Also yesterday, Bouzan Hadawi posted an Instagram pic showing himself having a glass of wine with Eriq Ebouaney in Copenhagen. A couple of days before that, Hadawi posted pictures of himself with his Domino stunt double.

Kathryn Bigelow is the only woman to win the Best Director Oscar (for “The Hurt Locker”), and her reputation is largely associated with the formidable kinetic skills she brings to action pictures such as “Strange Days” and “Point Break.”

What’s less known about Bigelow is that she came of age in the conceptual-art scene in New York in the 1970s, and that her master of fine arts thesis film for Columbia University consisted of two men pummeling each other while a professorial observer spouted French theory about the nature of violence.

In short, Bigelow brings a lot to the table. This is truer than ever in “Detroit,” a hot-button horror show that returns Bigelow to her roots in a way that is both fascinating and difficult to watch.

The film begins in patchwork fashion: Detroit racial tension escalates in July 1967. For its first 20 minutes, the movie is a mosaic, complete with archival footage of President Lyndon Johnson and Michigan Gov. George Romney.

In a slow, sneaky way — I can’t think of many movies that have edged toward disaster quite this sinuously — a musical interlude (singers denied their moment on stage when the theater is evacuated because of the violence outside) gradually lead us into what turns out to be the main subject of the film. Lead singer Larry (a remarkable performance by Algee Smith) and buddy Fred (Jacob Latimore) escape the dangerous streets by checking in at the Algiers Motel.

Before long, they’re swept up in police action, as a group of young black men and two white women are beaten and threatened by white policemen. This nerve-shredding situation (based on fact) occupies the long center section of the film.

“Detroit” is written by reporter Mark Boal, who also scripted Bigelow’s “Zero Dark Thirty” and “The Hurt Locker.” Part of the goal here is journalistic, an observational look at how racial violence explodes — one never doubts that the movie is being made now because of the Black Lives Matter movement and the violence that birthed it. But it seems to me that what Bigelow does with the premise dates back to her conceptual-art days.

The shakedown sequence in “Detroit” goes on so long and contains so much excruciating punishment that it turns into something close to ’60s-era guerrilla-theater, where an unsuspecting audience is put through the wringer. (Brian De Palma used this technique, while simultaneously satirizing it, in his 1970 film “Hi Mom!”)

The sequence is too much, a depiction of cruelty that becomes almost sadistic itself. It’s almost nauseating at times. But Bigelow is trying to get us to feel something — what it’s like to be terrorized by the forces that are supposed to be protecting us, for one thing — and she will violate our assumptions about movie-watching in order to do it.

Bigelow and Boal have brilliantly created a bitter pill. We want oppressed characters to fight back and triumph, and there’s no triumph here. There is only one, strangely magical interlude, when Larry and Fred get loose from the terror for a moment — but just for a moment.

Schønnemann tells Ludvigsen that De Palma had read the script and was so excited, he signed on to direct. "It's going smoothly," Schønnemann is quoted in the article. "De Palma is one of the big ones, and you notice it when you work. We are back to some classic De Palma, beautifully lit and with complicated camera movements." Regarding De Palma and cinematographer José Luis Alcaine, Schønnemann says, "They are both older men, but they work around the clock and have completely mastered it."

The SoundVenue article mentions that "Guy Pearce is also on the cast list," although it is hard to tell if that news is taken from IMDB, where Pearce has been listed as part of the cast for weeks, or from a more reliable source.

UPDATE: AUGUST 6, 2017 As of Sunday, August 6th, Pearce is no longer listed in IMDB's cast list for Domino.

These days, van Houten has been zig-zagging through Europe—baby in tow this time—to film Brian De Palma's Domino alongside Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. "It felt like a huge step to work again after having my baby," she says. "But I thought, there's no way I could say no to Brian De Palma"—the visionary director whose diverse filmography includes Carrie, Scarface, The Untouchables, and the first Mission: Impossible. "He's a young guy in the body of a man with so much experience," says van Houten. "He can be quite blunt, and he's not afraid to swear, which I find nice because then at least I don't have to hold back either."

Van Houten and Coster-Waldau play two cops whose investigation into their fellow officer's murder leads them down a rabbit hole populated by CIA agents, ISIS cells, and an international terror plot. Despite the thriller's thoroughly modern and reality-rooted themes, all roads still lead back to Westeros. "It's funny, even I sometimes think, 'Look at me, I'm sitting in a car, having a scene with Jaime Lannister!'" says van Houten. And yes, even they pore over Game of Thrones theories in their off time. "I was talking to Nikolaj the other day about it," she says. "We were sitting in the Green Room, and I said, 'What do you think will happen?' He said, 'I have no fucking clue!'"

You're working on Brian De Palma's Domino with Nikolaj (Coster-Waldau), and had you worked with him before?

No! That was the same thing, it was so strange to have a scene in the car, for people to see us together in regular clothes, with contemporary dialogue. Look at me, with Jaime Lannister! He's so cool!

And he has two hands, which is probably a surprise...

And I don't have red hair!

Has it been good interacting with him?

We'd met in the hallways of hotels and premieres, but not really. It's nice anyway to be around other Europeans! And him being Danish, I've always been fascinated by the Scandinavian language and now I'm in Copenhagen and f*g loving it. It's great to work with the Danes around here... Apart from Mr. De Palma!

How is it working with Brian De Palma?

It's great to work with someone at his age with his kind of spirit. I feel very lucky to be in that role.

Petra Collins: Do you like Fiona Apple? I remember seeing the ‘Criminal’ video – seeing someone displaying themselves so honestly and showing to us that she was sick, it scared me. She turned the ‘heroin chic’ thing on everyone by saying, ‘This is how I am, this is real.’

Selena Gomez: I love Fiona, and that video. My mom introduced me to her. I’ve been listening to her since my childhood. She was doing something very raw for her time. She is an icon, what she does creatively is on another level.

Petra Collins: What is your current obsession or ‘fetish’?

Selena Gomez: Right now, I have a fetish for Brian De Palma films. The way he shoots women is so sexy. I’m printing out pictures to hang up in my new house right now. Melanie Griffith in Body Double. So sexy.

Petra Collins: Oh my God. Brian De Palma. I love him. I’m with you on that one, that’s my fetish right now too.

Rochester City Newspaper's Daniel J. Kushner reviewed last Friday's performance:

Perhaps the less you know going into a performance of Bread and Water Theatre's "Dionysus in '17," the better. Written and staged by the company's artistic director, J.R. Teeter, it should at least be said that the performance art-driven play is a modern update of "The Bacchae," by the Greek tragedian Euripides, filtered through The Performance Group's important, experimental production "Dionysus in '69." Director Brian De Palma also filmed that production for a 1970 movie.

Beyond that, however, prior knowledge of Euripides's plot details or the erotically charged 1969 version may prove to be a distraction from the immersive world to which Teeter and company beckon you.

In Bread and Water Theatre's intimate black box space, the likelihood of interacting with the cast is high. A bacchant, or worshipper of Dionysus, may warn you of the god's impending arrival before inviting you to honor him by joining the ritualistic dance. Or you may be seduced into worship by Dionysus himself.

But just who is this particular Dionysus? From the outset, the line between abstracted, classical Greek myth and real-life, flesh-and-blood Andreas Gabriel Woerner -- the actor playing the chaos-causing Dionysus -- was intentionally unclear. According to Woerner, he discovered he was the god incarnate when an obese man told him so while traveling on the airplane that brought him to America.

While telling this fascinatingly dubious origin story, the Woerner settled into the role of Dionysus with smoldering intensity and vain swagger. Woerner stalked around the theater with the dangerous charisma of a cult leader. Promising freedom, his Dionysus was fittingly fickle, demanding, and hot-headed.

Fully committed, the spirited ensemble cast responded with free-flowing sensuality and latent violence, as evidenced by the tragic end of Pentheus (played by Xavier Hucks), who acted in defiance of Dionysus. As Agave, Pentheus's mother, Nicole Iaquinto gave one of the more impressive performances in the play, communicating with earnest passion the unbridled agony and desperation that are at the heart of Euripides's original tragedy.

In a somewhat disjointed turn toward the end of the play, Teeter ripped the action from safe, distant confines and transplanted them into our frightening contemporary American political landscape. Woerner suddenly began to appropriate the language of our current president, becoming increasingly unhinged as he accused audience members of worshipping him insufficiently -- a lack of loyalty, if you will -- encouraged his followers to punch people in the face, spat out venomous charges of "loser" and "crooked Agave," and talked of pussy-grabbing.

This channeling of Donald Trump was much more overt than William Finley's original evocation of Richard Nixon in 1969. But in 2017, the parallels between Trump and Dionysus are decidedly more striking -- both figures inspire a kind of blind, crazed fealty in his supporters, while promising a paradigm shift that, in some cases, enable bizarre and unstable behavior. An odd comparison, for sure, but it worked.

"Dionysus in '17" follows the swiftly paced structural framework, fundamental plot devices, and avant-garde affectations of "Dionysus in '69," but with updated language (read: plenty of f-bombs) and comparatively tamer sexual elements. This is absolutely not a play meant for children, but it may be an excellent way to start a conversation with your mature-minded teenagers about the intersections of art, politics, and sex. Teeter and his band of actors have created a highly engaging, no-frills production that succeeds in saying something the 1969 version could not.