​Nick Nittoli is carving out his proverbial slice of the pie in Los Angeles as a rapper/singer. Garnering writing and production credits, he's been fortunate enough collaborate with Snoop Dogg, French Montana, and YG, among others. He's also battled it out with other emerging artists on the former Bravo reality series, "Platinum Hit." JSaysOnline.com had a brief chat with Nittoli about his work and what he has in store for listeners.
 
How would you describe your artistry?
 
NN: Pretty different than most. I switch genres on almost every track. I am primarily a hip-hop artist; however, I have released country and R&B albums. I also do pop, and will be adding other genres to my resume soon! I like to keep people on their toes to the point that they never know what to expect when turning on a Nick Nittoli song or album. So, I would describe my artistry as eclectic! 
 
What recording artists are your influences? How are you similar or different from them?
 
NN: I am heavily influenced by Michael Jackson, Eminem, 2Pac, Blink 182, Bush, Nofx, and various others. I think that my music causes social change, and because of that factor, it resembles Eminem and 2pac. I also think that because of how different my music is, it can resemble a lot of different artists all combined into one. I take a bit from all of my influences and kind of make my own thing with it. I think the thing that separates me from these artists is my willingness to experiment, truly dive into different genres, and make people think...keep them guessing as to what's coming next. 

Album Review.
Favorites: Brutal, 1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back, Deja Vu, Jealousy, Jealousy
Overall: Quintessential pop-rock that offers two inadvertent lessons about life stages and younger artists
 
I remember reading a review dismissing Destiny’s Child’s The Writing’s on the Wall (1999) for being 'teenagerish.' The members of the group were around 18 at the time. Critics applied similar adjectives to Taylor Swift’s early work, who was also a minor when her career started. One of the consistent hypocrisies of the music industry and its realm is regularly shelling out and fixating on adolescent talent, but then lambasting them for speaking from their point of view. Should the artists try to appear or sound more mature, they’ll be accused of being obnoxious, contrived, or inappropriate (this is especially true for girls and young women). Ageist perspectives would swear that these kinds of acts don’t bring much to the table. Moreover, the idealism and sensitivity they tend to have is often perceived as a melodramatic liability. In actuality, it can be an asset.
 
Young singer-songwriters frequently express themselves in an intensely visceral way that seasoned artists are sometimes too calculated to still possess. The best and brightest capture the emotional climate of their station with trenchant poignancy, relatability, and endearing tenderness. Freshly 18, Disney affiliate Olivia Rodrigo joins this fold with her debut, Sour.
 
There’s no shame in Rodrigo’s angst game, as she comes out swinging with the guitar slamming “Brutal.” It’s not even a full three minutes, but it aptly summarizes the common plagues of adolescence (and the early 20’s, haha). She sings of how anxiety, insecurity, stifling expectations, and not being accepted have robbed her of what’s typically deemed 'the golden years.' This is a central theme on the album, second to inaugural heartbreak that’s exacerbated by infidelity suspicions. With co-writers Daniel Nigro, Annie Clark, and Casey Smith, Rodrigo notes how romantic loss often comes with conflicting feelings. For instance, hits “Driver’s License” and “Good 4 U” communicate that abandonment triggers both sadness and fury. The latter sparks pleasant memories of Alanis Morisette’s ‘woman scorned’ anthem, “U Oughta Know,” haha. Across “Enough for You” and “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back,” she reckons with the unhealthy amount of self sacrifice and compromise she endured in her relationship. She sings of shape-shifting around the ever-changing moods and needs of her gaslighting lover, who never saw her as fit. Despite acknowledging the mistreatment, she still hopes she achieved a level of fondness and favor in her ex’s eyes (ex. “Happier”). To a degree, she canonizes the affair (ex. “Favorite Crime).
 
Earlier on the album with “Deja Vu,” she diminishes facets of the dynamic that were supposedly special. She suggests they were just wooing tactics her former beau would take to any woman. Sidebar: I enjoy songs that address the rebarbative human tendency to ‘copy and paste’ with relationships. Folks will post like crazy about 'the love of their life' on social media as if they didn’t do that months ago with another person, but I majorly digress, haha. Rodrigo closing her saga with cuts like “Happier” and “Favorite Crime,” infer a regression in mindset. Perhaps this is commentary on the hold of manipulative mates, or the mental seesaw in the aftermath of a split.
 
“Hope Ur Ok” is the only number to separate from Sour’s narratives, being about old [presumably LGBT] friends who she wishes is surviving and thriving in the face of bigotry.

Album Review & Commentary.
Overall: Slinky R&B rhythms work to cover up questionable messaging and poor content quality.
 
Ariana Grande’s last two albums, Sweetener and Thank U, Next, came on the heels of personal hardships for the singer. Apple Music noted this in a summary for the newest Positions (Deluxe) stating that the release is “lighthearted and playful” in comparison. Evidently, the assigned reviewer wasn’t paying close attention. Underneath an attractive sound is an LP that is bleak artistically and in its messaging.
 
Historically, the lyrical offerings on Grande’s projects aren’t very adroit. They are generally passable at best. However, if there’s been any improvement, Positions is grossly regressive. The content has little to no intellectual or emotional worth; it doesn’t come off like it’s been crafted by highly paid songwriters who are in touch with their feelings. Scribing alongside Grande is Tommy Brown, Victoria Monet, Tayla Parx, and others. The vocabulary is narrow, and apparently, it’s a requirement to have an onslaught of unnecessary expletives. Metaphors and analogies are facile, with no attempt to be particularly clever, funny, insightful, and/or poetic. Sometimes the material is convoluted, mashing different topics together without transitions or connectors. Themes of passion, desire, and romantic trepidation are expressed in an insufferably juvenile way. The voicing is like that of an 18-year-old who thinks they’re so wise and cultivated because they’ve been dating someone for a year and are sexually active. “Six Thirty” plays like the aftermath of a teen pairing’s squabble. “What you gonna do when I’m bored and wanna play video games at 2AM?” is a measuring inquiry. “My Hair” is literally about toying with her tresses. It’s used as a manifestation of intimacy. Lunacy.
 
While Positions isn’t totally without a story direction, it’s so-called ‘happy ending’ and resolve is contradictory and questionable. Listeners are taken through the process of leaving a relationship hurt, and then falling for someone new. There are claims of having self awareness and clarity (ex. “Magic,” “Motive,” “Love Language”), but immature and unhealthy approaches are enacted and/or continued. Despite Grande (or the record’s protagonist) admitting that she hasn’t healed from previous experiences, she presses on with her amorous endeavors (ex. “Off the Table”). The headiness of infatuation and satisfying sex feed immediate thoughts of ‘ever after.’ It’s love at first sight and screw (ex. “Nasty,” “Obvious”).

Ideal love is defined by being the instant remedy to all of each other’s problems and wounds. In the least, provide a long-term ‘feel good’ distraction. Basically, avoiding the responsibility of inner work and giving your prospective partner a job only therapists can perform. The insecurity and codependency that comes with this type of cycle is patent. There’s an abundance of lines where Grande’s ‘auditioning,’ as I call it. She’s eager to demonstrate that she can conform to and meet the needs of her lover, and is the model mate (ex. “Positions,” “West Side”). All of the aforementioned matters culminate in “POV,” which is the closer on the standard edition of the album. Grande sings about having such a lack of self trust and esteem, that she has to rely on the worshipping regard of her significant other to feel valuable. The track is supposed to be sweet and point to a positive conclusion, but really, it’s kind of dismal and sad. To quote RuPaul, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else; can I get an ‘Amen’?”

​Album Review.
Favorites: So Bad, Gold
Overall: A seductive musical narrative that's actually R&B, and not diet hip-hop.
 
The amount of unsung and/or underrated music acts is so innumerable, there’s a whole television series dedicated to profiling them. If an artist doesn’t have a proper time in the sun, it’s usually for one of three causes. One, they sabotaged themselves. Two, their professional team stifled them, or three, audiences were indifferent toward them for some reason. For Joanna “JoJo” Levesque, it was option two.
 
If you’re not already familiar, JoJo rose to fame at age 13, being known as “the little white girl with a big, soulful voice.” She was steered into the pop market, and hits like “Leave (Get Out)” and “Too Little, Too Late” helped her become the youngest solo act to top the Billboard Hot 100. The attention lead to film opportunities, which her recording label reportedly wasn’t thrilled about. This was just the beginning of her troubles with Blackground Records. As the company folded, JoJo found herself locked into a contract and unable to release material. A decade would pass before she could let anything out commercially, losing critical years. Aside from die-hard fans, listeners who knew her had the impression she left the industry. Fresh ones couldn’t discover her because her work wasn’t available on streaming platforms (she re-recorded songs to get around this). She eventually signed with Atlantic Records, but her time with them was brief, as she desired more "ownership." After developing her own imprint, Clover Music, she ultimately took her business to Warner.
 
Promotional single “Joanna” arrived with a visual in October 2019. In it, JoJo sings from the perspective of critics and disgruntled long-term fans. People bum rush past her, trying to get to a glitzy star in a limo. She concludes with “You were supposed to be somebody, you were supposed to make more money, make us proud...nobody likes you in Massachusetts, you should just hurry and drop your new shit,” wearing a sly grin. She was putting followers on notice that she wasn’t giving up and she’d be making her third major attempt at standing in the sun.
 
JoJo’s stepped out with Good to Know (stylized as good to know), which chronicles her seesaw between maladaptive coping behaviors and those that are constructive. She and the production team did an excellent job personifying the misleading and insidious lure of vices. Lido, Doc McKinney, Noise Club, and others gave sound to self-destruction masked with pleasure and hedonism from moment one. Opener “So Bad” has seductive, yet equally ominous energy. On the infidelity tune, a muffled fluttering piano rises to a dramatic radiating bass, layered with yowling synths and womanly moans. JoJo herself convincingly plays two parts. In the chorus, she's a confident mistress who’s thrilled by hiding in plain sight. In the verses, she emits desperation and insatiability. She pleads for more attention, and is adamant she’s the best option for her pursuit. 

​Album Review.
Favorites: Kissing Other People, Older Than I Am, Since I Was a Kid, Goodnight
Overall: An endearing debut; full-hearted lyrics and vocal are supported with ambient alt-pop production.
 
Before the FOX network premiered Empire, ABC had a similar country incarnation called Nashville. It had better writing and music, but I digress. The cast included two charming youth actresses who were sisters in real life: Lennon and Maisy Stella. I was enchanted by their beauteous harmonies, and impressed with their level of talent, stage presence, and emotionality. It was a pleasure watching them continue to develop as performers over the show’s six year run (the last two seasons were on CMT). Needless to say, I was excited when Lennon (the older Stella) announced that she’d be releasing material.
 
The succinct Love, Me EP arrived in November 2018; about four months after Nashville wrapped. While it was a departure from the acoustic-guitar heavy country-folk Stella did on the television drama, the pathos was retained. Infectious alt-pop with a melancholic underbelly is what she evidently sought to create. Love, Me’s full-length follow up, Three. Two. One. was titled to note a countdown to her complete artistic unveiling. “This is me releasing myself from the pressure of prior expectations...three, two, one, I’m diving in...” she explained to Apple Music.
 
Three. Two. One. definitely expands Love Me’s view, being more experimental and a deeper plunge into a crestfallen abyss. Lennon’s lyrics tell the tale of a young woman (she’s 20) trying to prevent being broken by life’s first waves of hardships and heartaches. It details a struggle to maintain innocence and hope, and use the best of limited wisdom. Words about sadistic relationships (ex. “Games”), growing pains (ex. “Since I Was a Kid”), and familial fractures and bonds (ex. "Weakness (Huey Lewis)") are lifted off the page by her wistful vocal performance. Her natural rasp and wispiness contribute to her affect, rather than restrict it (which is the case for many artists with similar tones). When she leans into a smoother slide, there’s a lusciousness you wouldn’t mind hearing more of though (ex. “Goodnight”). The way she captures the fragility and vulnerability of this stage of aging is a testament to how in tune she is with her feelings and expression. Some of those co-writing with Stella are Caroline Ailin, Simon Wilcox, Phamous, and Ruslan Odnoralov of the band Everfound. Only two songs are without Stella’s penmanship.

​Album Review.
Overall: Not a promising sign that depth and variation in subject matter and musical style is on the way.
 
Burgeoning artists wait with bated breath for their 'breakout' year, and that was 2019 for Houston rapper Megan Thee Stallion. People were taken with the tenacious confidence that fueled her fiery, unabashedly sexual, and often amusing rhymes. She especially found favor with some for talking about men in the same dismissive manner women are discussed in hip-hop/rap. Her energy is intriguingly equal parts commanding and congenial, drawing listeners further in. Her likability factor is the kind that easily spurs viral hashtags and challenges on social media (ex. #HotGirlSummer and the current #SavageChallenge).
 
That isn’t to say her metal doesn’t need polishing though. Some followers desired to hear vulnerability; a request Megan repeatedly vowed to fulfill with her upcoming debut album (as of now, there are only mixtapes and EPs). A creative weakness that I’ve observed is topical and musical redundancy. There’s a lot riding on a first LP for any artist, much less one with a preliminary mainstream fan-base that has expectations.
 
To hold eager and inquiring minds over, Megan released Suga, yet another EP. It’s also a presumed retort against 1501 Certified Entertainment, a label she’s in a dispute with. It consists of songs she recorded while working on the album. It’s named after one of her three ‘alter-egos.’ On wax, there’s no discernible difference between the ‘personalities.’ This makes the mention of them useless and annoying, but that’s a rant for another day.
 
If the Suga EP is an appetizer, the main course of a full length project may only be mildly satisfying. Lyrically, Megan mostly sticks to what’s made her popular so far. She tries to respond to pleas for depth and content diversity, but just goes slightly beneath the surface. You get the sense that she’s not totally comfortable with it yet. The unconvincing and awkward “What I Need” is proof of that. It’s no wonder it was shoved to the end of the tracklist, as it contradicts Megan’s detached attitude about romantic relationships on previous songs. Further, it’s conceding and self-deprecating. She begs for the forgiveness of a love interest, and frames herself as erratic and emotionally unstable.

Album Review.
Overall: 'Run of the mill' contemporary album; Bieber's hiatus didn't cultivate artistic growth
 
Justin Bieber’s released his first full-length album in almost five years, and called it Changes. Between the time gap and title, one might expect thoughtful lyrics and indications of artistic growth. Perhaps something stylistically different or musically experimental would be in store. Not for Bieber. For him, it’s business as usual.
 
All is more or less the same in every area. To start with the subject matter, it treks the familiar path of eager lust and love. Any mentions of life transitions are vague or spurious. For instance, he professes “...I'm going through changes; don’t mean that I'll change” on the namesake track, but there’s no clarity on what adjustments he’s experiencing. Further, how they’re impeding his efforts  to be the “best” he can for his partner.
 
On the opening “All Around Me,” he sings the following about a mate: “Never thought I could ever be loyal to someone other than myself, I never thought I could ever be a spoiler, guess anything is possible with your help, anything’s possible since you made my heart melt.” These lines are supposed to be romantic and demonstrate his personal development, but they do the opposite. Instead of taking responsibility for his lack of integrity in previous relationships, he insinuates the cause of his behavior was a woman failing to be 'the right one'. This is obnoxious, and certainly doesn’t signify maturation.
 
The conceptual issues aside, a few numbers are written on an intermediate level. Others are more on the juvenile side (ex. “Intentions”). Several of Bieber’s co-scribes also have production credits, including The Audibles team, HARV, Joshua Gudwin, and Sasha Sirota. His go-to guy, Jason “Poo Bear” Boyd, leads.
 
The rhythms of contemporary R&B/hip hop rule the album. The latter 30% shoots for sentimentality with plenty of acoustic guitars and sappy content. Both portions suffer from repetition. While a handful of cuts are moderately appetizing, there’s too much similarity between them. Additionally, there’s little musicality. The instrumentation and arrangements are sparing. All this causes the record to feel lengthy, when it’s only 51 minutes.
 
Vocally, it seems Bieber hasn’t continued to perfect his skills. You can’t hear any enrichment, and his falsetto sounds weak. His performance on the LP is without character and emotion.
 
The deficiencies of Changes make it 'run of the mill'. Coming from a popular act after half a decade, shouldn't it be more than that?

Album Review.
Likes: Lose You to Love Me, Crowded Room, Cut You Off
Overall: More authentic than Revival. Solid lyrical content. A minimalist musical approach done right.
 
Selena Gomez declared a Revival four years ago with her last album, but it was premature. The material denoted someone in the thickety-thick-thick of despondency, rather than on the other side of it. Its coarse language and sexual themes were so contrived, it was evident Gomez was still grasping her identity and womanhood.
 
The new Rare more authentically presents Gomez as self-aware and revivified. Conceptually, it’s a cautionary tale about the hazards of unhealthy interpersonal relationships (ex. “Lose You to Love Me”) and forgetting your worth (ex. The title track). It also candidly relays that recovering and learning from past experiences is as complex as having them in the first place. Among the challenges are facing individual accountability (ex. “Look at Her Now”), disenchantment (ex. “People You Know”), trying to maintain emotional availability (ex. “Vulnerable”), and relapsing into bad habits and patterns (ex. “Fun”). Ordinarily, these subjects would be discussed in an impassive, detached, unimaginative, crude and/or tasteless way. 'Vapid and vulgar' is the standard for much of today’s popular music. Apparently, Gomez and her co-writers understood that true commitment to their narrative meant actually being creative and impassioned. The list of lyricists include Julia Michaels, Justin Tranter (both worked on Revival), Bebe Rexha, Nolan Lambroza, Caroline Ailin, Chloe Angelides and Scott Harris Friedman. Despite there being over 30 contributors in total, Rare’s content is very cohesive. Femme fatale tune “Ring” is the only song that seems off-topic.
 
The musical approach is also consistent, though there are far fewer producers than songwriters. Teams Mattman & Robin and The Monsters were on the boards, along with Sir Nolan, Simon Says, Bart Schoudel, Ben Rice, Alex Hope and several others. Minimalism with tracks, arrangements, and the like is one way to exude sensitivity and spotlight vocals, but it’s not foolproof. Possible consequences are being unattractive, boring or rudimentary. Gomez’s team avoided these downfalls by building ambiance and referencing various genres outside of pop.
 
What the layers of instruments and effects lacked in number, they made up for in presence. The resounding quality allows for focused listening, where you can clearly hear every item and word. There’s a sonic intimacy, reminiscent of a live acoustic set in close quarters. This, with all the deep-tones and style variations, creates drama and holds attention. Synths—pianos, guitars and bass—dominate. “Let Me Get Me” stands out with its suggestions of Latin. “Kinda Crazy” is kinda funky, with its groovy guitars and jazzy horns. “Crowded Room” phones R&B, and “Cut You Off” sings the blues in its breakdown. “Cut’s” deliberate irony in having a cozy feel with ‘kiss off’ lyrics is amusing. I so enjoy songs like that; it’s why I fell in love with Beyoncé’s “Irreplaceable.” This foursome of tracks is in the latter half of the LP. There, fans will find a heavier dose of what they’re used to hearing from Gomez: catchy and flirtatious ditties.
 
Vocally, there are no changes to report. Gomez’s finite and breathy pipes shine most on smoky cuts like “Crazy.”
 
Sexy, heart-tugging and well-executed, Rare has you wanting to know more about Selena Gomez’s professed ‘rise from the ashes.’ It's also not a bad musical start to 2020.

​When you think of Halloween media iconicism, John Carpenter's 1978 namesake film starring Jamie Lee Curtis will likely come to mind (the latest major installment of the franchise was released in 2018). Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Child's Play and Scream would probably follow. Children's movies for the holiday are rarely stamped as classics because they aren't bone-chilling enough. Moreover, they often struggle to be more than a piece of nostalgia as their first viewers age. Disney's Hocus Pocus is an exception. A comedy about three minors conquering resurrected sister-witches from the 1600's, it's religiously played on television from September through November. Fans have clamored for a sequel for years, and every milestone anniversary is abundantly celebrated. Costume shops have entire sections dedicated to the film. Nothing speaks to its cross-generational power like a product-line that includes toys and teen costumes, as well as shot glasses and home-ware.
 
The joke is on screen critics from 1993, who lambasted Hocus Pocus and predicted it was doomed for obscurity. They were too busy being their usual fault-finding and cantankerous selves, they missed what would make it eternally bewitching. Senselessly looking at a youth movie through an adult lens, they made a bevy of irrational complaints and observations. For instance, some said it was "too silly;" there's no such thing as that with kids. Others would accuse it of being perverse, revealing their own warped mindsets. One reviewer supposed that the dainty way witch Sarah Sanderson (Sarah Jessica Parker) laid on her broomstick was sexually suggestive (I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I typed that sentence). Parker and the then teenage Vinessa Shaw (who portrayed Allison Watts) were the primary targets of venereal comments, but more on that problematic and unsettling aspect later. Assessments more grounded in logic deemed the film unorganized and conflicted for its contrasting comedic styles and character setups. Its variation enabled it to engage a wide audience though, which is the source of its longevity.  
 
With Hocus Pocus' humor and concepts, many writers took issue with the macabre and mature surrounding lighter fare. Slapstick hijinks and G-rated giggles were alongside moderately sophisticated sarcasm, locker-room references to women's breasts and repeat mentions of virginity. A touching moral about cherishing and protecting your siblings (to the extent of self-sacrifice) is the B-plot to witches stealing children's souls to live forever. Within the first 30 minutes (or less) alone, one child is lured away with a spellbinding lullaby and murdered, another is turned into an immortal cat, and the witches are hung (with a promise to return of course). We see the nooses around their necks, and then a cut to their dangling feet. Nothing too serious, haha.
 
What seemed like terrible, irresponsible and chaotic storytelling to the critics was actually pretty strategic and intentional...and ultimately effective. 
​
Oil of Boil, and a Dead Man's Toe (The Method to the Madness)
 
The Hocus Pocus crew explained the method to their madness in commemorative interviews with the Freeform channel last year. Writer and producer David Kirschner developed the plot with Mick Garris, seeking to break open the market for family movies in the adult-centric Halloween genre. 'House of Mouse' ideology was their compass. "Disney used to say you had to have darkness to have light. The film embraced that," soundtrack composer and long-time Disney collaborator John Debney detailed. Garris described his screenplay (co-authored by Neil Cuthbert) as "dark" and "scarier" than the end result. Moves to brighten and balance the work included making zombie Billy Butcherson (Doug Jones) "one you could date," instead of be frightened of. Choreographer and director Kenny Ortega was recruited to ensure the illuminations translated on tape. "It was a spooky comedy for sure, but it became much more fun than I had ever envisioned, and that's Kenny. He just brought a joy to it," Kirschner reminisced. 

​Warning: This review contains SPOILERS.
 
Film remakes already have plenty to live up to without having to make up for the shortcomings of a previous reboot. Knowing this didn’t keep me from expecting more from Disney’s live-action version of The Lion King, after their endeavor with Aladdin let me down though. The Guy Ritchie-directed Aladdin offered an empowered Princess Jasmine, but other changes and missed CGI (computer generated imagery) opportunities left me feeling annoyed and discontent (you can read my full review here). The Lion King had the added task of setting things right.
 
In the (unlikely) event that you have no idea what The Lion King (1994) is about, it’s kind of a coming of age tale with lots of anecdotes about life stages and how we’re all connected (so, imagine a child-appropriate NBC’s This is Us). Cub Simba (JD McCrary) is the heir to his father Mufasa’s (James Earl Jones; I'm so glad he was able to do the project, no one else would be right) throne, and his disgruntled uncle Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is far from thrilled. Scar concocts a murderous plot with exiled hyenas, so he can rise to power. Simba narrowly escapes, but it’s assumed he’ll die in the wilderness. Meerkat Timon (Billy Eichner) and warthog Pumbaa (Seth Rogen) care for him until adulthood. Simba’s old friend (and eventual spouse) Nala (Beyoncé) crosses his path and relays how Scar ravaged the kingdom of natural resources. Simba (then voiced by Donald Glover) is resistant to the idea of returning home, and feels responsible for Mufasa’s death. Various happenings lead to an identity wake up call for him, and he ultimately challenges Scar’s rule.
 
Director Jon Favreau’s 2019 The Lion King (screenplay by Jeff Nathanson) is mostly faithful to its root text. Many revisions have a clear objective and/or magnify story elements. If there was going to be any similarity to Ritchie’s Aladdin, it could be with strengthening the presence of female leads. Nathanson gives Nala a more nuanced and empowering arc. We see her develop and hash out a grudge with principal hyena Shenzi (Florence Kasumba), and ascend to primacy among the lionesses. She tries to respect the elders in the pack, but becomes impatient with their docility with Scar. She arouses them to fiercely take back their land. Beyoncé does surprisingly well blending in with the rest of the voice cast (Shahadi Wright Joseph portrays young Nala). I’ll admit I doubted her ability to do this, considering her distinctly deep and American Southern accent. There are times where you can tell she’s being careful with her enunciation, but it isn’t distracting.
 
Scar and Shenzi were given extra shading. 1994’s Scar is venomous, but his haughtiness and facetiousness put an attracting glimmer around his shadows. In 2019, he’s reserved, less saucy and his quips are bitter jabs, as opposed to humorous. Ejiofor brings Scar’s acidity and boiling resentment to the surface with his breathy and distressed delivery. Unreciprocated affections are tacked on to the list of things Scar is peeved about, as an infatuation with Mufasa’s wife Sarabi (Alfre Woodard) is intriguingly included. Previously, Shenzi was ill-intentioned, but too uproarious (as only Whoopi Goldberg, who was behind the mic then, can be) to hate. Her update is decidedly diabolical, and no matter is a laughing one. What prevents these character modifications from being a total buzz kill is their apparent purpose. Scar and Shenzi (and her troupe) are unmistakably ominous and scary. The hyenas are convincing as a threat, whereas before, you couldn’t take them seriously. This effect is why you might tolerate Scar’s divo snobbery and some of the hyena banter going missing.