniment for my walk home. I thought wrong. The towering and delicious result was hardly fit for a walk-and-eat situation.

First, a generous heap of vanilla bean ice cream placed in the center of a pinwheel of fried goodness. Then came a twirling whipped cream cloak, enveloping the mountain. The syrups followed: cherry, caramel and Hershey’s chocolate, all delicately adorning the whip like fine, colorful robes.

Fresh-from-the-fryer churros radiated heat into the whip, melting it slightly and causing it to mix into the cinnamon sugar coating. To complete this culinary work of art, a literal cherry was placed on top, straight from an enormous (and beautiful) jar of cherries about the size of a watermelon.

With its impressive menu and gloriously fresh ingredients, Tacos Locos will hopefully become a new Dinkytown institution, one that should survive the devastating barrage of local restaurant closures.

“Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris,” a sickeningly sweet, low-stakes period drama from British director Anthony Fabian, somehow manages to successfully portray and celebrate a working class uprising in mid-century Europe despite its feel-good predictability.

Based on the 1958 Paul Gallico novel “Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris,” the film follows Mrs. Ada Harris (Leslie Manville), a cleaning woman and WWII widow who is finally able to move beyond her trauma upon receiving confirmation of her longtime M.I.A. husband’s death. After a whimsical epiphany brought on by one of her absurdly wealthy clients’ wardrobes, Mrs. Harris decides this new chapter of her life necessitates a custom Christian Dior dress.

Upon her arrival in France, the romantic Parisian streets Mrs. Harris dreamed of are flooded with garbage in the wake of a weeks-long waste collector strike, just one indicator that things aren’t quite what dreams are made of. Though at first glance a sweet telling of a chronic optimist following her fantasy, the film (slightly) deepens with time as its characters question their roles in society and their very personhood.

Set in whimsical 1950s versions of London and Paris, the characters are adorned in lavish mid-century looks from costume designer Jenny Beavan — who won Oscars for her work on “Mad Max: Fury Road” and “Cruella” — as they galavant around, falling in love and contemplating the meaning of life.

Every little problem is overcome with help from those who surround Ada, magnetized by her homely charm, against all odds. Even Claudine Colbert (Isabelle Huppert), the initially elitist head of the label but eventual sweetheart, warms to Ada’s antics.

In fairytale fashion, the villains are revealed to be the wealthy (Dior’s most valued customer is married to the striking waste management company’s owner) and the film adapts an air of easily digestible and inoffensive revolution.

Ada quickly befriends the face of Dior, Natasha (Alba Baptista), a Hepburn-esque beauty who’s grown tired of modeling and would rather discuss heady existential philosophies than continue in a life as arm candy.

The conventionally handsome head of finances, André (Lucas Bravo), sees a new future for Dior, one that leaves upturned noses behind and brings Dior to everyone (in department stores).

Ada’s revolutionary act is … saving up the pennies she earns while meekly cleaning up after clients far wealthier than she to buy an expensive gown from one of Paris’ most exclusive designers, the epitome of higher-class overconsumption. Well, she does deserve something nice after all that work, doesn’t she?

Still, Ada takes no effort to love with her Cockney accent, quick wit and kind eyes as she talks her way into an invitation-only viewing of Dior’s latest collection, helps the fashion house seamstresses to seize the means of production and wins the affection of literally everyone around her.

Manville’s performance as Ada sells it — who could say no to such a charming, eccentric sweetie — making it easy for an audience to play along and thoroughly enjoy her journey. The world is left better in her wake, without any harsh words or bloodshed.

Though far from a scathing critique of capitalism, “Mrs. Harris” makes the topic approachable and easily understood. The heroes of “Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris” are the “invisible” workers of the world. Mrs. Harris, underpaid and unnoticed, is one of many women behind the scenes holding everything together with her bare hands.

Look up. Do you see that cloud? No, that one, over the ridge. How long has it been there?

When a horror movie’s villain is obscured for most of the film, viewers are sometimes left disappointed at the big reveal because the carefully crafted illusion is shattered. “Nope” is not one of those films, nor is it a clichéd story of alien abduction, despite what the trailers may imply. But who could expect disappointment from Jordan Peele, the filmmaker who’s quickly moved from comedy legend (“Key and Peele”) to one of the most revolutionary horror directors (“Get Out” and “Us”) of our generation?

Peele’s “Nope” blends humor at times where a scare would be easiest, eldritch horror when least expected and even seraphic beauty when abject terror is teased. Throughout the film’s three acts, Peele successfully creates convention with the express purpose of breaking it, sets boundaries just to surpass them and triumphs in building an unforgettable spectacle.

Reserved brother OJ (Daniel Kaluuya, the star of Peele’s debut) and firecracker sister Emerald (an utterly electric Keke Palmer) run the Haywood family horse training ranch (“the only black owned horse trainers in Hollywood”) and face financial strife after the peculiar death of their father (a grizzled Keith David). Haunted by this, OJ tries his best to take responsibility, though his reticent social skills leave much to be desired and Emerald’s flighty attitude doesn’t help much.

Soon, mystifying circumstances take over their lives and their ranch: horses escape and power fades out without explanation before UFOs, or more accurately UAPs, begin to dart across the sky, obscured by clouds.

The two siblings become resolute in their quest for the “Oprah shot,” or “undeniable proof of aliens on camera,” in a bid for lifelong economic stability. After all, capturing firsts on camera runs in the Haywood blood. The siblings claim descendance from the unnamed and uncredited Black jockey shown in the world’s first motion picture, just one of Peele’s many sly comments on Hollywood ethics throughout the film.

The siblings’ scheme is aided by conspiracy theory-spouting tech store employee Angel Torres (a stellar breakout performance by Brandon Perea), a local loser who almost certainly went to the Storm Area 51 Facebook event in 2019. Whereas former child star Ricky “Jupe” Park (a charming Steven Yeun) uses his kitschy and exploitative California gold rush-themed park near the Haywood ranch as a distraction, if not hindrance, on the protagonists’ plan.

Perception thematically guides “Nope” and is borne out in gripping facial expressions by the entire cast. Peele nods toward the astonished faces of “Jurassic Park” here, and the cast exudes the eye-held terror of a Junji Ito manga at times. Where eyes served as a warning in “Get Out,” they’re a power in “Nope,” an asset to be used, or left unused, with intention.

Shot on 65mm IMAX film cameras by cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema (“Interstellar,” “Dunkirk”), “Nope” leans into the alienating desert landscape for a visually striking reward. The dusty Californian grime captured by Hoytema, plus the Hollywood have-not motif, bring to mind Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood,” while the permeating feeling of being hunted by the unseen screams “Jaws.” Many more influences abound considering Peele’s lust for cinema culture is paralleled only by the likes of Tarantino and Spielberg.

Sonically, Michael Abels’ (composer for both of Peele’s previous films) score leans into the atmosphere of a great unknown. Initially we’re only afforded glimpses at the subject, allowing viewers to fill in the blanks for themselves and pushing audiences’ imaginations into a murky gloom. Similar to both “Get Out” and “Us” (think hypnotic teaspoon scraping or sharp, dissonant violin notes), “Nope” aids the imagination with otherworldly rippling, piercing sounds, a stray note here, a cacophony of disembodied screams there.

Peele’s full-bodied characterization echoes throughout the film’s entire cast, even down to Barbie Ferreira’s cameos as Angel’s Hot Cheeto-eating coworker. Hopefully, this time around, the cast will be considered in the upcoming awards season…

Subverting expectation has paradoxically become a part of Peele’s signature brand, despite rarely disappointing his audiences. Amid Marvel excess and neverending corporate franchises, audiences may have been spooked by the mere concept of a heady director moving toward the extravagant. Worry not, “Nope” uses a large scale to create Peele’s biggest and brightest cinematic experience yet: a proper summer blockbuster.

In an ever-evolving internet age, rife with microtrends and ultra-niche references, the hunger for painstakingly specific memes has never been greater, perhaps that’s why audiences noticed when “@goldysjockstrap” (GJS) vanished.

University of Minnesota, like every other college campus, is home to many student-run wonders, like the Instagram accounts “@comopassouts” and “@umnvirgins.” Many more rose and fell through the time of GJS, who had garnered roughly 5,700 followers — nearly the same amount of students in 2021’s entire freshman class. Now GJS’ deactivation has left a particular vacuum (a need for saucy campus hot takes, overheard conversations and oddly specific memes) in her wake. A&E sat down with the campus’ vox populi to ask about what happened.

How’ve you been? Any life changes since last time?

“I don’t think I’ve changed too much. I’m trying to double major in finance and human resources. But besides that, still in Carlson [School of Management]. No graduation plans have changed or anything like that. I’m going into my sophomore year now.”

Obviously, you’ve closed down the account. Why’d you stop?

“I just wasn’t enjoying it as much as I had in the past. And I felt like I was hitting like a lot of content blocks. I just didn’t have any ideas. Towards the end, I was caring too much about what other people thought; it wasn’t as fun and now it’s just really not on my mind that much anymore. I have all my relationships — like friendships that I made throughout the year, my relationship with my boyfriend — those were all the connections that I made somehow, in some way, through that account. So I’m really grateful for all that it’s given to me, but for some reason I just feel really relieved at this point that I’m not dealing with it anymore.”

How’s that going? How are you feeling now that you’ve done that?

“Honestly, I kind of knew I wanted to cut it off, so I was expecting it. If not at the end of second semester, then at the end of summer. I did really enjoy it when it was at its peak, meeting all those people, and I’m so grateful; I got a bunch of opportunities through it. And now that it’s done, it’s kind of a weight off my shoulders. Everyone was talking about me, but it was sort of like I had some sort of voice at the university and now it’s kind of nice to just be like, kind of voiceless. No one really has expectations of me.”

You mentioned forming a lot of important relationships through the account. Did you expect that to happen when you started out?

“Not at all! It’s kind of funny. I never would have met those people had it not been for that account, or maybe I would have but not in that way and we wouldn’t have connected so fast. There were also so many parasocial relationships formed that were strictly online but still had an impact on me because I put so much of my life and my experience here at the U on there, so it was really easy for people to relate to that because there’s no initial awkwardness. There’s always something to say. [I wanted to build] a space to connect and relate to one another about what was going on and our mess, like we had no orientation or anything like that. I just never expected it to be this big.”

I just love that idea of the pandemic happening and not being able to form relationships like in a “normal” way and finding a new path. In your last Q&A, you mentioned that your account served as a sort of peek behind the curtain into real campus life for interested applicants/high school students. Do any other accounts come to mind that perform something similar for the U?

“After I made my account, there was an influx of meme accounts, but I don’t know if any of them are still active and there weren’t any that I was super fond of, or that I followed and I was like, ‘Oh, I really enjoy this content.’ So really the only thing at this point — and I hate to say it because I never followed it and I don’t think it’s a great representation of campus — but the one thing that I would think of is the Barstool account. They don’t show much except for the bar scene and sometimes parties and stuff. It’s not a representation of what’s actually going on on campus. So I don’t know, I hope that some freshman will make a good account, but for the time being I do not know of any other good student lens accounts.”

I saw that a week or so ago you made a return to comment on a dorm ranking bracket, then you deactivated again. Any chance that another campus-wide controversy will bring on another string of late night posts in the future?

“That’s a good question. There were so many posts I could have made like this last week. Two weeks ago when we had that explosion on campus. This summer, I’m working for the University as an orientation leader, so I’m here 24/7 with students so I was right next to it. There’s always so much stuff circulating; everyone is getting those [Safe-U] alerts. I think if something big were to happen maybe somewhere down the line — not anytime soon — maybe I would come back and that could be like my comeback. But I definitely feel like if I want to make a post again, like a statement or anything, I want it to be when I’m coming back for good. It has to be something very big or consistent, interesting things going on. There has to be some serious drama going on around campus or something and then I come back.”

What now? Any parting thoughts?

“I’m excited for the new school year. I’m working with all of the new students this year, over the summer, which has been really fun. So it’s kind of interesting to see the same kind of dynamics form. There were a lot of characters on my account, or that I knew personally that I met through the account, and I kind of see glimpses of that throughout the freshman class. So I’m really excited for them. I’ve had some pretty funny kids in my group. So maybe there’s hope for the future of U of M meme pages.”

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Colin Bracewell, a 21-year-old local indie pop musician, performed for a sold-out audience at 7th Street Entry Saturday and teased a new single slated for release later this week. The artist juggles being a full-time student at the University of Minnesota and writing, recording and producing his own music on the side.

His studies reflect this split, as Bracewell is double-majoring in marketing at the Carlson School of Management, though he “doesn’t like to lead with that,” and vocal performance in the University’s School of Music. Bracewell released his debut EP “Valley” last summer, and his most recent single, “Slopes,” came out in April.

Though born in Windsor, Ontario and raised mostly in Fresno, California, Bracewell spent his teen years in Stillwater, Minnesota, where he began to nurture his musical inclinations as a theater kid, violinist, saxophonist and even a backup instrumentalist in a classic rock cover band.

Like many homemade, Upper-Midwestern artists of Bracewell’s generation, he draws inspiration from the likes of Justin Vernon and John Mayer, though his music holds a raw and unabashed post-Frank Ocean R&B quality.

His instrumentation sets Bracewell apart from other singer-songwriters of the same genre, often adding gentle synths, a killer trumpet solo or a moody saxophone riff to bring a jazzier feel that offsets lyrics of heartbreak (or amplifies them, depending on the listener).

At his third performance at 7th Street Entry and second sold out show as a headliner in the venue, Bracewell and most of the band sported matching mullets and coordinated utility jumpsuits.

Their day was jam packed, starting with an outdoor show at Franconia Sculpture Park outside of the city and ending in a sold out venue for a hometown show post-tour, but according to Bracewell, any of the day’s chaos would at least be offset by their matching outfits.

The past few months have been similarly topsy-turvy. “I haven’t even watched a new ‘Stranger Things’ recently, just because I’ve been so busy,” Bracewell said. In typical Minnesota boy fashion, Bracewell is a “big fish guy” and has plans to spend his upcoming break up north in the Boundary Waters.

Bracewell’s career trajectory can be measured by his shows at the Entry. He first performed there as an opener for fellow Ontario-upstart Billy Raffoul on March 10, 2020, just days before the University lengthened spring break and eventually entered full lockdown. Bracewell worked to find a silver lining amid the global collapse by making himself available and preparing for the inevitable post-pandemic return to live shows.

“A bunch of shows got canceled and everything, so when they started putting on shows again, I was like, ‘Heyyy…I’d love to,’ and so I got my first headlining show here last summer,” Bracewell said.

Smaller venues were the norm for Bracewell pre-pandemic, but he doesn’t mind the intimacy of being vulnerable in front of like-minded folks. “I’d rather play to 15 people that know my music than like 75 people that are just there,” he added.

Tonight, though, Bracewell would greet a crowd of just under 300 in the Entry’s sold out hall and announce the upcoming release of a new single, “Making Me Crazy,” that details the painful end of a relationship.

“I literally had to send it to my now ex-girlfriend saying, ‘Yo, is it okay that I say this?’” Bracewell said of the song, adding that he just wanted to make sure he wasn’t giving too much away.

“I’m just not gonna write in a diary. You know, that’s not really my thing,” Bracewell said of his confessional songwriting.

If Bracewell was nervous for the night’s performance, he didn’t show it in the slightest. In the hours leading up to the big show, he bounded in and out of the venue with a smile, greeting friends and family and posing for photos before settling down into a timeworn leather couch in the venue’s dimly lit basement, the surrounding walls covered with event posters and signatures from other artists who have passed through.

Radiating joy, the show kicked off with performances from openers Aiden Intro and Ivers, two other local indie acts with seemingly endless energy and stellar sound. Along with Bracewell, the two openers announced they would be donating the night’s profits to the National Network of Abortion Funds and Fuck Bans Immediate Impact Fund in an Instagram post earlier in the week.

Bracewell and the band made a capital “E” entrance next, moseying onto the stage oozing cool in mismatched sunglasses — Bracewell’s were heart-shaped — as their mullets glistened under intense spotlights.

They began with a fiery performance of “Slopes,” a punchy melody that the crowd warmed up to immediately, clapping and swaying along. Many in attendance sang along with shocking precision, clearly devoted to the young act from their hometown. Even those unfamiliar with Bracewell couldn’t help moving with each new enrapturing tune.

Musician Brooke Elizabeth sang supporting vocals throughout, offering lilting, airy harmonies to complement Bracewell’s deeply soulful voice. The two even performed “Nashville,” an unreleased song they co-wrote in a dorm.

As the night progressed, they moved through his setlist with ease, looking entirely at home on the venue’s cozy stage. Funky covers (“Just the Two of Us” and “More than a Woman”) intermingled with Bracewell’s own work, keeping a celebratory air throughout the performance.

Bracewell ended the night with the forthcoming “Making Me Crazy,” and many in the audience impassionedly sang along, somehow already knowing the words, to the band’s delight. He wrote the song two weeks before the show and performed it there for the first time.

“How the fuck do you already know that?” he said between verses, beaming.

On a June day weighed down with heat so thick no alt kid could truly thrive, LA-based indie pop punk band The Wrecks came to downtown St. Paul on their Better than Ever tour for a night of electricity, both figuratively and literally.

Still, those kids persisted in their clunkiest shoes, most threadbare band tees and dyed hair faded to every shade of pastel the human eye is capable of perceiving. They huddled onto the concrete floors of Amsterdam Bar and Hall, a cozy venue parallel to the Palace Theatre, indifferent about how much their footwear stuck to the ground approaching the stage.

The night kicked off with two openers, arty synth pop-rock artist Mothé and bubble grunge bedroom pop singer girlhouse, both infecting the audience with serene, flowing vibes as they ramped up the excitement for the night’s headliners.

Nick Anderson, the 27-year-old frontman, immediately brought the energy as The Wrecks bounced out in coordinating but purposefully mismatching jumpsuits, boiling over with anxious joy as they kicked off with “Out of Style” and its sharp riffs. The crowd welcomed the feverish energy, jumping and screaming along breathlessly as the temperature rose even in the air-conditioned joint.

Despite the usually warm venue, Anderson ricocheted across the stage to the beat, disheveled platinum hair flopping around his browline specs with every step and new enunciated lyric.

“You look pretty with my heart in the palm of your hand,” he sang before belting into the chorus, neck veins straining with practiced effort. Mothé returned to the stage to jam alongside The Wrecks, sporting a floral print Big Bud Press jumpsuit.

Audience members easily mirrored the band’s fervor, shaking the room with each jump, waving hands marked with X’s signifying their youth along to the melody. Those at the front hugged the stage, no barrier preventing them from giving gifts to the performers. One audience member gave up a vaguely phallic-looking light stick that Anderson insisted he would “use later,” brows raised with implication.

Continuing with their excellent crowd work, “Freaking Out” had fans lowering themselves to the ground then bounding back up as the song rose and fell. The show continued with a mix of older works from the mid-2010s and “Sonder,” their latest and second full-length studio album.

Anderson was soon left alone on the moodily-lit stage for a brief acoustic set, giving those in attendance a bit of a breather as he sang earnest, impassioned renditions of “Ugly Side” and “Normal” along with the soul-baring voices of the crowd, many pulling out their phone flashlights to light the room with an eerie glow. The rest of the band returned to the stage for the final bits, filling the venue with a bonfire singalong atmosphere.

Feeling that it was time to get the energy back up, the band did just that with “Fvck Somebody.” Anderson had the crowd hanging on every word he belted with the cheekiest grin. Gyrating with each step, he simultaneously hyped the crowd and showed off an impressive amount of breath control.

With each moment of setup and every change in instrument, the crowd erupted into chants for Trevor, an apparent roadie who fans knew by name. The band leaned into the Trevor love, giving the chant a bassline as one girl screamed, “I want you to have my babies, Trevor!”

The kinetic atmosphere continued as they performed “Where Are You Now?” a synthy rock ballad from their latest album, and the jaunty old favorite “James Dean.”

Deafening shouts for an encore erupted throughout the Amsterdam as Trevor stood alone on the darkened stage, fiddling with a guitar. As The Wrecks returned, feigning distaste at the crowd’s interest in someone who wasn’t them, Anderson jokingly asked, “Trevor, how much would we have to raise your salary to get you to sing this next song?”

The answer turned out to be not at all as the tech approached the mic with trepidation, smiling still. He and Anderson stood embracing, illuminated with joy, as they sang “Infinitely Ordinary” together into a shared microphone.

Anderson continued in the genuinely sweet, soppy moment as he expressed the band’s gratitude for their openers, photographer, sound guy, merch girl and even bassist Aaron Kelley’s mom, who apparently made the trip from Wisconsin to catch the show.

The night ended with the invigorating “Favorite Liar,” each band member in various states of undress after a sweaty performance, each still giving it their all even as the crowd took care of most of the lyrics.

As the venue lights turned back on, the night’s buzz lingered in the now empty air. Attendees filtered out into an equally electric summer night as heat lightning sparked against the navy evening sky.

In the early hours of the day of the first Spring Jam since the pandemic halted the gathering of large crowds at University-sanctioned events, I awoke to a booming clap of thunder. The forecast said rain, all day, and bearable — but uncomfortable — temperatures. However, like many, I had plans in Dinkytown.

This Spring Jam would be different, as everything has been in a “post-pandemic” world where the word “normal” has lost its meaning, though by different I also refer to the literal planning of the event. UMN’s Student Union and Activities wanted this festival to be more than just an excuse to day-drink at the end of the semester, but were they successful?

Wandering down University Avenue that morning, the answer seemed to be “no.” There were glittering bodies of students moving as one across each muddy lawn on frat row, dancing clumsily (but passionately) to haphazard remixes of “Fire Burning” by Sean Kingston, clutching open containers of the trendiest seltzers in the same hand as their comically large cylindrical disposable vapes, or actual gallon milk jugs of multicolored mystery liquid (fun juice, perhaps).

One frat, whose crowd spilled out onto the street, had a tattered brown couch aloft in the tree out front, several partiers sitting and gently dancing upon it, so as not to tip their precarious seating. One particularly jazzed attendee held a cardboard sign pleading, “You honk, we drink” to those driving down University, and many obliged, prompting cheers from the shirtless, Gopherall-wearing bros.

Much of Dinky and the road to Parking Lot 37 (the glamorous locale of Spring Jam, just behind Mariucci Arena) was populated with similar crowds, co-eds sporting cheap plastic rain ponchos over their carefully selected party fits, some intentionally planning their looks around raingear and some wearing no coats at all, despite the windchill and damp air.

Students stumbled out into crosswalks without prompting from stoplights, taking swigs from full bottles of wine or hauling 12-packs of Busch Light. Many of them wouldn’t make it to 3 p.m., the festival’s start time. Soon, though, droves of attendees from all manner of student housing would pour out into the drizzling day and make their way to that parking lot.

The carnal, carnival atmosphere persisted inside the gates as a couple on stilts wandered around, the man twirling his thickly gelled handlebar mustache. Another performer, a unicyclist sporting a rainbow-striped windbreaker jumpsuit riding a stuffed unicorn (yeah, really) circled around the entrance.

Though the event forbade the admission of outside liquids, it didn’t take long for attendees to find a workaround. As I waited in line for a nearly $8 cup of ice cream, mere feet away from oblivious security and the cops watching the front gate, giggling Jam-goers tossed backpacks full of clanging glass bottles over the event’s fences to friends inside before entering. The weather persisted, sending a chill across the lot, puddles quaking with bass from the Battle of the Bands performances.

The event’s crowds clustered around the various food trucks and carnival rides, each amassing lines of people that stretched across the lot in organized chaos. Inflatable tube men in various vibrant colors did their dance in the intense winds of the day as attendees tried their hand at the yard games set out for their enjoyment. One nearby tent held caricature artists, and another a taste test for Coca-Cola’s Starlight, which supposedly tastes how space feels.

“I think it’s great in the sense that we’ve made it more accessible by making it free for entry. I think that’s really important because that was definitely the barrier for people before and we’re getting local artists and stuff,” Calianne Jones, a fourth-year who was around for the 2018 Spring Jam but did not attend, said. “So I like that about it. I think it’s cool. I’m having a good time.”

Not everyone was as enthused. One passerby complained, “Some random university in Illinois got Yung Gravy, who even are these people?”

As LA-based synthpop artist Sophie Cates began her set, a modest crowd gathered at the mainstage. The mist soon turned to rain as 5:30 p.m. rolled around, and attendees huddled under umbrellas, clutching their hoods over their heads against the sharp winds.

Despite the dreary day, many used Spring Jam as an excuse to mingle and make friends. Sitting in the little beer garden, a few nice folks wandered up to me and asked if they could join me. They felt the event was lacking, too.

“It’s cold, it’s wet, it’s gross and there’s nothing here I don’t have to pay for,” Annika Smerud said, huddling with her friend against the chilling wind, adding that the event was disappointing given the amount of money students pay to attend the University. “This is the best they could do?”

Though admission to the event was free for students, most of the attractions inside (aside from the music) cost money to participate in.

Erin Sternke, who came with Smerud, agreed. “I feel like it’s fun, but at the same time, it’s weird, isn’t it?”

Sternke was a first-year when Mason Ramsey and Lil Yachty performed at the 2018 Spring Jam. She attended but doesn’t remember much about it. Over a $6 shared beer, the two discussed whether or not the big slide was worth waiting in line for 45 minutes. They decided to head out.

The rain worsened, cutting through my “water-resistant” coat. My unfinished ice cream melted into my hand, dripping down and mixing with bulbous raindrops. It was hardly 7 p.m., and even the event itself seemed tired.

On the way back to my car, I heard a commotion behind a large, stark blue Domino’s truck, where two drunk girls were relieving themselves. Their friends caught up, one on the verge of throwing up as they stumbled home, another drunkenly chanting that they should all throw up. Was today really worth the wait?

Aah, May. Will spring finally show itself? Who knows. It’s uncertain, but these events are a sure thing (probably). As the wait for a crumb of warm weather continues, hopefully these activities will encourage sunshine.

Many venues in the Twin Cities require proof of full vaccination or a negative test within three days of show dates. Events allow all ages unless otherwise noted.

1. May Markets at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum
What’s better than a bit of shopping after a jaunt through some flower fields? Visit the arboretum this month to gaze at budding blooms, then stop by the market to peruse 60+ vendors’ wares. Tickets free for members, $15 for general public over the age of 16 at the entry gate. Nearly every weekend in May: April 30 & May 1, May 14-15, May 21-22, May 28-29

2. MSP International Film Festival at the Main
MSP Film Society’s movie-going extravaganza will be held in-person this year at the newly renovated St. Anthony Main Theatre (name change incoming) and will show more than 200 films from all over the world. Secure a pass for near-unlimited access at the fest or just grab tickets to the ones you’re most interested in. Passes start at $75 for students and $500 for general admission. Individual tickets start at $8 for students and $15 for general admission. May 5-19

3. Scream it Off Screen at the Parkway Theater
The weirdo gong-show short film competition returns this month. Visit the Parkway to vote for your favorite films using humanity’s greatest instrument: an ear-shattering scream. Submissions are currently open! More information here. Tickets start at $10. May 6

4. Friends School Plant Sale at the Minnesota State Fairgrounds
Visit the fairgrounds this Mother’s Day weekend to frolic among the massive selection of plants (and maybe pick up a gift or two). What’s more spring-y than that?
Free to attend. More information here. May 6-8

5. Ebb and Flow at St. Paul Student Center’s Larson Gallery
Multimedia artists Cheryl LeClair-Sommer and Michelle Wegler attempt to capture Minnesota’s ever-changing watery landscapes in this exhibit, coupled with poetry and prose written while painting en plein air, or outside. There will be a reception held May 12. Free. May 6 – June 17.

6. NE Neighborhood’s Makers Market & Bar Hop
Sip and shop at this charming little pop-up featuring more than 60 local artisans and vendors. Barhop locations include Indeed Brewing Co., Able Seedhouse + Brewery, 612Brew and Tattersall Distilling. Free to attend. May 7

7. Son Lux at Fine Line
If you’re in the mood for some ethereal instrumentals and experimental indie electronica, Son Lux has the right stuff. The trio, made up of Rafiq Bhatia, Ian Chang, and Ryan Lott, will be touring “Tomorrows,” their latest album (released in several parts), supported by composer slash vocalist Emily Wells. Tickets start at $22. 18-plus. May 7

8. mxmtoon at the Varsity Theater
Of early pandemic TikTok virality, mxmtoon (known to fans as just Maia) rose to fame with songs she wrote and produced in her parent’s guest bedroom, like “prom dress” and “mona lisa.” Chloe Moriondo, Detroit-born bedroom pop singer-songwriter, will be joining her on “rising (the tour).” Tickets start at $27. May 8

9. Old St. Anthony Mother’s Day Market at the Machine Shop
Take mom (or yourself!) out for a day of cocktails, trinket shopping and crafty goods. As the event page says, “It’s never too early for Mother’s Day shopping.” Free admission but registration is required. May 8

10. Salsa Sundays at Midtown Global Market
Join Salsa instructor René Thompson every other Sunday this month and next for free lessons, and wander the market for good eats. Free. May 8, May 22

11. Jesse McCartney at the Fillmore
Relive your adolescent dreams at the early 2000s pop icon’s show this month. The beautiful soul will be performing some hits from the early aughts along with recent works on his “‘New Stage’ Tour 2022.” This show was originally scheduled for November of 2021. Tickets start at $30. May 9

12. Black Fashion Week MN
Join Minnesota’s Black designers for a visual feast for a week of six shows (one each day). Festivities commence with Design of the Times at Paisley Park’s Soundstage, including live music and a Q&A with guest designer Debbie McGuan. Other shows include Fashion on the Rooftop at MAAHMG and Black Girl Magic at the W Minneapolis, among others. Ticket prices vary. More information here. May 11-20

13. Steve Martin and Martin Short: You Won’t Believe What They Look Like Today! At the Orpheum Theatre
The two comedy legends will be visiting the Orpheum this month for a night of laughter and absurdity accompanied by “very special guests” Jeff Babko and the Steep Canyon Rangers. Tickets start at $99. May 13

14. St. Paul Art Crawl at Union Depot
Peruse the work of 30 local painters, jewelry artisans and multimedia artists at Union Depot in the Head House. Free to attend. May 13-15

15. Oh Wonder at First Avenue
The English alt-pop duo (Josephine Vander Gucht and Anthony West), self-named the U.K.’s best kept secret, will be touring their latest set of albums: “22 Make” and “22 Break.” Tickets start at $35. May 18

16. Moulin Rouge! The Musical at the Orpheum
Glamor and glitter will abound in this updated rendition of the 2001 movie-musical directed by Baz Luhrmann. This performance was directed by Tony Award-nominee Alex Timbers, Justin Levine handled orchestration and Emmy Award-nominee Sonya Tayeh choreographed. Tickets start at $59. May 18 – June 5

17. Art-A-Whirl 2022
Wander through the studios and galleries of nearly 800 local artists at this year’s arts spectacular. Stops include private studios, galleries, local breweries and businesses. Free and open to the public. More information here. May 20-22

18. Minnesota Qeej Festival at St. Paul Landmark Center
Celebrate Hmong culture at the state’s first Qeej (bamboo pipe instrument) festival. There will be performances by Qeej masters, Qeej-making workshops, Hmong folk art exhibits and Southeast Asian food vendors galore. Free to attend. May 22

19. Bow Wow Film Festival: Short Films for the Love of Dog! at the Parkway
Visit the Parkway for an afternoon of cute and funny dog shorts, and feel good about it! All proceeds go to Wags & Whiskers Animal Rescue of Minnesota. Tickets start at $13 for adults in advance. Family tickets $30. May 22

20. HOMESHAKE at the Cedar Cultural Center
Montreal-based synth pop artist HOMESHAKE (Peter Sagar) will be performing works from “Under the Weather,” his fifth studio album, with support from climate scientist turned musician Salami Rose Joe Louis ( Lindsay Olsen). Tickets start at $22. May 24

Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh) is a failure. At least, in her universe she is. Every mediocre day feels the same, she has rocky relationships with her family, her laundromat is facing closure during a tough audit and none of her hobbies ever really pan out.

As these failures come crashing down on her, she’s faced with a choice from an unlikely source: continue living this way, unsatisfied and stagnant, or join the fight against an otherworldly force of chaos that’s slowly devouring other realities into a literal “everything” bagel black hole.

The title gets it right. This is a film about the dynamics of love and trauma within a Chinese American Family, intense philosophical multiversal theory and hot dog fingers, all while genre-jumping at head-spinning speeds. Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert’s “Everything Everywhere All At Once” is simultaneously an action-packed, heartstring-tugging sci-fi comedy.

The Daniels, as the writing-directing duo refer to themselves, are also responsible for “Swiss Army Man,” an equally weird and well-done film starring Daniel Radcliffe and Paul Dano. “Everything” oozes imagination from every dimension.

Evelyn’s journey begins on the way to a meeting with Deirdre Beaubeirdra (Jamie Lee Curtis, and yes that’s really her name), a crotchety, power-drunk IRS auditor who “sees a story” in every pile of receipts. On the elevator ride up, goofy and well-meaning husband Waymond Wang’s (Ke Huy Quan) body is snatched by himself from another universe, a place where humans have learned to jump between realities by way of performing unique acts that connect their multiple selves.

He tells her that the Alpha-verse, his home, and all other universes are in danger of ruin at the hands of Jobu Tupaki, the aforementioned all-consuming bagel creator and all around lover of anarchy. Evelyn may be their only chance to stop it, if she can master reality-jumping.

But Evelyn has a lot on her mind. She’s just had another fight in a line of many with her daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu), her aging father (James Hong, hilariously stern) never seems to approve of her best efforts and Evelyn has a New Years party to prep for, all while her husband files for divorce and habitually puts comically large googly eyes on their household objects (an annoyance to Evelyn).

In Quan’s first major role since his action-packed childhood (starring as Data in “The Goonies” and sidekick Short Round in “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom”), his original Waymond serves — at the risk of being cliche — as the lovable goofball who believes fighting isn’t the answer. His joyful performance throughout “Everything” perfectly contrasts Evelyn’s initial negativity and Jobu Tapaki’s “nothing matters” attitude.

As perfectly cast Deirdre drones on and on about her prowess as an auditor (pointing to her buttplug-shaped IRS awards for proof), Evelyn’s mind wanders to the note left for her by Alpha-verse Waymond, and after switching her shoes to the wrong feet, she finds herself split in two. One Evelyn remains at Deirdre’s dull beige desk, tuning out her monotonous scolding, while the other stands confused in a distant janitor’s closet.

Yeoh’s ability to convey exactly what she’s feeling just with a look is what makes her Evelyn so compelling. She shines in every version of herself — as a loving mother, stern caretaker and stubborn individual — ultimately embodying the most flawed and utterly human superhero I’ve ever seen in a multiverse movie. In “Everything,” her performance brings tears, laughter and awe, often in the same breath, effortlessly.

“Every rejection, every disappointment, has led you here to this moment,” Alpha Waymond says in the alternate IRS broom closet, before cultist Deirdre bashes this Evelyn’s head in with a pipe, sending her back to her home universe. Soon, we get a glimpse into the technicolor terror that is Jobu Tupaki, a playfully psychotic Hsu, and realize that things are a bit more complex than Alpha Waymond let on.

Hsu herself effortlessly portrays an intensely nihilistic antagonist in a glittering, radiant package, bolstered by Shirley Kurata’s costume design — which brings the term “camp” to new heights. Though her reputation as a villain precedes her actual entrance, Hsu brings a depth to Tupaki’s cavalier attitude as she traverses the universe in avoiding the realities of intergenerational trauma.

The film condenses hours of worldbuilding into one hushed explanation between Evelyn and Alpha Waymond as they hide from Jobu Tupaki’s agents — just one example of the film’s excellent writing — after he beats a barrage of them off with a fanny pack in an intensely choreographed (and side-splitting) fight scene, the first of many in that same vein.

Each is more thrilling than the last, with stunning cuts between universes illuminated by performances from a stellar cast who each embody dozens of same-but-different characters perfectly. The humor is astute and wildly silly, the tender moments heartfelt and lovingly acted, solidifying “Everything Everywhere All At Once” as a master work.

Because Evelyn is so wildly unremarkable at everything she does, she’s perfectly suited to become anything, go anywhere, just like Jobu Tupaki. As she travels between her endless selves, she finds that Alpha-Waymond’s words were true. Her weaknesses are actually strengths, tools to be used in bringing her family back together and ultimately saving the universe.

Meg Petersen strives to make the mundane beautiful. Long car rides, dishwashing and sunbathing aren’t just in-betweens in her work; they’re subjects worthy of close attention. Along the white walls of the Coffman Art Gallery, Petersen’s works depict scenes from everyday life with excruciating detail, often with a gentle, loving hand.

“Life is Peachy” is Petersen’s first solo exhibition. “It’s a little bit scary just because, like, that’s my work and my name up on the wall,” Petersen said before the reception. “Everyone’s gonna know!” The exhibit is open now and will remain at Coffman Union until May 8.

“It’s a more realistic style with a more expressive color story,” Petersen said. “I do a lot of portraits. I really love capturing people in moments where they think maybe people aren’t looking at them or paying attention, because I think those areas are the most interesting.”

The exhibit, aptly titled “Life is Peachy” depicts exactly that: a love letter to the everyday moments that we’re often too busy to pay attention to. “The Knife,” a drawing depicting the complexities within a sink full of dishes, features swirling bubbles and the hand of her mother carefully scrubbing a kitchen knife.

“There’s a lot of unnoticed joy, and not just joy but also sadness and really intense emotion in those overlooked spaces,” Petersen said. “Things that seem insignificant are sometimes the most telling.”

Petersen, a high school junior based just outside of White Bear Lake, has been scribbling away since she could hold a crayon (her words), but began selling her work at 14.

According to Petersen and her mother, Marlene, she’d still be in choir if not for the push of her middle school art teacher, Molly Vadnais, who was present at the reception. Now, Petersen uses charcoal, colored pencils, acrylic and gouache paints to create.

“I’d say it’s surreal, but she’s a very talented artist and more importantly, she’s a really hard worker and she’s not afraid of the word ‘no,’” Marlene said. “It’s really neat to watch the progress of her work because I’ve seen all of these pieces on my living room floor, my dining room table.”

Marlene is the subject of one of her most recent works, “Sun hat,” which depicts her with a crystalline punch bowl on her head as sunlight casts liquid shadows on her face.

As friends and family gathered to admire Petersen’s hard work, she and her parents beamed with joy. “How did this all happen?” one distant relative asked. “Meg is a big deal,” Brent Petersen, her father, said. “She’s fearless. She sees open calls for art and just applies!”

As Petersen continues to balance working as an artist and finishing up high school, she’s setting her sights on an uncertain but hopeful future.

“I want to be able to paint but also apply my artistic skills in a more broad sense,” Petersen continued. “As far as college and stuff like that, I know that I definitely want to do something creative and relating to art because I can’t not have art in my life. I think I would go crazy.”