The Stranger

Lupe Fiasco's headlining slot at last year's Bumbershoot was a star-making performance. Lupe, wearing all white, owned the stadium, shaking its foundations with deep, bass-bomb beats and flying around the stage while still nailing his intricate rhymes. His sophomore album, The Cool, is a conflicted record—misfired cheeseburger rap gives way to a comic-book narrative starring characters named the Cool, the Game, and the Streets—but it's wall-to-wall dexterous wordplay and grand, summer-blockbuster production. (Showbox at the Market, 1426 First Ave, 628-3151. 8 pm, $22.50 adv/$25 DOS, all ages.) by Eric Grandy

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Moby Dick is a weird, impassioned collage of a book and Fluke, an adaptation of Melville's opus by the NYC trio Radiohole, is a weird, impassioned collage of a show. Among its elements: a raving Ahab, a song by Rammstein, a bucket of Budweiser, lots of ropes and knots, Tokyo Rose, dinghies on wheels, and a new gadget called the Audio Spotlight, which can throw the actors' voices around the theater or beam them directly into your skull. (On the Boards, 100 W Roy St, 217-9888. 8 pm, $24, Jan 10–13.) by Brendan Kiley

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Crispin Hellion Glover is back with the second part of his macabre and uncompromising trilogy starring the severely handicapped. Last year's What Is It? was a surreal mindfuck starring snails, gorgeous red-lipped girls with Down syndrome, and Adam Parfrey in blackface. It Is Fine! Everything Is Fine is an explicit psychosexual fantasy about a shunned man. Its author and star lived in a nursing home and died of complications from cerebral palsy shortly after the film was made. Glover, as always, will be there for a slide show and Q&A. (Broadway Performance Hall, 1625 Broadway, www.ticketwindowonline.com. 7 pm, $17–$20, Jan 10, 11, and 13.) by Kelly O

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The Aaron Sorkin–penned Charlie Wilson's War tells the story of a Dem from East Texas in the 1980s who loves the ladies, hates the Commies, and believes the Soviet Union must be vanquished in Afghanistan, even if it means pouring billions into the pockets of the little-understood rebels known as the mujahideen. Tom Hanks isn't annoying, Julia Roberts plays a Republican, and Philip Seymour Hoffman is a fat CIA slob. It's a timely reminder: Ending a war is all very nice, but watch out for what comes next. (See movie times for details.) by Annie Wagner

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Randall Kennedy, a Harvard Law School professor and author of Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word, reads from his new and timely book Sellout. Now, who is a sellout? Condoleezza Rice is a sellout; Colin Powell is a sellout; Clarence "Uncle" Thomas is a sellout; even Barack Obama is a motherfucking sellout. And what is a sellout? A sellout is a black person who sold his/her soul for white recognition and success. Kennedy's book explores the history of the idea of "racial betrayal." (Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave, 634-3400. 7:30 pm, $5.) by Charles Mudede

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Fifteen-year-old Billy has a Maine accent, an abiding love for KISS, and a crush on a girl who works in a diner. He's also a badass: "I know I'm unique. I don't let it go to my head." Billy was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome—a highly verbal disorder on the autism spectrum—after the film was finished, and some have accused the filmmakers of exploiting their subject. But Billy the Kid lets you see the character first and his autism second. It's a terrific documentary. (SIFF Cinema, 321 Mercer St, 633-7151. $8–$10, 7:30 pm, Jan 11–17.) by Annie Wagner

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