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.

Directed by Louis Leterrier, “Now You See Me” is a visually dazzling, absorbing, fun and exciting film that’s sure to entertain. “See” follows the intense police pursuit of three on-the-rise magicians and one fallen star who get summoned by an anonymous figure with an ulterior motive to pull off a series of stunts and heists. Sure, that plot may sound cheesy at face value, but the way the story is executed gives you “X-Men” meets “Takers,” with all the “can’t keep your eyes off” action and “let me figure this out” mystery. The film’s strongest facet is that, with the exception of a few spots, it is truly unpredictable and each feat is done plausibly, rarely defying logic. Most motion pictures have some, if not multiple clichés and a plot that foreshadows itself, but with “See,” it’s hard to guess where it’s going, which makes it thrilling and kind of unique. Adding onto the film’s inventiveness is how everything is completely centered on purpose of the caper, not a romance between characters or their jaded backgrounds. Receiving tepid reviews, most critics complained that the cast’s talents were wasted and there wasn’t much character development, but it just wasn’t necessary to get the point across. The writing gives you just enough to find the characters likable and see their dynamic; going any further would’ve distracted from the intoxicating narrative. To feed my contention, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the main characters aren’t “big names,” which I love. I only agree with the critics to the degree that I would’ve liked to know why the characters would easily follow the directions of a literal stranger and what they received as a result of their extensive efforts, but I'm hoping those details were left out because there are plans for a sequel. Other than that, I left the theater thinking the film was baller, I wish I knew magic and that the “Four Horsemen” (the magician’s moniker) really existed. I thoroughly enjoyed “Now You See Me;” it was definitely magical. Can’t wait to own it on DVD.

Grade: A-

By Eddie J., contributing writer
After watching Tyler Perry’s very underwhelming “Temptation” film, I was not only reminded as to why I don’t support him financially anymore, but was also disgruntled by the fact that I wasted my time to watch this sad attempt at a movie. The following is a mix between a movie review and a Tyler Perry critique/letter, so in case you’re wondering, I give the movie a D-. *Warning: This review contains spoilers*

Tyler Perry, I’m very confused about your lack of creativity and the mixed messages you are portraying to the black community in the disguise of a “moral message” and it’s getting annoying. It feels as if you think your audience is too dim to understand something deeper than a bible scripture and I honestly don’t understand why you won’t take a risk to make an exceptional movie. “Temptation,” for example, had me intrigued for the first hour because it could have gone several ways: The infidelity-embroiled main character, Judith (portrayed by Jurnee Smollett), could’ve remained happily in a secret affair, divorced her husband (Lance Gross) and married the new guy (because that does happen in the real world) or taught her husband the very qualities she wanted see and have a thriving marriage (because that happens in the real world also). Hell, she could’ve felt guilty and committed suicide after keeping the affair a secret for a few years and had a child, not knowing who the baby’s biological father was. But no…let’s just make the guy she cheats with a wicked villain, like you do in every movie about relationships. I’m SICK of the Tyler Perry formula.

Why is it that every guy a woman falls for in a Tyler Perry film has to be more than just an incompatible match? Why does he have to be a greedy, abusive, drug dealing, HIV positive, illegal gun selling, puppy killing, crack-head? No man is that horrible and for the rare ones who are, I don’t think they’re ever nearly as wealthy or handsome as the characters in these films. Some of you may say “Okay, whatever, it’s just a movie,” but to that I say most of his movies (and movies in general) are based in some reality or want to affect the way you perceive your reality. I’m over this part of the formula because it purposes there are only two types of guys out there. Also, it makes me feel like Perry is low key trying to convince us to stay comfortable, especially in this movie: “Yeah, these people are rich, but they are evil, so be happy you’re unemployed and living below the poverty line; at least you’re sanctified and will get into heaven after you die.” Yes, this was one of the major themes of the film and the “rich men can’t get into heaven” line was used by the archetypal overbearing Christian mother character (Ella Joyce), because yeah, it’s a Tyler Perry movie (then you realize that Perry is one of those “rich men,” but we won’t question that shade).

Quentin Tarantino is a popular director for a reason: he usually delivers. “Django Unchained” tells the story of a newly freed slave’s journey (Oscar winner Jamie Foxx) to find and rescue his wife (ABC “Scandal” star Kerry Washington who’s screen time is disappointingly short) after they’ve been purposely sold separately by their owner. The plot unfolds like a rollercoaster; it’s initially all very fascinating as highly unusual circumstances lead to Django’s freedom and he becomes a bounty hunter, but at the midpoint, things start to drag slightly and it doesn’t kick up again until the nail-biting end. The middle falls flat for two reasons: the length (some scenes are unnecessarily detailed) and the writing of Foxx’s encounter with Leonardo DiCaprio as Calvin Candie. Promotional trailers lead you to believe that Candie is an epic antagonistic firewall between Django and his lasy love, but Samuel L. Jackson’s character, Stephen, proves to be a more delicious villain. Another con: Tarantino is known for his over-the-top exaggerations of reality, but it’s hard to believe the level of sympathy and kindness to slaves of Django’s bounty-hunter partner, Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz). However, it would be hard for Django to be victorious in any way without a major help agent, not to mention Waltz’s performance is wonderfully endearing and entertaining. One of the best aspects of “Unchained” is the humor. Only Tarantino can manage to make a slavery-era film funny. The light-hearted parts off-set the darker ones, especially those provided by Don Johnson. I’m still not a fan of Tarantino’s love of graphic violence, but, all in all, “Django Unchained” is a fantastic film that will spark a lot of post-view discussion.