​This was my reaction when I heard that R&B legend Toni "THEE" Braxton (as her youngest sibling Tamar would say) was getting a TV biopic: *Gasps* Really?!! Yes! Who's doing it? *Exasperated* Lifetime?! *Face-palms* They need to quit; haven't they made enough disastrous, poorly executed and ridiculously inaccurate biopics? Oh, it's based on Toni's book (Unbreak My Heart)? Then there may be hope, and I'll catch any errors because I've read it. *Grins*
 
I indeed caught errors and changes, but let me first address the film's overall quality. To my relief, nothing struck me as particularly awful. From the jump, this venture had a leg up from its Lifetime predecessors because material was being pulled from an authorized source and Braxton's actual vocals were used. There was a perceptible disconnect with 2015's Whitney, because not only did model-actress Yaya DaCosta not look or behave like Whitney Houston, she didn't sound like her either (singer Deborah Cox rerecorded the tracks needed for the movie). The principal (and most obvious) requisite for any biographical film is that the presence of its subject must be felt. Voice-over narration and an appearance by Braxton once the story was brought to present-day, which included an outro of her playing the piano and performing the title song, was a very nice touch and provided additional credibility (fun fact: Braxton contributed her own performance and award gowns to wardrobe).  
 
So, the music was there and a reasonable amount of reliability was established, but what about the portrayals? The casting aesthetics weren't ideal; without dialogue or a certain wig, it was hard to tell who was who, especially with the Braxton sisters. Tyler Perry team-members Gavin Houston (The Haves and The Have Nots) as Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds and Andre Hall (Love Thy Neighbor) as Keri Lewis were the closest resemblances. Starring lead Lex Scott Davis wasn't exactly a dead ringer for Toni Braxton, but she's so stunning, I didn't care. More importantly, she nailed her part and it felt like she did her homework. Mannerisms and body language were emulated naturally, and her lip-sync game was on point. The incomparable and grossly underrated Debbi Morgan (her credits include All My Children and Eve's Bayou) showed exactly why those adjectives apply to her with award-flair delivery as Evelyn, Toni's strict and commanding mother. Collectively, everyone gave acceptable performances, making likeness less of an issue. 

WARNING: This review contains spoilers.

What could go wrong when you genetically-manufacture dinosaurs for human entertainment? An adaptation of a novel, the Jurassic Park film series begged to answer that question with 3 popular Steven Spielberg-affiliated installments over 8 years; the last one being released in 2001. Plot ideas for a 4th movie were reportedly bounced around, and apparently it took 14 years to settle on one. Looking at the ultimate concept, one might wonder why it took so much brain power: the scientists create a dinosaur that ends up threatening everyone's life. Sounds pretty obvious...and familiar. At a baseline level, Jurassic World (directed by Colin Trevorrow with a co-written screenplay by Trevorrow, Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver and Derek Connolly) is a good, enjoyable film because it provides what we go to the franchise for: cool effects and terrifying creatures eating people. From an analytical standpoint, however, there are a few kinks.

First, the elements used to elevate the storyline from being a mere rehash of the original (the intended homages are nicely done, by the way) ironically do that very thing or are underdeveloped. It's 22 years later on the Costa Rican island of Isla Nublar and the dinosaur amusement park has been rebuilt and opened as Jurassic World. Tightly-wound operations manager Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard; Ron Howard's offspring, if you didn't know), wigs out regularly as new concoctions of animals have to be made-with increasing fear factor-every few years to keep the novelty from wearing off. In one of the opening scenes, she chastises a co-worker for insensitively wearing a classic Jurassic Park t-shirt because "people died;" a point that keeps being made along with a dogmatic theme about not underestimating animals and treating them with respect, but here we are...using gargantuan beasts, made intentionally frightening, as play things...as if this hasn't happened before and garnered terrible results. Claire has this love-hate, opposites-attract, attraction-relationship thing with laid-back trainer Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) that would fine if it wasn't so predictable and they actually had chemistry. Her other connections involve her older sister, Karen (Judy Greer, whom I still refer to as "Fern Mayo from Jawbreaker") and 2 nephews, Zach and Gray. Karen has this solemn aura and is pressed to make the dinosaur-loving Gray's 1st trip to Jurassic World perfect, hinting that something's up. I thought she was dying, but it was less dramatic than that: the boys don't know a divorce is on the table. Claire doesn't know this either, but she doesn't know anything. She hardly sees or talks to her family, and when her nephews arrive, she puts them off on her assistant. Yet, she makes some disgruntled, contradictory remark about being single and childless. I'd say that she was written confusing on purpose if the script explained her neuroticism and detachment. We also don't know why teenage Zach is so dejected, rude to his little brother and a playboy, beyond just being an adolescent. The character details were handled like a bare-minimum, obligatory requirement. The resolution was done the same way; after the crisis was *Olivia Pope voice* handled (I won't spoil that part), we didn't see how the chips fell. For the entire movie, Claire is obsessed with the reputation and sustenance of the park, to the point of not evacuating it in danger for public relation's sake, but we don't know if she lost her job for negligence of if the park closed. Zach and Gray didn't confront their parents about the divorce (Gray put things together). Did they even get the divorce? Yes, I know there's going to be a follow-up film, but there were no teasers or lead-ins; not even after the credits. If I didn't hear about it beforehand, I'd have no indication that a 5th Jurassic Park was coming. 

Film Review.
WARNING: This review contains SPOILERS.

By the trailers and promotional interviews given by producer and lead actor Kevin Costner, Black or White is an enlightening film that boldly confronts racial dynamics and the deeply-rooted, prejudiced psychology that causes racism and bias to still live and breathe today. *Tamar Braxton voice* Lies! It just re-legitimizes the very ideologies it claims to tackle.

Costner plays affluent attorney Elliot Anderson, who loses his wife at the top of the film, leaving him to raise his 8-year-old granddaughter, Eloise (Jillian Estell), on his own. Eloise's mother died during childbirth at age 17; she got pregnant by a then 23-year-old man, Reggie (Andre Holland), with a rap-sheet and drug addiction. Reggie's mother, Rowena (Octavia Spencer), had a genial relationship with Elliot's wife and asks him for shared custody so Eloise will continue to have a mother figure. Elliot's adamant refusal (assumingly a product of his resentment towards Reggie) causes Rowena to hire her lawyer brother, Jeremiah (Anthony Mackie), and initiate a trial. She believes Elliot's hesitant because of her lower middle-class status and that he has negative views about black people, which Jeremiah chooses to harp on and plans to suggest to the judge that he's a bigot. When Reggie comes out of M.I.A. status, he's been clean for 2 years, but immediately asks Elliot for money to pay off shady debts in exchange for testifying in his favor against Rowena. Elliot hands over the money and agrees to schedule a dinner for Reggie to meet Eloise; Reggie of course doesn't show up. When they have an argument about this a few days later, Elliot tells Reggie to stop acting like a "street nigger" because he comes from a good family. Jeremiah brings this up while Elliot is on the stand as evidence of a racist mindset. Elliot explains Reggie used the phrase to describe himself in text messages to his daughter (i.e. "Your street nigger is outside, baby") and it was just embedded in his memory. Likening observing one's race to noticing a woman's cleavage, he says he doesn't know why he automatically sees these things, but asserts it doesn't dictate his feelings and any visible disdain he has is because of Reggie's actions only. That night, Reggie pays him a visit high as a kite while Elliot is drunk as a skunk (he's inebriated most of the movie and often in front of Eloise, by the way). Reggie comes at him with a knife, but Elliot is able to kick it in the pool. Reggie goes in the house to accost Eloise. Elliot ends up falling in the pool, gets tangled up in a tarp and nearly drowns. Upon seeing Eloise's drawing of the 3 of them, Reggie returns to Elliot, pulls him from the water and apologizes for what he did to his daughter. The next day in court, Reggie drops his personal petition and says Elliot is a more adequate parent. Rowena is moved when Elliot doesn't mention what happened the night before (as planned) and she too drops her bid for her full custody, which only escalated from shared because of Elliot's obduracy.  In the closing, Elliot drops Eloise off at Rowena's for 2 weeks, with the implication that he's going to seek treatment for his alcoholism.

Racism and discrimination is often dismissed as a figment of minority imagination and/or a past issue that only is a discussion topic because people of color bring it up or "play the race card." Instead of addressing this false perception, the plot development and structure feed into it, as it reads for Rowena's suspicions to be largely unfounded and the 1 instance that could substantiate them is instantly eradicated and weakly explained away without further inspection, conversation or critical thinking and epiphanies on Elliot's part. Elliot gives an impassioned speech on behalf of all whites who have had a "nigger" slip, but there are no monologues that validate Rowena's concern for how Eloise's cultural identity is or isn't being nurtured. The black characters are villainzed: Rowena's wanting to disrupt Eloise's life and makes excuses for Reggie, Jeremiah is the 1st of the lawyers to play dirty and Reggie is a deadbeat, strung-out father. The story shoots for neutrality in the scuffle scene and those that follow by attempting to draw parallels between Elliot and Reggie's substance abuse, but it was too late in the game, not obvious enough and is countered by the rest of the movie with Elliot's clear protagonism. Though he constantly exposes a minor to his alcoholism, says the N-word and fought shared custody for no apparent reason with a woman who's the trusted guardian of her nieces and nephews (that Eloise happily spends time with), we're supposed to sympathize the most with him. Not to mention, it's so unrealistic that an alcoholic would retain full custody.

Aside from the film's gargantuan failure to deal with its subject, it's pretty uneventful and has a suffering pace. It's also quite unfeeling, despite the loss, racial politics, legal battle and cute kid. The scene where Elliot tells Eloise her grandmother died was astonishingly dry. Furthermore, we see how he struggles to cope, but not Eloise. The death is the plot's catalyst and Eloise is supposed be the heart of the movie and what connects the feuding leads, but things are barely shown from her point of view. Jeremiah has more of a pivotal role than she does. All considered, you're not able to get emotionally invested in the characters or the results of the case. With an age-old skewed presentation of race relations and overall aloofness, Black or White defeats its own purpose.

By C. Allen, Contributing Writer

WARNING: This review contains SPOILERS.

When there are so many fascinating, well-conceptualized independent films by gifted talent that hardly anyone sees because of limited promotion and sponsorship, it's always surprising when a major distributor like Universal Pictures backs a movie with a cliché` plot, especially when there's no new life breathed into it. Young lover/fatal attraction combo The Boy Next Door follows teacher and jilted wife, Claire Peterson (Jennifer Lopez), as her life dangerously turns upside down after having a one-night-stand with her whipper-snapper neighbor, Noah (Ryan Guzman).

There are so many devices of convenience to make Claire and Noah's proximity plausible (like him living next door and her marriage being on the rocks after infidelity), it's confusing why writer Barbara Curry would pack her story with so many forced, silly setups and situations. The usual statutory rape factor is eliminated because Noah is 20-years-old, but he might as well be underage, as he came to live with his great-uncle after being orphaned, befriends Claire's teen son and weasels his way into her literature class (by hacking into her email and sending a message to administrators insisting he be allowed in) under the guise that he's trying to complete his GED. Adult GED programs take place in local high-schools during the day with minors? Oh, ok. The lead-in to their singular love scene was so brief, random and without context, it was more like one you'd see in a porn versus a full-length movie, although it was steamy and nicely choreographed. It goes down like this: he has a cooking disaster. She comes over to save the day after a disaster date. He flatters her. They have sex. Good grief. At a school dance, there's a flood in the boy's bathroom and instead of a night janitor, Claire is summoned to attend to it. This illogical moment happens just so she can see "I f***** Claire Peterson" sprawled on the wall and be cornered by Noah. As the film the progresses, the details of Noah's back-story seem even more senseless and dysfunctional because it only explains his secondary actions towards Claire's husband and son. We never get more understanding about his infatuation with her or why it happens so instantly. While the climax is acceptably suspenseful, the ridiculousness of the particulars is most obtrusive there and the ending (i.e. how our villain dies) is quite the let down.

The cast, bless their hearts, work with the script the best they can. John Corbett is the only actor out of place; it's just not believable that this man is J.Lo's husband. On that note, I wonder if it frustrates or insults Lopez that when the characters she portrays have a family, they're often Caucasian and there's no acknowledgement that she's Latina. Guess that's another conversation. Why is the amazing Kristin Chenoweth, who plays the vice principal, in this movie? Why did they kill her? How do you kill Kristin Chenoweth?! How does Hill Harper only get a throwaway role and scenes? What's going on? Talent was wasted why?

The Boy Next Door is like a Lifetime Network movie: you're intrigued by the premise and are curious enough to sit through (and laugh at) superfluous exaggerations and specs, only to somehow get sucked into caring about the outcome and be disappointed by the rushed, stupid ending that doesn't vindicate the 2 hours of your life gone. Actually, at least Lifetime movies are sure to add a crazy twist or angle to archetypal plots.

Movie Review.
By Jamaal D. Pittman, Contributing Writer

So I’m in the mood for a little nostalgia. Remember What’s Love Got to Do With It?, the story of Ike Turner’s descent into drug addiction during his tumultuous marriage to superstar Tina Turner? No? Well, how about Ray, the big-screen story of Margie Hendricks’ desperate attempt to convince the title character to finally abandon his womanizing ways and let true love guide him? Still no? I didn’t think so. Me neither, which makes it even more jarring that the protagonist in Lifetime’s Whitney plays a supporting, but throwaway, role. I could be wrong, but I believe this is the first biopic where the titular character is the least dynamic and interesting and I’m counting day players. We learn a lot (more) about Bobby Brown, his children and his dreams for the future. The film goes on to chronicle his struggle to cope with Whitney’s success, the death of his long-time friend and how desperate he (allegedly) was to conquer his drug and alcohol addiction.

In contrast, we learned the following: Whitney was talented. She had trust issues. She loved Bobby. And she loved her coke. All things that we gathered prior to her untimely death in 2012. Everything else went unanswered. Like, what made her turn to drugs, why was Bobby such a magnet for her and why did she struggle so much with her de facto role as ‘America’s sweetheart’? If we took the film’s screenplay as the gospel truth, then the theme of this movie can be summed up quickly: Bobby Brown was a victim of his demons. And Whitney Houston, intentionally or not, was the demon. Whether or not the story was based on fact or fiction, a viewer could easily walk away from this movie feeling more sympathetic to Bobby’s plight (that is, if you can call being married to and loved by Whitney Houston a plight). Kim is pregnant: poor Bobby, Whitney should have hung on to him. Clive wants to meet with Bobby, not for a record deal, but to discuss Whitney going on tour: poor Bobby, Clive should have known better than to use him as a pawn. Bobby is now married to the biggest music star in the world: he can no longer be a philandering alcoholic, that poor, poor Bobby.

There are a few strong scenes in the movie, but the holes in the portrayals, like Alex Forrest in Fatal Attraction, refuse to be ignored. In the opening scene, model-turned-actress Yaya DaCosta says “Time to be Whitney Houston,” but two hours later and post-credits, we realized we were duped by an unrevealed spoiler: she would never deliver on that statement. I was on the film’s set the day the Soul Train performance scenes of Whitney and Bobby were shot and I walked away with one conclusion: while DaCosta’s on-stage scenes as Whitney would be spot on, her off-stage scenes would lack the weight, prowess and believability needed to make this film and role work. Unfortunately, the opposite turned out to be true when viewing the entire film in context. In spite of her best efforts and several powerhouse scenes, DaCosta delivers too inconsistent a performance to be completely convincing as the larger-than-life Houston. Then again, given the divergent facets of Houston’s persona, it could be written off as simply a strong acting choice instead of a blatant lack of character study. In a few scenes, it seemed as if DaCosta had spent years researching Houston for this moment; in others, it was as though she were handed the script mere seconds before the slate was read. It was in one fleeting scene, by the pool with friend Robyn Crawford (played by Yolanda Ross), that she finally seemed to rise to the occasion. In this singular moment, she recognizes the tall order before her, channeling Whitney’s speech patterns, tone and inflections to seemingly eerie precision, but alas, sustainability was not in the cards. 

I am convinced that DaCosta saved the heavy lifting for the dramatic dialogue of the confrontation scenes and not much time was allotted to making sure the lip-synching and movements were true to Houston’s on-stage presence. In fact, in some parts, the lip-synching was glaringly amateurish. Even more than that, the unnecessary overworking of Houston’s stage mannerisms was a distraction. While the real-life Whitney sweated profusely from time to time, even in her most energetic performances and at her most vocally vulnerable, she never seemed to be “working” for it. She belted out her numbers with cool confidence and with none of the facial strain and tension that her big-voiced contemporaries were employing. Whether she was singing “I Will Always Love You” or “How Will I Know,” she had a relaxed disposition that made it all seem so effortless. Arlen Escarpeta did a decent job as Bobby Brown, but here’s a little tidbit that the people who weren’t on set don’t know: he seemed incredibly uncomfortable performing as Brown during “Every Little Step.” The gentlemen who was his body double looked, moved and acted at ease and way more Bobby-esque than Escarpeta ever did. Double-Bobby had the crowd mesmerized, eating out of the palm of his hand and wondering why he wasn’t cast as Bobby. However, I do believe that Escarpeta has chops as an actor and deserves a better showcase for his talent. He was just cast in the wrong film.

Yes, I understand that the film had not secured the rights to use Whitney’s voice and one would have to be tone deaf to dispute Deborah Cox’s vocal prowess. Nevertheless, Cox’s voice, as great as it is, was a liability to the believability of the movie in terms of Whitney’s global appeal because, unlike Houston, Deborah does not possess what one calls a ‘crossover voice.’ Fair or not, it is what it is. The film acknowledged early on that Houston sold 30 million records within the first four years of her career and also achieved seven consecutive Hot 100 number-one hits, which only reinforces how rare and once-in-a-generation Whitney’s voice was. Technically, Deborah can hit the notes, but in the 1980s, long before auto-tune and digital downloads, it usually took a special kind of voice with a certain quality to achieve that kind of international success in such a short period of time; especially if the artist was black. Combining Deborah Cox’s voice with the massive success of Whitney Houston would likely make a casual, unaware viewer wonder how she was able to sell so many records in that period with a voice that was great, but definitely did not appeal to a wide fan base.

I won’t delve too much into the major factual errors in this film--like not only was Whitney not a performer at the Soul Train awards that night, but was booed by the audience during the nominee roll call for being ‘too pop’ --but I have to address the missed opportunity that came with its omission. Whitney’s rejection by the African-American audience at that time undoubtedly affected her psyche and could’ve theoretically factored into her attraction to Bobby Brown, R&B’s then-leading man. An accurate exploration of this pivotal moment could have made for a much more compelling film.

While I thought the casting of Ross as Crawford was indisputably inspired, I disagreed with the reduction of her role to, dare I say it, a supportive ‘mammy’ figure, voice of reason and a sage. People have speculated for years about the extent of their relationship (there were rumors of romantic involvement). I won’t jump into that debate, but one thing can be said for sure: it had to have been more meaningful than the overdone, know-it-all best friend archetype. The actress gave a strong presentation, despite the limitations of the script and Crawford warranted more. Additionally, the inclusions of Mark Rolston as Clive Davis and Suzzanne Douglass as Cissy Houston were a treat. Douglass has always been a strong and dependable actress, and this time was no exception. In particular, her reaction to Whitney’s engagement was a highlight.

So what’s my overall feeling of the film? Despite some good performances and a few memorable moments, this film was largely uneven. The good news: It was much better than the Wendy Williams-produced Aaliyah debacle that preceded it. The bad news: it wasn’t nearly as well done as it should have been, and that’s disappointing, given that Houston’s story is a treasure trove of great material to work with. Years later, we’re still trying to reconcile the crossover marketing campaign of the 1980s and 1990s with the drug-focused bad press of the last few years of her life, and how that dichotomy ultimately helped to destroy her. Here’s hoping the inevitable big-screen version will get it right.

J.Says’ Perspective: 
I agree with 99.9% of Jamaal’s review. The movie should’ve been titled Bobby Brown: Misunderstood Angel, as majority of it displayed his point-of-view: his private thoughts and social interactions, and painted the picture that all of his vices and poor choices were the result of being married to Whitney. Did they really expect us to believe that he started drinking after an awkward meeting with Clive Davis? He himself has said his alcoholism ignited prior to marrying Houston. Houston stated in her last interview with Oprah Winfrey that she did a little bit of cocaine pre-Bodyguard and began heavier use after (this was supported by Brown), but she was doing a line every other scene. Meanwhile, Brown was seen doing it only twice. Also, how convenient was it that the biopic ended around the Bodyguard tour, before Brown’s nearly-annual arrests (causes included DUI’s, drug possession, child support violations and abuse claims) and him spitting in her face (as described by Houston with Oprah)? I already found it exploitive and disturbing that Houston’s former cast-mate and (so-called) pal, Angela Bassett, would direct a film centralized on the most publicized aspect of her life, so it didn’t help that the project seemed to have a very slanted, white-washed perspective. If anything, Houston and Brown were equally flawed. Was Bassett Whitney’s or Bobby’s friend? I’m confused. The ending credits were laughable, going on about her accomplishments as if the movie were actually about her or her career. As for DaCosta; I didn’t feel Whitney, really. There was such a disconnect for me that I couldn’t picture Whitney in the scenarios depicted. It wasn’t like Jennifer Lopez in Selena or Jamie Foxx in Ray, where you forget you’re looking at Lopez and Foxx. She also played it too sweet and girlish. The movie was called Whitney, but I didn’t see her anywhere. I searched high, low and just around the river bend. How unnecessarily over-the-top was the first sex scene, by the way? I saw hands going down underwear and stroking. That was too much, too wide and didn’t fit. Whitney was such a weird, alternate, sometimes SNL spoof -like universe, that when Lifetime aired live show clips after, it was refreshing. It was refreshing to see HER actual face and hear HER actual voice. Now, that was Whitney. Jamaal titled this “Not Right, Just Okay,” but “Not Right, Not Okay” wouldn’t have been unfair.

By Eddie J., Contributing Writer

Dear Lifetime,

I know you don't know me, or care to hear a blogger's input on the new collection of moving images you’ve just released entitled Aaliyah: Princess of R&B, so I'm not going to critique your “movie” or call it bad. I just have a legitimate survey for everyone involved in the project, including the actors that helped make it possible.

1) Do you know what due diligence (AKA research) is?
2) If so, was it done for this movie?
3) *Tamar Braxton voice* Are we sure?
4) Why was there auto-tune? 
5) Why did Aaliyah only own 2 pairs of sweatpants for the first 5 years of her career? 
6) Why couldn't homegirl (i.e. Alexandra Shipp) dance, especially since she was, you know, portraying someone known for choreography? 
7) Did the budget go over before a choreographer was booked?
8) Why did R. Kelly look like Treach from Naughty by Nature? 
9) Why was the Eiffel tower in England?
10) Why didn't anyone, including "Aaliyah," know how to correctly pronounce her name? It’s not Uh-liyah. It’s Aa-liyah, like Muhammad Ali, which brings me back to question 2.
11) Why was her dad African? 
12) Why did we get 2014 Missy Elliott portrayed in 1994? 
13)...With Kelly Rowland's old lopsided hairdo? 
14) Why did Damon Dash look like Shaun T with Sharpie tattoos? 
15) Why was pedophilia praised and romanticized in the film? 
16) Why was every character in the realm of light-skinned? 
17) Why do I have a light-skinned friend AND a dark skinned friend that looks like Missy Elliott, thanks to your movie depiction?
18) Why was 2012's "Make a Little Room" by Jarvis, background music for a scene set in 1992?
19) How did Iggy Azalea make the movie score/trailer?
20) Did we REALLY need two "kiss" scenes between a depicted 27-year-old R. Kelly with a 15-year-old Aaliyah?
21) Why did Kidz Bop provide the backing tracks for these songs?
22) Why could we see the camera crew's reflection in several scenes?
23) So...Aaliyah's parents were WRONG for ending R. Kelly's pedophilic relationship with Aaliyah?
24) ...And Aaliyah was mad at them and heartbroken over it for 8 years?
25) Did losing some rights to Aaliyah's image mean losing rights to her talent as well?
26) When in the One in a Million era did Aaliyah grind on shirtless men and feel on their abs?
27) Was this a prank?
28) Do you know what Aaliyah's name means?
29) No? Well...look it up and then tell us the irony of the movie you made.

In conclusion:
Dear White People (yeah we're going there, briefly): this just in...Making a movie about a black celebrity solely for capital gain with no knowledge or care for their legacy is a form of racism.
Dear Black People: Even if the struggle is real for you as an actor, writer, producer, etc., think twice before you put your name on someone else's material as a blatant pawn. Money isn't always worth respect.

P.S.: I hope you fire the “genius” who saw Aaliyah trending on Twitter twice a year for the last 6 years or so and thought "We could make money off this! And show this film twice a year--her birthday and day of death!" 

P.S.S: You tried it...and failed.

P.S.S.S.S.: Oh, and extend to your lead actress too, if no one else. “Try Again,” your alleged favorite Aaliyah song, was on the 2000 Romeo Must Die soundtrack, not from the One in a Million album in 1996, Alexandra.

Signed,

Eddie J.

Note from J.Says: I did not watch this “movie,” nor did I want to, especially after I learned that talk-show host Wendy Williams, who shamelessly makes her money spreading lies and festering rumors about public figures and jokes about their misfortunes, became an executive producer. After reading reviews, it’s confirmed I made the right decision to not support it with my ratings. Just the notion that Aaliyah’s life and legacy would not be done justice is severely unsettling and upsetting to me. I commend Zendaya Coleman, the film’s original lead, for having the courage to back away because she felt the same way. I hope eventually there will be a quality piece of work that will expose Aaliyah to those unfamiliar with her. This project coming to fruition just makes me miss her more.

If you look up old reviews on RottenTomatoes.com, several movie critics panned 1993’s Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit, but for many music lovers and those of a certain age, the film about a spirited Vegas performer who goes undercover to whip rebellious high school students into shape at the convent that once sheltered her is an entertaining, heartwarming comedy with a bangin’ soundtrack that’s now perfect 90’s nostalgia. In my opinion, it’s one of the few sequels that’s better than its original (like Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, another movie I adore from my childhood). The usual penetrating light of the incomparable Whoopi Goldberg is wonderfully complimented by the colorful and musically-gifted youth cast, who were then unknowns (I’ll give some cast updates in a moment). One might assume that a movie so fun wouldn’t have takeaways that would stand any test of time, but there were even subtle things beyond the plot that stuck with me. So, in recognition of its 20th anniversary (can’t believe it’s been that long; I feel old), here are the cool-and kind of deep things- I learned and loved from Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit.

An Extended Vocabulary
Thanks to this film, I had an impressive vocabulary at age 8. I picked up all kinds of stuff from scenes with the Afro-centric Ahmal (Ryan Toby), dorky Tyler Chase (Christian Fitzharris) and Delores Van Cartier, A.K.A. Sister Mary Clarence (Goldberg). I told my mother we didn’t have to buy tissue anymore if we put in a bidet, a toilet basin used to clean your privates after you’ve used the restroom (Mary Clarence funnily assumes the nuns got her one to snazzy-up her humble quarters). I often told my brother to extricate himself expeditiously from my room (Tyler:" the question at hand is how do we get this nun to extricate herself from us quickly and expeditiously?"). I learned the definition and proper pronunciation of anecdote (Rita: “I'm sorry I don't have any cute stories or antidotes to tell you.” Ahmal: “Anec, anecdote.”  Rita: “Ahmal, shut up, mind your business”) and realized the meaning of the tabloid title, National Enquirer (Sketch: “Sister Mary Clarence said you quit the choir.” Maria: “Inquiring minds want to know”). The teens were in a music class, but there was science and multicultural studies involved: “fusion” was applied to glue Mary Clarence to her chair and Ahmal described his parents as “assimilationist” for giving him the more American name of Wesley vs. an African one like Ahmal. I don’t think my mom expected me to learn about human reproduction: Maria’s messed up mascara reminded Ahmal of the Mangbetu tribe’s ‘signs of fertility.’ There was also a tidbit of criminology. Mary Clarence berates the students for conceding to their cold feet before a live performance, saying “That's ya’ll’s M.O. See, that's how y'all operate—Ooh, something new; better run away." M.O. is Latin for modus operanti. The English translation is “method of operation,” used in criminology to describe the behavioral patterns of serial perpetrators. When that was explained in a college course, I thought “that’s what Mary Clarence meant!” My friend personally connected to the scene where Father Maurice called Mary Clarence “insubordinate” (defiant of authority; disobedient to orders) because his principal called him that multiple times.

Last but not least, I discovered 2 words that are my favorite to this day: plethora (Ahmal: “I'm sure we'll have a plethora of other opportunities”) and eclectic. Remember that scene where Mary Clarence says she’s “eclectic?” I love it; it’s one of my favorites. Margaret (Jennifer Love Hewitt) asks what the word means and Frankie (Devin Kamin), thinking he’s smarter than everyone, says “It’s when you plug your box in the wall and it gives you power, stupid." Ahmal, his somewhat rival, snaps back with “Not electric, eclectic. Stupid.” Finally, Mary Clarence: “What I mean is I like lots of different types of music.” Being the music nerd I was (and future music blogger), I definitely took the word the heart. 

History
Ahmal cites Paul Laurence Dunbar and Shaka Zulu to uplift his peers and Mary Clarence hands Rita a book by Rainer Maria Wilke. Dunbar, a son of newly freed slaves, was a poet known for his dialect writings. Shaka Zulu was an African warrior king who’s military and ruling approaches are praised, criticized and analyzed, due to their both innovative and violent nature. Wilke is considered in literary history as one of the most enchanting visionaries, focused on existentialism at the heart of a transitioning period in poetry between the traditional and modernist eras.

After 14 years, writer, producer and director Malcolm D. Lee (yes, he’s related to Spike Lee) returns with a 2nd (holiday-centered) chapter to his popular, urban cult-classic, “The Best Man,” with the entire original cast on-board, including Taye Diggs, Morris Chestnut, Nia Long, Terrance Howard and Sanaa Lathan, with addition Eddie Cirbrian.

Just in case you haven’t seen “The Best Man,” the movie surrounds old college pals celebrating the upcoming wedding of football star Lance Sullivan (Chestnut) and his long-time girlfriend, Mia (Monica Calhoun). Lance’s best man, Harper (Diggs) is getting ready to publish a book entitled “Unfinished Business,” in which the group slowly, but surely figures out is based on them (despite Harper’s attempts to disguise this) and Mia’s secret that she slept Harper to avenge being frequently cheated on by Lance gets exposed. The wedding happens and all the other sub-plot mishaps are seemingly resolved, but as you’ll see in the “Best Man Holiday” sequel, things between Harper and Lance were never the same.

I have to say, based on the trailers, I wasn’t interested in seeing this sequel. I loved the idea of this talented cast reuniting, but the previews in which we see the bunch just hanging out and having humorous conversations made “Holiday” appear to be a plot-less vanity project. I ended up heading to the theater though (can’t resist a girls-night-out invite) and I now know why the previews were shot like they were. It’s nearly impossible to drop hints about the inner details without giving everything away; so much so, I wasn’t even sure how I’d complete this critique. Here goes nothing. Everyone’s careers (and families) have blossomed in one way or another and they’ve all gotten really preoccupied. Mia rounds up the gang for Christmas weekend at her and Lance’s mansion. At 1st glance, lives look stable and near-perfect, but their personal tribulations bubble over into plain view with everyone under the same roof and Lance and Mia have the biggest secret of all. Movies with this type of backdrop are hard to make unpredictable, but somehow Lee avoided clichés and cheesy, scandalous, over-the-top story devices and still gives us a riveting, highly emotive film that we could be engrossed in. Lee accomplishes this by being jarringly realistic (even the light-hearted and humorous moments appear like they do in real-life) and writing his tale in such a way where there’s a larger, interweaving narrative about brotherhood, bonds, forgiveness, jealousy, egotism, emotional stagnancy, coping with and addressing the past, spirituality, self-reflection, marriage and converging your ghosts and demons with that of your mate’s that all of the characters experience. Many films, regardless of being focused on an ensemble, take lessons and apply them to characters individually, but Lee’s group learns collectively and it’s beautiful to watch, as propelled with stellar performances. “Best Man Holiday” is entertaining, extremely well-written, heartfelt, visually gorgeous (everything is crisply glowing) and relatable to any audience. Go see it; don’t let the trailers mislead you. Shout-out to my girls for yanking me along.

By @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer

On October 21st, VH1 finally premiered the highly publicized and anticipated TLC biopic “CrazySexyCool: A TLC Story.” Being one of the biggest fans of the group there is, I was SO excited to hear about it. I know just about everything there is to know about each TLC member and their personal struggles, so the idea of seeing it play out in cinematic format had me on the edge of my seat…at least initially. 

There was much promise upon the beginning of the film, leading right before Tionne “T-Boz” Watkins and Lisa “Left-Eye” Lopes got discovered, signed and moved through the process of finding a new member (which ended up being Rozonda “Chilli” Thomas; more on that in a moment) and recording their 1st album. The 150 minute (including commercials) movie was great for those who didn’t know TLC’s back story and it gave a little insight on the climate of the music industry at that time. The performances from lead actresses Drew Sidora (T-Boz), Lil’ Mama (Left-Eye) and Keke Palmer (Chilli) were surprisingly good (with Lil’ Mama shining through as the best actress of the film), in addition to Rochelle Aytes, who portrayed the group’s 1st manager, Perri “Pebbles” Reid.

The movie was a great summary of the ladies’ perils and triumphs as one the best-selling female groups of all time, however, my qualm as a fan was the fact it was just that—a summary. Its brevity of their most successful album eras (i.e. “Crazy.Sexy.Cool” and “FanMail”) and over-magnification of somewhat interesting, yet trivial conflicts made the movie come off as a dramatized, cliff-notes version of “Behind the Music” (TLC’s “Behind the Music” debatably did more in 1 hour than this film did in 2 and 1/2 ). It ultimately left certain facts seem more elusive and not clarified, than express the whole truth for what it was.

Firstly, the movie was extremely biased. In Left-Eye’s absence, T-Boz and Chilli were the ones who constructed and pitched the TLC story to VH1 script-writers, and that, ironically, was probably more of a minus than a plus because aspects of their background were told from a limited perspective and presented as truth without further explanation. For example, the firing of Crystal Jones (the original “C” in TLC) was attributed in the film to her inability to sing/perform in front of L.A. Reid and Pebbles during an audition. However, according to Jones, the reality was since she was the original lead of the group (she called auditions to form a group to begin with), Pebbles privately presented her with the contract first and when Jones insisted on showing the contract to her mother for further review, Pebbles later encouraged T-Boz and Left-Eye to oust her. To put it in perspective, if Jones was such a poor performer, how did she get the chance to exclusively audition for her own group before introducing the group to Arista Records/Pebbletone? How did the group record demos under the name of 2nd Nature with producers like Jermaine Dupri if she was so terrible? Maybe T-Boz got the impression that Jones’ singing was to blame because that’s what she was told or maybe there was an instance where Jones bombed a performance. Jones’ story wasn’t the only one that fell prey to the limited perspective.