It was a week Crescenta Valley football coach Hudson Gossard will never forget.
It began with him having to switch from defensive coordinator to offensive coordinator after coaching changes. Then his wife had to undergo surgery. Then he had to take care of final preparations for Crescenta Valley to open its new stadium on Sept. 5.
“It was an unbelievable atmosphere,” Gossard said. “High school kids dream of playing on their own high school campus. It was something awesome, something special.”
Gossard was almost in tears after what happened before the game against South Pasadena. He said before every game he receives a kiss from his wife, Codi. She was driven from the hospital and surprised him with a kiss.
“She’s a saint,” he said.
Gossard went to the press box to call the plays just like his father, Dennis, who passed in June after some 50 years being involved with Crescenta Valley football.
Crescenta Valley ended up winning the game 42-21. The emotions and memories won’t be forgotten.
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A young woman emerged from the dark into a green and bushy clearing. Under the faux moonlight, she wandered the stage, speaking to herself. “Where’s my camera? I can’t believe I lost it. All my memories were there,” she said with a pang of panic in her voice.
Moments later, a young man surfaced from the same spot. His eyes scanned the area as well, with a pained look on his face. “Have you seen my drums?” When he plays his drums his heart races, he explained; his people feel joy, and the living, the dead and even the stars dance. “It’s like all our memories are there too,” he said.
With this poignant intro, Bad Bunny kicked off the “locals only” opening night of his 30-show residency in San Juan — which, for the first three weekends, will only be accessible to those who can show proof of their residence in Puerto Rico.
Taking place each weekend at the José Miguel Agrelot Coliseum, affectionately referred to as El Choli by locals, the concert series revolves around his latest album, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” and was advertised with name “No me quiero ir de aquí,” which translates to “I don’t want to leave here.” It’s a refrain that’s been associated with the artist since he used it as a lyric in his 2022 ode to his homeland, “El Apagón,” and he considers it still resonant today.
A celebration of Puerto Rican identity, a fighting spirit shaped indelibly by its music and history, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” also urges its listeners that time is not to be taken for granted, and the past, present and future are not just distinct phases but one whole, inextricably tied together.
(Lorenzo Lagares/For Los Angeles Times)
Fans that flocked to the opening weekend concerts were treated to Benito at the apex of his talents, not to mention his stamina. For three hours and over 35 songs, he danced, strutted and sang to the approving roar of over 15,000 in attendance. The show opened with rumbles of bomba y plena, and an unreleased track that got the crowd buzzing — followed by popular recent bangers like “Ketu Tecré,” “El Clúb” and “Pitorro de Coco.” He then regaled the crowd with a catwalk performance of “Kloufrens” and “Weltita,” which featured an appearance by Chuwi, the beloved tropical jazz quartet from Isabela.
The two stages were grandiose, both in size and production quality. The main stage was a reproduction of a hill, made to approximate the lush foliage found in Puerto Rico’s rainforest and central hillside towns. On one side, you could spy the two iconic Monobloc chairs from the album’s cover, and on the other, a flamboyán tree blossoming with red flowers. On the opposite end of the coliseum’s arena was a pristine pink vacation home, built to mirror the one from the short film that debuted along with the album.
That film introduced the characters of Old Man, played by acclaimed Puerto Rican filmmaker Jacobo Morales, and Concho, the sweet-natured Puerto Rican crested toad voiced by Kenneth Canales, which was brought to life by the stop-motion work of Quique Rivera. The two unlikely housemates returned in two new vignettes shown at the concert, in which they live in a cabin in the middle of snowy woods. Concho misses the Caribbean warmth, and feels very far away from home. A kind Morales reminds him: “We’re Puerto Rican no matter where we are, and even from afar we defend what’s ours.”
Remember, he says while looking straight at the camera, Puerto Rico is “the real calentón.” This cued a barrage of images that flashed across the screen, showing photos of historic protests and civil disobedience carried out over the decades by revolutionary Puerto Ricans.
(Lorenzo Lagares/For Los Angeles Times)
Benito reappeared under the flamboyán tree, where he was joined by guitarist Antonio Caraballo. Here, we got some of his lovelorn “Sad Bunny” persona as they reinterpreted acoustic versions of older hits like “Si Estuviésemos Juntos,” “Ni Bien Ni Mal” and “Amorfoda” before ending with “Turista.” All the while, Benito waxed philosophically to the audience, commiserating about matters of the heart.
From here, the action swiftly moved from the countryside to the pink house which suddenly filled with dancers in club wear — and Benito’s longtime tour DJ Orma. Those craving a rowdy perreo party got their wish, as his salsa-dembow hybrid track “Nuevayol” launched a 16-song stretch of frenzied, sweaty reggaeton and trap bops. Bouncing feverishly from “Titi Me Preguntó” and “La Jumpa” to “Yo Perreo Sola” and “Efecto,” Benito transformed the coliseum into a nightclub.
James and Benito have a friendship going back several years, and it’s hard to blame the superstar for wanting to hang with his pal — even if said pal is an American — during a concert by an artist who is not really vibing with the United States right now. But then again, if the home we see on stage is supposed to represent an Airbnb owned by non-Puerto Ricans — which is what was narratively implied — Benito might as well flex and bring in some elite gringos. Chants of “MVP! MVP!” rang out at one point, provoking the four-time NBA champion to throw up a hand heart gesture to the crowd. It’s all love.
That being said: “LeBron James sat on an air conditioner and danced while Bad Bunny sang ‘Safaera’” is a ridiculous Mad Libs sentence that actually happened.
As he paced from side to side on the house’s rooftop, Benito would again touch on the topic of time. “You get so caught up in the euphoria of the moment that you forget to appreciate the present,” he said. He asked the crowd to put their phones away and focus on the next song, and on whoever is accompanying them, or even someone across the aisle who has caught their eye. “This is the moment to act,” he added, and ask them for a dance, just before the thrust of “Eoo,” made famous from his sensual Calvin Klein underwear ad, got the whole building quaking.
Puerto Rican plena ensemble Los Pleneros de la Cresta appeared to interpret “Café Con Ron,” as well as one of their own songs, “Ábreme Paso,” which gave way to a second video vignette. It showed Morales’ Old Man leaving the cabin and trudging through a snowstorm, until he ran into Benito’s musical director Julito Gastón — the young man from the opening skit — sitting behind his drum. As they lock eyes, Morales leaves him with a word of advice that’s not just about the music, but the core of his being: “Never stop playing your drums.”
(Lorenzo Lagares/For Los Angeles Times)
Bad Bunny resurfaced, looking a bit more subdued. He spoke softly, but sternly, about Puerto Rico and its struggle against gentrification and government neglect. “We have to protect this land,” he said. “We have to protect what’s ours if we want our children to make a life here.” He followed it up by crooning “Lo Que Le Pasó A Hawaii,” the solemn décima all about how the archipelago is being threatened existentially.
An animated crash course in salsa history, narrated by Néstor Galán, set the scene for Benito’s touring live band, Los Sobrinos to assemble. Dressed in a vintage ‘70s garb of a Fania bandleader, Benito led the group into the last and most rousing part of the concert: a salsa reimagining of “Callaíta,” which gave way to to “Baile Inolvidable” and “Dtmf.” The crowd leapt to their feet, twirling and stepping to the rhythms.
Before he launched into the opening freestyle of “La Mudanza” he paused to gather himself; he took off his sunglasses to reveal his eyes had welled up with tears and gratefulness. As the image of a giant Puerto Rican flag graced the ceiling, he motioned for everyone to sing and scream the final lyrics in unison: “Nobody’s taking me from here, I’m not moving anywhere, tell ‘em this is my home, where my grandfather was born, I’m from P f—in’ R!”
In the lead-up to last year’s gubernatorial elections, Bad Bunny spent hundreds of thousands of his own money buying ad space on billboards across Puerto Rico urging its citizens to not vote for the ruling party, accusing them of being the main culprits of the island’s woes. The ads consisted of a simple, white text on a black background. In the end, the same party that has led since 2017 won reelection; and since then, the current governor, Republican Party member Jenniffer González-Colón, has only continued to be mired in controversy.
When entering the concert area, the large screens over the main stage showed one message with white letters on a black background: “Yo Te Lo Dije,” or “I Told You So.” When the show was over and everyone began to trickle out, a new message appeared, recognizable to all: “No Me Quiero Ir De Aquí.”
With his residency, Bad Bunny issues a rallying cry for Puerto Ricans: Act now. Change the future, so that you don’t regret the past. And most importantly, never stop playing your drums.
Strumming a black acoustic guitar to match his black tuxedo pants and jacket, Hugh Jackman strolled onto the stage of the Hollywood Bowl and let the audience know precisely what it was in for.
“Little bit of Neil Diamond,” he said as the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra revved up the go-go self-improvement jive of “Crunchy Granola Suite.”
A dedicated student of showbiz history, the Australian singer and actor was starting his concert Saturday night just as Diamond did half a century ago at the Greek Theatre gig famously captured on his classic “Hot August Night” LP.
Yet Diamond was just one of the flamboyant showmen Jackman aspired to emulate as he headlined the opening night of the Bowl’s 2025 season. Later in the concert, the 56-year-old sang a medley of tunes by Peter Allen, the Australian songwriter and Manhattan bon vivant whom Jackman portrayed on Broadway in 2003 in “The Boy From Oz.” And then there was P.T. Barnum, whose career as a maker of spectacle inspired the 2017 blockbuster “The Greatest Showman,” which starred Jackman as Barnum and spawned a surprise-hit soundtrack that went quadruple-platinum.
“There’s 17,000 of you, and if any of you did not see ‘The Greatest Showman,’ you might be thinking right now: This guy is super-confident,” Jackman told the crowd, panting ever so slightly after he sang the movie’s title song, which has more than 625 million streams on Spotify.
The success of “Showman” notwithstanding, Jackman’s brand of stage-and-screen razzle-dazzle feels fairly rare in pop music these days among male performers. (The theater-kid moment that helped make “Wicked” a phenomenon was almost exclusively engineered — and has almost exclusively benefited — women such as Ariana Grande, Cynthia Erivo, Chappell Roan and Laufey.) What makes Jackman’s jazz-handing even more remarkable is that to many he’s best known as the extravagantly mutton-chopped Wolverine character from the Marvel movies.
Before Jackman’s performance on Saturday, the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, conducted by Thomas Wilkins, played a brief set of orchestral music that included selections from John Ottman’s score for “X2: X-Men United.”
The ascent of Benson Boone, with his mustache and his backflips, suggests that Jackman may yet find inheritors to carry on the tradition he himself was bequeathed by Diamond and the rest. But of course that assumes that Jackman is looking to pass the baton, which was not at all the impression you got from his spirited and athletic 90-minute show at the Bowl.
In addition to stuff from “The Greatest Showman” and a swinging tribute to Frank Sinatra, he did a second Diamond tune — “Sweet Caroline,” naturally, which he said figures into an upcoming movie in which he plays a Diamond impersonator — and a couple of Jean Valjean’s numbers from “Les Misérables,” which Jackman sang in the 2012 movie adaptation that earned him an Academy Award nomination for lead actor. (With an Emmy, a Grammy and two Tonys to his name, he’s an Oscar win away from EGOT status.)
Hugh Jackman with members of the L.A. Phil’s Youth Orchestra Los Angeles on Saturday night.
(Timothy Norris)
For “You Will Be Found,” from “Dear Evan Hansen,” he sat down behind a grand piano and accompanied himself for a bit; for the motor-mouthed “Ya Got Trouble,” from “The Music Man” — the first show he ever did as a high school kid, he pointed out — he came out into the crowd, weaving among the Bowl’s boxes and interacting with audience members as he sang.
“I just saw a lot of friends as I went through,” he said when he returned to the stage. “Hello, Melissa Etheridge and Linda. Hello, Jess Platt. Hi, Steph, hi, David, hi, Sophia, hi, Orlando — so many friends. Very difficult to say hello to friends and still do that dialogue.” He was panting again, this time more showily. “It’s like 53 degrees and I’m sweating.”
The show’s comedic centerpiece was a version of John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” that Jackman remade to celebrate his roots as an “Aussie boy.” There were good-natured jokes about shark attacks and koalas and Margot Robbie, as well as a few pointed political gibes, one about how “our leaders aren’t 100 years old” — “I’m moving on from that joke fast,” he added — and another that rhymed “Life down under is really quite fun” with “I never have to worry: Does that guy have a gun?”
The emotional centerpiece, meanwhile, was “Showman’s” “A Million Dreams,” for which the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra was joined by 18 members of the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s Youth Orchestra Los Angeles. The song itself is pretty cringe, with a lyric bogged down by cliches and a melody you’ve heard a zillion times before. But Jackman sold its corny idealism with a huckster’s sincerity you couldn’t help but buy.
