By @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer

Dear Shonda Rhimes (A.K.A. Queen of TV Broadcasting),

I want to begin this letter by saying I absolutely love your work. I was a bit late in registration and missed the Grey's Anatomy class, but I was present and on time for Scandal from episode 1, "Sweet Baby." I love the story arcs, pacing, character development and plot twists, and have seen every season in full at least 3 times, thanks to DVR. So, when I say I'm genuinely confused and curious about this current season, it's not coming from a shallow, "I'm not amused" place. As a devoted "gladiator," it doesn't make sense to me how much the direction is shifting, much less why.
 
Confused Face #1: How Universes Work
When I say "universes," I don't mean the cosmos. I'm referring to the entities and canon that creative people form when they put together a recurrent body of work, like that of comics, television shows, movies and even albums (that is, if you're Janelle Monae). Much like how our universe has laws (gravity, physics, chemistry, etc.), story-writers ultimately formulate each character, setting and scenario to abide by their own terms of "laws." These are things like a character's weaknesses, strengths, thinking and behavioral patterns, social interactions and the significance of certain environments. I know you're aware of this; it's why Olivia is still head-over-heels for Fitz, and why Mellie is beginning to snap, but has political aims. Taking this into account, I'm puzzled as to why this season is beginning to defy ALL the basic logic of the "universe" your team has worked so hard to build, mainly in the area of character development.

​Why would Olivia consider helping her father and getting him released from prison? Why would she sway?? I get that it was a difficult choice between her independence and possibly getting "lost" in White House trappings while being married to Fitz (it's also against the show's logic that Olivia would internalize Mellie's warnings about this or even have an advice chat with her, but I relevantly digress), but she would never take the illegal route when there's a perfectly legal one right in front of her that wouldn't take much work to fix in her favor. Part of her rationale was that she "didn't want him to die," but she aimed a gun right between her father's eyes and pulled the trigger (it was unloaded, unbeknownst to her). She's helped set him up twice and tried to have Jake kill him on multiple occasions. Letting this man go makes no sense after working for God knows how long in Scandal-years to have him arrested to begin with. All of this support for Rowan has come from nowhere, much like her left-field "at least my father loved me" statement during an argument with Fitz, but we'll talk more about that later.

​Album Review by @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer 
 
Likes: James Joint, Kiss it Better
Dislikes: Woo, Pose, U Needed Me
Overall: Writer's block in album form
 
Rihanna should've listened to the old saying: “Never count your chickens before they hatch” or rather, don't publicly place such high expectations for yourself. ANTI, Rihanna's 8th album release, was set on so many direct and indirect promises of artistry, soulfulness, a new sound and direction over the last year. I can commend Rihanna or any pop singer for deciding to put a little more time and effort into a project for the sake of artistry and quality; however, after listening, I felt short-changed. *Channels 3LW* I'm getting a little tired of Rih's broken promithes, promithes. Was the album “different” for her? Kind of, not really. Was it artistic? It doesn't hold a candle to Rated R.  I won't acknowledge any claims of soulfulness, because...you already know the answer to that inquiry.
 
ANTI's positive attribute is that it's extremely cohesive. The production on each song is dark and the lyrics all come from a similar vantage point: a strong, sometimes feeble woman in or out of a rugged, abusive relationship. The vocal showcase is pretty solid as well. We hear Rihanna's highs and lows, and various textures, with occasional harmonic layering. Even auto-tune is less utilized as a sound effect. Now, here comes the big “but”...nothing about this record is moving, interesting or exciting. It's like a calm lake: there's a unified and definitive body, but nothing's really happening. Starting with production, I'll just say it: it was cheap. High-end engineers notwithstanding, the effects and equalizer leveling were all over the place. Certain songs (ex. “Higher” and “Woo”) peaked in volume at various times and seemed unfinished. There was no dynamic contrast or musicality, trading in instruments for random noises and nonsensical synth chords, solely depending on the thumping sub-bass to fill in gaps or distract from the lack. Worse, there were no bridges or climaxes, aside from the only cover on the album, Tame Impala's “Same Ol' Mistakes." Tracks seemed to be comprised of 2 repetitive loops; 1 for the verse and chorus each. Those that showed potential only proved to be makeshift interludes, lasting roughly a minute or two (“James Joint,” “Yeah I Said It,”“Higher”). Most didn't have the enticing "oomph" that Rihanna's material usually has at bare minimum, regardless of content value. “Kiss It Better” was a standout, giving the feel of an 80's-early 90s rock-ballad that would have a stadium filled with lighters by its chorus. Sadly, it's the only song that contains an attainable melody, much less achieves the “timeless” vibe Rihanna claimed she was aiming for. “Woo” played like a 3 year old banging on a piano to a pseudo-trap beat, while the amateur demo-like “Work” left much to be desired with a lot of empty space between the beat and Rihanna's vocals. Conversely, the vocal production was nearly flawless.
 
Rihanna is heralded for her distinct tone more so than technique, power or pitch perfection. This hasn't changed, as she generally stuck to her signature talk-singy nature and overshadowed sultry moments with
throaty performances. Her Christina Aguilera-like screaming on “Higher” is cringe worthy and will probably never be performed live successfully. The cut should've been extended and then handed to Jazmine Sullivan, Brandy or even Aguilera herself. Nonetheless, Rihanna still has the ability to emote with believability and bring whatever she's singing to life. The helplessness she conveys in “Close To You” will almost make you forget about the pot-hole infested road you took to get to the end of the standard edition. Though I believed her, I didn't understand her for most of the record. Taking a page from Ariana Grande's diction book, phrases were mumbled or under-enunciated. To fully follow where she's trying to go, lyrics will have to be nearby.

After "changing the world with that digital drop" by releasing her 5th LP BEYONCÈ out of nowhere in December 2013 and causing a frenzy, many wondered how pop priestess Beyoncè would follow up promotionally. The answer was simpler than imagined: put out a (presumed) 1st single and video spontaneously. On the eve of her Superbowl 50 appearance with Coldplay and Bruno Mars, came "Formation" (February 6). There is much to be praised and there's much to be disappointed by. "Formation" is delectably rich in black cultural symbols from the southern, New Orleans and LGBT communities, presenting them in an exalted space, as they should be. This is intertwined with references to some of the greatest post-2000 tragedies of the race, the Hurricane Katrina response and law enforcement violence. For example, voice-over audio from New Orleans social media figure Messy Mya (who was murdered in 2010) and bounce music originator Big Freedia is melded with images of a graffiti wall that reads "Stop Shooting Us," a black male child dancing in front of a cop-squad and Beyoncè laying atop a drowning police car. She proclaims "My daddy Alabama, mama Louisiana, you mix that Negro with that Creole-make[s] a Texas bamma, I like my baby['s] hair with baby hair and afros, I like my Negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils, earned all this money, but they never take the country out me; I got hot sauce in my bag, swag."
 
This "Say it out it loud, I'm black and I'm proud" (a James Brown anthem) moment is an important one, both at large and for Beyoncé. Something like this is rarely done in pop, an arena primarily focused on messages that can be absorbed by the general populous for the sake of commerciality; a populous that just so happens to be predominately white. Beyoncé could have initiated a charge for more of this in the genre and a creative shift for herself, as this is her most blatantly socio-political statement. In an atmosphere where racial tension and the challenging/questioning of blackness is back on front-page news, this kind of move to add to and further the discussion, and encourage pride in heritage is necessary and valued. That said, where "Formation" falls significantly short of its glory is in the most crucial place: the lyrics. Remove the aforementioned quote and all you have is overly-repetitious braggadocio that didn't require much brain-power to conceive and barely has anything to do with the point she was trying to convey. The song cannot stand on its own; the visuals did the heavy lifting. In music, visuals are meant to accentuate, not do all the speaking and work for you. If someone were to just read the lyrics or hear the track by itself (as some people I know did), the meaning could easily be lost in translation, defeating the entire purpose. Everyone knows that lyrics are the heartbeat of a piece; it's what stands no matter how or by whom a tune is delivered or performed. They're what's quoted and tattooed on bodies. Beyoncé took this powerful concept and rested it on ONE refrain; this occasion is too momentous to be effectuated in such a surface, half-done and lazy manner. Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come," Stevie Wonder's "Heaven Help Us All" and Nina Simone's "Young, Gifted and Black" (which all are still applicable today, unfortunately) are classic staples because they really tapped into the minority experience and the anguish of the period. Bey missed a 24-karat gold opportunity to give a millennial testimony; like, she could've actually talked about police brutality. She could've made it even more personal and addressed issues that have directly affected her, such as racial politics in the music industry or white feminism's ever-active attack on her and other black female icons. If we're going to "Say it Loud," let's really do it. 

By Rudy Foster, Contributing Writer
 
Grease has been at the top of many musical theater enthusiasts' wish lists for a live television broadcast since NBC resurrected the genre in 2013 with the Carrie Underwood-helmed (and famously reviled) The Sound of Music Live! About the 'opposites attract' love affair between 2 teens and their gang of classmates, Grease is a fluffy slice of Americana that's mischievous and subversive, yet enough fun for the whole family. Its songs and ever-popular 1978 film adaptation, starring John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, have propelled it to become the most-produced musical in the United States. Naturally, if NBC didn't make a move on it, another network would. With Grease: Live, FOX marked its first foray into the live musical theater event, and what a foray it was!
 
I have to start by acknowledging the wonderful team assembled by executive producer Marc Platt and the folks at FOX. Renowned casting director Bernie Telsey filled principal roles with a truly diverse mix of the brightest (and prettiest) young talent on television and Broadway. Julianne Hough, Aaron Tveit and even Vanessa Hudgens were not surprising selections for this project; they'd be on anyone's short list. Talent like Keke Palmer (a haughty and precocious Marty), Carlos Penavega (an adorably dim Kenickie) and singer Carly Rae Jepsen (a delightful, angelic Frenchy) were more inspired choices: famous and endowed by any definition, but not likely to be first thoughts for a piece set in a typical American high school in 1959. The casting of the "adults" was no less impressive. Ana Gasteyer, a proven comedic powerhouse, and Wendell Pierce, one of our most underrated actors, both have Broadway and musical theater credits. As a stage actor myself, I'm generally hard on performers in these projects, but I had real trouble finding a weak link in the cast. Hough and Hudgens were standouts as the show's leading ladies, Sandy and Rizzo, respectively. Hough oozed the greenness and earnestness her character required. When she launched into "Hopelessly Devoted to You" after Sandy is jilted by her beau, Danny Zuko (played with equal parts cocksure bravado and puckish boyishness by Tveit), one believes that a girl so innocent would respond to a perceived sleight with the passion and dramatics the song demands. Hudgens fabulously commanded her Pink Ladies squad and created near-tangible, white-hot chemistry with Penavega. Her rendition of "There Are Worse Things I Could Do" was the best vocal of the night. Other notable performances include Kether Donohue's unabashedly quirky Jan, Haneefah Wood's scene-stealing, gum-chewing school secretary Blanche, and Jordan Fisher's way-too-sexy-for-Doody vocals on "Those Magic Changes."