15 years ago this month, Focus Features released Deliver Us from Eva, a film about 3 guys who try to wrangle their overbearing sister-in-law (Gabrielle Union). It was funny, entertaining, and had a bomb R&B soundtrack. Union was spectacularly brilliant in the title role. Her quirky facial expressions, bodily twitches and pronounced delivery of the rapid-fire script brought the eccentric and hyper-intelligent Evangeline Dandridge to life. Eva is a no-nonsense natural born leader. She cut her teeth at this raising her younger sisters: Kareenah (Essence Atkins), Bethany (Robinne Lee) and Jacqui (Meagan Good). They all became orphans years prior. To stay afloat and start "The Dandridge Fund," Eva dropped her horse-training dreams for more practical work as a restaurant health inspector. Her siblings naturally look up to her, but they extensively hang on her every word. This is to the exasperation of their respective mates, who feel her opinions and advice block their personal desires. Kareenah's husband, Tim (Mel Jackson), has baby fever. Bethany's boyfriend, Mike (Duane Martin), wants to move in and get his hands on the fund. Jacqui's spouse, Darrell (Dartanyan Edmonds), isn't happy she spends so much time on her college studies. The men resolve to pay someone to sweep Eva off her feet. That someone is Ray (LL Cool J), a rolling-stone playboy. His fee? $5,000. His task is "not just to distract her, but make her fall hard," and get her to relocate with him. Then, he can dump her. When he ends up liking her and she passes on an out-of-state job promotion, the fellas stage his death. Ray exposes the entire scam and chases Eva until she forgives him.
 
I saw this movie for the first time at a teenage slumber party. It had just come out on DVD. I was the only girl who actually had admiration for Eva, and thought the four horsemen didn't deserve forgiveness. I always joke I came out of the womb a feminist. I say this because, from a young age, I'd detect ridiculous biases. I'd question 'default' attitudes, standards and archetypes. In the very least, some situations--like parts of this film's plot--just didn't sit well with me. Eva wasn't homicidal, deceitful or malicious, but she was 'evil' the males needed 'deliverance' from. If any of the characters were guilty of these things (minus homicide), it was the guys, but she was villainized over them. There's something really wrong with that, especially when one takes a closer look at what allegedly made her so bad.
 
Eva is purportedly so traumatizing to deal with, an ex developed a speech impediment. Said ex freaks out upon seeing her picture, and repetitively screams "B*tch!" in an open bar. A flashback to their last encounter shows her dismissing him for complaining she was uptight and then lying about it. Oh, the horror! The horror! How 'bitchy' of her. *Rolls eyes* What puts Eva at the top of her field is her precision, but she's constantly criticized for it by others. When she doesn't budge on an inspection citation, she's told she has an ice pump in her chest and is "so damn uncompromising." Later, on her first date with Ray, she repeatedly has to ask him to leave a restaurant with a faulty manager. He further diminishes her concerns and career by accusing her of overreacting and snarkily saying "You're not the FBI." She responds accordingly, but is described as "nasty" and as having an "electric fence with rabid pit-bulls" around her heart.

​I have to admit that when I saw Proud Mary recently, it wasn't because I was pressed to see it. I was more excited about trying the menu at the new local dine-in theater. Come to think of it, I really gambled with my dollars; both the feature and the food could've been horrible. My meal was just okay (not that you care), but the film was better than I expected. The trailers made it seem like there wasn't much to the plot: A single mother named Mary (Taraji P. Henson) prepares to retire from being an assassin. I thought "Stuff will blow up, her last hit job will be particularly difficult, her son will briefly be in danger, and all will end well because she's just Mary." The short 88-minute runtime fed my assumptions. You know what they say about making assumptions, though...
 
With the exception of the awesome action sequences and Mary's change of vocation, I was mostly wrong about the storyline. For starters, Jahi Di'Allo Winston's character Danny is not her son. How she ends up in his orbit is the film's biggest twist, and its unanticipated (though, parts of their initial interaction are written clumsily). Her personal history and collaborative relationships are also a bit more complex than imagined. Alongside her are Benny (Danny Glover) and Tom (Billy Brown), who tread the line between 'ally' and 'enemy.' As usual, Glover brings his master-class skills, easily alternating between the two modes. In this role, he's most delicious when Benny is feeling nefarious. Fans who are used to watching Brown play the harmed good-guy on ABC's How to Get Away with Murder will have fun seeing a different side of the actor. As for Henson, she's as reliable and proficient as always.
 
The 70's style promotional artwork and music made me worry I was in for a campy, new-age take on black exploitation movies. Thankfully, the only calls to that were a black woman kicking butt and a vintage soundtrack that included the Temptations and, of course, Tina Turner. Turner's signature cover of "Proud Mary" was effectively used at the thrilling climax, and into the credits. It was a blast hearing the audience sing along and hair flip in unison.
 
Babak Najafi's Proud Mary is indeed compact, but it doesn't feel stuffy or rushed. The tangled webs, sturdy performances and cool stunts make it a good 88 minutes. It's not the total throwaway it appears to be. 

WARNING: This review contains SPOILERS.
 
Overall: The storytelling is a bit rushed, but it's an entertaining and uplifting "celebration of humanity"

If you haven't heard already, Michael Gracey's The Greatest Showman is very loosely based on the life of P.T. Barnum, the legendary circus ringleader. Looking at the film's inspirational themes, and the vast liberties taken with the facts, it's clear making another biopic wasn't the intent. Instead, screenwriters Bill Condon and Jenny Bicks use the symbolism of Barnum to remind us to dream, show benevolence and focus on what matters.
 
We watch Gracey's Barnum from his youth as a misfit (Ellis Rubin). He copes with the bleakness of his poverty-stricken life with imagination, charm and humor. He hopes to one day show up his elitist naysayers by wowing and entertaining the world. When of age (Hugh Jackman), he marries his childhood sweetheart (Skylar Dunn; later Michelle Williams), who happily leaves her lap of luxury to be with him. "Barnum's Circus" is eventually launched, piquing both interest and protest for making stars out of outcasts. The lineup consists of performers exiled for their physical appearance. To appeal to the upper-class, P.T. recruits a more traditional act: a glamorous singer named Jenny Lind (Rebecca Ferguson). He also enlists the help of a wealthy playwright, Phillip Carlyle (Zac Efron). Phillip's budding romance with Anne Wheeler (Zendaya), a black trapeze artist, tests them both in different ways. Things also get sticky between P.T., his wife and Jenny. It all comes to a head as his obsession with raising the show's profile gets the best of him, and the performers are attacked.
 
As with any proper musical, the songs strike the emotional chords of the story and sharpen its tones. Holding the defiant and aspirational spirit of the characters, each track is stirring. So much so, you'll forget you're watching a movie and will clap by reflex at the end of numbers. This is particularly true with "Never Enough" and the outsider anthem "This Is Me," beautifully led by 'bearded lady' Keala Settle. "Never Enough" marks a 'make or break' instance for P.T. He's hired Jenny by word-of-mouth alone, and has promised awe to cynical crowds with her debut. I myself was prepared to be unimpressed. I thought "I'll accept this for the pivotal scene it's supposed to be, no matter how unremarkable it is." My breath was taken away right with the fictional audience. Recall the first time you heard Adele's "Someone Like You," Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On," Whitney Houston's cover of "I Will Always Love You" or Mariah Carey's "Vision of Love." Those kinds of memories will flash before you. Perfect diva science was smartly applied to create the desired effect. You know the formula: sweet lyrics, stunning vocals and 'just right' structuring to where the song escalates, but never crushes its own tenderness. The chops were provided by Loren Allred, who appeared on season 3 of NBC's The Voice (it's awkwardly noticeable that Ferguson is lip-synching). I think it's unfortunate (and a little strange) that a dual actress/singer wasn't cast as Jenny. This way, the architect of such an wonderful moment was left out of the party.

Note from J.Says: This is just for giggles; don't give yourself a wedgie.
 
20 years ago this month, James Cameron's Titanic sailed into theaters, and boy, did it live up to its name. Everything about it was mammoth-sized. The extensive research, underwater expeditions and top-of-the-line graphics required to make the film created a budget of $200 million; the highest of its age. That was chump change compared to its history-making box office numbers of over a billion. Talk about a return on an investment. This record went unmatched for 13 years, until Cameron decided to outdo himself with 2010's Avatar. Titanic is still tied with Ben-Hur (1959) for the most Oscar wins, with 11 trophies. Though 93% of the soundtrack is orchestral score, it's one of the best-selling albums of all-time. Its lone pop tune, a little ditty by Celine Dion called "My Heart Will Go On," was likely responsible for that. Gorgeously arranged, written and performed to capture the movie's essence, it's no wonder it was immensely popular. Ironically, the popularity (and subsequent overplay) is why it's arguably lost its luster. The last thing anyone thinks about when they hear it now is its quality, but I digress. Titanic also made global celebrities out of its leads, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. Their portrayals of star-crossed lovers Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt Bukater were so convincing, people "ship" them to this day. With Tumblr pages, fan-fiction forums and faux sequel trailers galore, the film's pop-culture iconicism is ever apparent.
 
You know the story: 17-year-old Rose is forced into an arranged engagement with the domineering (and much older) Caledon "Cal" Hockley (Billy Zane), to save her family from impending squalor. They're set to be married following their voyage on the Titanic. Rose quickly falls in love with Jack after he talks her out of committing suicide. He's a destitute sketch-artist, but he offers her fun and freedom from upper-class trappings. Just when she's decided to run away with him at ship dock, Titanic strikes an iceberg and begins to sink. The pair end up in frigid waters, and of course, Jack dies from hypothermia. It's all very sad, haha. Beforehand, Jack makes Rose vow to survive. She goes on to have a life of adventure. Amid all the distress and peril surrounding Rose, you root for her and want to see her win. However, there's something about her that most fans won't admit: she's kind of a butthole. Don't @ me or accuse me of heresy; you know I ain't lyin'. Even Jack clocked it: "Rose, you're no picnic, alright? You're a spoiled little brat..."
 
Don't worry, owning the truth won't taint your love. The Little Mermaid was a brat too, and an idiot for selling her voice for a prince she didn't know, but Ariel's still my girl. Simba was a disobedient chump, but he's still The Lion King. Plus, it's been 20 years; I think it's safe to be honest now. In case you're in denial, here's a list of reasons why *Andre 3000 voice* "Roses really smell like poo-ooh-ooh-ooh!:"
 
She Was Unnecessarily Rude as Hell
Throughout the movie, Rose makes snarky and rude remarks that are uncalled for. The most boorish of which was during a lunch with ship executives J. Bruce Ismay (Jonathan Hyde) and Thomas Andrews (Victor Garber). To Rose's irritation, her mother (Ruth; played by Frances Fisher) and Cal and were micromanaging her at the table. Instead of letting them have it, she takes her annoyance out on Ismay. When he brags about Titanic's grandiosity, she quips: "Do you know of Dr. Freud?... His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you." Psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud was known for his sexuality-based theories, including those regarding penis size. Rose basically implied that Ismay had a tiny pecker. Why did she have to humiliate him like that in front of everyone? What did he ever do to her? Sure, he had is part in the sinking, but she didn't know that.

Album Review.
Likes: I Did Something Bad, Don't Blame Me, Dancing with Our Hands Tied, New Years Day
Dislikes: King of My Heart
Overall: A major stylistic departure, but still unequivocally Taylor.
 
When Taylor Swift declared that the "Old Taylor" was dead on the recent single "Look What You Made Me Do"), some feared an unwelcome change in sound was near. Swift's plain vocals and lovesick, acoustic-guitar laden country and pop made her a poster child for delightfully white-bread music. That noted, the darker, harder and dare I say it, R&B and hip-hop-influenced rhythms on the new Reputation are indeed a deviation. However, the project's careful conceptualization offsets the awkwardness that normally comes with jolting conversions.
 
Somewhere in the last 11 years, Swift went from being portrayed in the media as "America's Sweetheart" to "Regina George:" an untrustworthy, serial-dating Mean Girl. She tried to "Shake it Off" and scoff at this on her previous record, 1989, but her irritation has boiled to anger. She's officially had enough and is ready to war with it. She attacks her stigmas with a cocky, "bring it on" ferocity and mocks them by casually wearing her alleged persona. Take "I Did Something Bad:" after depicting herself as a cavalier player and romantic vengeance angel, she sings "They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one. They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons...Go ahead and light me up." Songs like "Delicate" and "Call it What You Want" show she isn't completely impervious, as she discloses her insecurities and fears regarding her public image and its ability to affect potential relationships. Moreover, she expresses her displeasure in becoming colder and more distant as a defense mechanism, following betrayals and fallouts (ex. "This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things"). Still, there's a tenor of defiance in the lyrics that's upheld by the forwardness in Swift's voice and the production's gristle. Deep thumps, throbs and rattles are a constant, even when besotted love (Swift's specialty) is the subject (ex. "King of My Heart," "Dress"). They're put up against synth warps, gunshot-like blasts, vocal echoes and whimsy to create a sinister feel. "Look's" light introduction is akin to a music-box before it twists into a predatory hunt soundtrack. Spontaneous switches in melody and beat from mashing to feathery are where "Old Taylor" rears her head (ex. "...Ready for It," "Dancing with Our Hands Tied"). Closing track "New Years Day" is the only time she's allowed to do more than just swoop in briefly. 1989 producers and songwriters Max Martin, Jack Antonoff and Shellback all returned to co-collaborate with Swift. At moments, the writing is a pinch "garden-variety" and some metaphors are repeated without apparent cause, but the dedication to the album's theme mostly sweeps this under the rug.
 
Listeners who were hankering for Swift to wholly depart from country, folk, and the like will adore Reputation. Pop fans who appreciated the tenderness brought in by country and folk's touch will perhaps prefer 1989. Regardless, there shouldn't be many complaints or claims that Taylor is unrecognizable on this record. The creative choices she made served to bring her point-of-view and emotions center-stage, and that's her M.O.

​Album Review.
Likes: Would You Call That Love, I Don't Think About You
Dislikes: Whole Lotta Woman
Overall: Not the soul album it's promoted to be; vocal prowess is unevenly the focus
 
I've gotten to where I don't want to hear or read promotional interviews for upcoming albums, because it's so exasperating when the end product doesn't match the anticipation-triggering descriptions. Last summer, Kelly Clarkson announced that she inked a deal with Atlantic Records after her American Idol contract with RCA was alas fulfilled. Ever frank about her creative battles with her former label, she described the partnership as an "arranged marriage" and her 14-year-old discography as "suppressed." She gushed that she'd finally be able to do a project she and her fans have always wanted: a soul-spun record. I was elated, to say the least. Clarkson's husky and effortlessly affecting voice was built for the sphere of soul, blues and R&B. Unlike many, she's never had to strive for the delivery that characterizes the genres. Further, she has a knowledge of and a respect for their identities. She's also a bona fide songwriter, and the last time she was allowed to steer her own ship, she made an album that saved my life: My December.
 
Taking all that into account, it was befuddling and disappointing that Meaning of Life wasn't really that soulful and sounded impersonal. Once more, Clarkson had the tools to do core or traditional soul, but she played it safe. Though songs like "Whole Lotta Woman," "Cruel" and "Slow Dance" are more overtly propelled by soul, blues and R&B, most are just peppered with them. Pop is still very much the foundation here. "Whole Lotta Woman" is aggravatingly contrived. Stylistic pretense aside, the musical production is brisk, with pronouncing and lush instrumental arrangements. Jesse Shatkin and sibling-duo The Monarch are the central producers. Shatkin was a co-collaborator on Sia's "Chandelier" and worked on Clarkson's Piece by Piece. The Monarch (Sean and Andre Davidson) have frequently partnered with Chris Brown, DJ Khaled and Meek Mill.
 
The lyrics have their bromides, but merit and interesting angles (ex. "Medicine," "Slow Dance") help them stand. "Move You" is pretty cheesy, but when you concentrate on how its sentiments apply in your own life, you might be...moved. Despite any value the material holds, there's a strange disconnect between it and it's executor, Clarkson. Her vocal performance isn't unconvincing or withdrawn. In effect, she's so blistering and feisty, you can hear how much fun she's having (I better remembered ad-libs than words). Yet, you don't get the sense of an intimate stake. When I looked at the liner notes, I realized why that could be: she only co-wrote 4 songs. She allegedly has artistic license for the 1st time in her career, but she leans on pop and only does 4/15 tracks? Weird. If I didn't know any better, I'd think nothing changed.
 
Between the mild genre fluctuation and minimal "on-paper" input, one could suppose that the Meaning of Life for Kelly Clarkson was supremely about vocal freedom. On this record, she could rip and roar differently and comfortably in a way that she couldn't within the confines of patent pop and pop-rock. After all, she did tell the Toronto Star: “Really, my goal was to showcase my vocals so people will stop telling me, ‘My God! I didn’t know you could sing!’” For crying out-loud, you won a singing competition. Conceiving an album around the opinion of imbeciles led to disadvantageous tunnel-vision on vocals. Affability, personalization and accurate advertisement were matters left behind.

​Album Review.
Favorites: Sorry Not Sorry, Tell Me You Love Me, Daddy Issues, Games, Smoke & Mirrors
Dislikes: Lonely, Instruction
Overall: Lovato finally focuses on R&B; her first comprehensively great album in a while
 
I was having a conversation about Demi Lovato's discography when my friend said this: "With Demi albums, you have a couple of gems--which are usually singles--and then a ton of filler. Clearly, she's talented and has a voice, but the albums can't stand as a whole." I didn't totally agree, but I could definitely understand that criticism. The last time I enjoyed something of hers on a comprehensive level was 2009's Here We Go Again. Just when that started to bug me, Tell Me You Love Me arrived consistent and easy to play through. To top it off, Lovato stopped tantalizing me with her R&B nibbles and finally committed to having a project fueled by the genre. I almost felt spoiled.
 
Tell Me You Love Me snatches your attention from its spunky onset, "Sorry Not Sorry," and never lets go. Its fullness in sound and atmospheric quality secures its verve and its iron grip on your ear. Regardless of tempo, every track booms. It seems the production was devised to give you the essence of being right there in the studio with Lovato and a band (ex. the title song). This is an essence that can only be captured listening to the CD directly or in a lossless digital format, such as .WAV. Computerized effects are used alongside and independent of live instruments, but they don’t diminish the vibrancy. They’re made to blend in or mimic the real deal. How about that; applying effects how they should be, instead of intentionally making “music” perfect for a video game? Several numbers have a rousing display, orchestral emulations (ex. "You Don't Do It for Me Anymore") and/or old-school morsels (ex. "Ruin the Friendship"). "Sexy Dirty Love," for instance, is "70's/80's funk meets futuristic pop," à la Timberlake. The record's main producers could be divided into 2 teams. Warren "Oak" Felder shares most of his 5 credits with Zaire Koalo and Trevor Brown, while Mitch Allan splits 7 with Scott Robinson. The 1st team previously collaborated with R&B singer Kehlani. A good amount of Allan's work is with American Idol alums and the Disney Channel. His and Robinson's "Hitchhiker" is the lone case where it's apparent a producer did more than 1 song. It's so musically similar to the preceding "Concentrate," it can't be enjoyed on its own. It's otherwise lovely.
 
Vocally, Lovato continues her campaign to show what she's made of. She compliments her LP's staginess, as she blows down doors and enticingly coos at all the right times. Moments that are flaunty and more obviously about performance (ex. "You Don't Do It for Me Anymore") are just as enjoyable as those that are emotionally driven (ex. "Smoke & Mirrors"). However, the stridence in her voice make you prefer the points where she rounds her notes and goes for power versus height. Many of her "money notes" are pretty piercing, such as at the climax of "Sorry Not Sorry's" bridge. 

Album Review.
Likes: My Forever, My Man, Pick Me Up
Dislikes: The Makings of You
Overall: Braxton goes out with a forgettable fizzle, instead of a bang
 
Shortly before Tamar Braxton released her latest record, Bluebird of Happiness, she sent fans into a tizzy when she posted a picture of the cover with the caption, "This is my best and last album. Enjoy!" In the following days, she explained in an interview that she was stepping back from music to focus on her marriage, but will continue with television. I was skeptical this was her final LP (let's hope she's bluffing), but I didn't doubt it could be her best. Why? For starters, she wasn't posturing in her claims about 2015's Calling All Lovers, which corrected most of what was wrong with the preceding Love & War. 2nd, between a health crisis, quietly departing Epic Records for the independent eOne label, and suddenly getting fired from daytime's The Real, she had plenty to write about. Most importantly, the LP's title and symbolic artwork (Braxton is covered in glittering blue body paint and donning wings) just screamed "concept album!" Upon hearing the name, I did a little research and discovered there's a long history of the bluebird being used an emblem of happiness. However, as I began to listen, I was surprised to hear how off-base my presumptions were.
 
Not only was there nothing that could be perceived as addressing the aforementioned obstacles, there wasn't a tie-in to the purported theme anywhere. Bluebird didn't unfold like a story, where each track takes you through how trials were overcome and bliss was reached. There aren't even singular songs that do that. It isn't overwhelmingly joyous, warm and fuzzy, or full of "Love on Top's" either. As a matter of fact, it's structurally bipolar in that sense. For example, after the starry-eyed opener "My Forever," comes a tune about a guy who can't make up his mind (i.e. "Wanna Love You Boy"). In the middle of infidelity and breakup cuts is the praising mid-tempo "Pick Me Up." Many artists use intros, outros and interludes to pull everything together, but there isn't as much as a bird sound effect to tell or remind us what this album is all about.
 
Even independent of its crucial defect, this record disappointingly falls short. More perplexing than the premise being abandoned is how detached Braxton seems, despite emoting and singing beautifully. Perhaps this impression is emitted because the material sounds so uninspired. I hate Cher's 1998 hit "Believe," but I know nearly every word of it. It was made to penetrate my psyche, regardless of if I wanted it to or not. Whether it's one of the most well-written or powerful songs can be discussed, but in the very least, it won't be forgotten. It's like Braxton and her writing/production team's (which includes Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins and Troy Taylor) only aim was for the lyrics and music to not be comprehensibly subpar. Never mind arousing any feelings, be them like, love, hate or love to hate. Never mind holding any weight for years to come or beyond a 1st listen. Never mind going out with a bang (if Tamar is truly hanging her microphone up). My frustration with this was at its highest with "The Makings of You," which uses the 1974 Gladys Knight & The Pips' rendition of the Curtis Mayfield classic. It so heavily depended on the Pips' take, it might as well have been a cover. The portions that were altered were unremarkable. You don't conjure up Mayfield to be basic. It was almost blasphemous. Some other songs that stand out for only their samples are "Wanna Love You Boy" and "Pick Me Up." The former pulls from Robin Thicke's "Wanna Love You Girl" and lyrically from Fantasia's "Free Yourself," which made me chuckle. The latter is an interpolation of Evelyn "Champagne" King's 80's signature "Love Come Down."
 
Bluebird's "just passable" R&B gave me a flashback of Love & War that I didn't want. Braxton didn't push herself and, ultimately, sold herself short. If she doesn't come out of retirement for any other reason, it should be to create a more suitable bookend.

​Album Review.
Likes: Week Without You, Miss You So Much, Bad Mood, Inspired
Overall: Miley returns to her pop-rock/country roots; delivers sincerity
 
After 2008's pop-rock Breakout, singer-songwriter Miley Cyrus diverted from any artistic potential she showed to do a demonstration of the "teen-to-adult-star" playbook. In 2010, she traded out her guitar for a techno kit, hoping to prove she Can't Be Tamed by doing her best Britney Spears impression. When that didn't work, she problematically relied on hip-hop's counterculture stigma to shed her image as a Disney star with 2013's Bangerz. Now that her (unnecessary) mission is accomplished, she's released the kind of album she should have been doing all along with the heartfelt Younger Now. Written and produced exclusively by Cyrus and Oren Yoel (Cyrus' godmother and country legend Dolly Parton worked on the exception, "Rainbowland"), its sincerity is insulated. The perspective isn't convoluted or contaminated by a plethora of contributors (by the way, Yoel was a previous partner on the Bangerz single "Adore You").
 
Cyrus' submissions about personal growth (ex. "Younger Now"), the world around her (ex. "Inspired") and romantic relationships emanate like poetry written on a late-night after mulling over life. The resentment and discontent is seething (ex. "Love Someone"), the longing is doleful (ex. "Miss You So Much"), and the adoration is boundlessly love-struck (ex. "I Would Die for You"). "Thinkin'" is the only glossy track that isn't a pool of feelings. The lyrics' touchy energy is underpinned by the musical production. The sentimental sweetness has a dramatic crust, as acoustic rock is happily married with templates of classic country and western-film score (ex. "Bad Mood"). Cyrus is so cozily at home on this record and it's palpable. 

Album Review.
Likes: Deliver, Bridges
Dislikes: He Like That, Angel
Overall: Generic material that's just "cute for now"
 
When a music group or band loses a member, it's expected that their next project will noticeably reflect the change; particularly if the absent party was pivotal and/or popular. In the best case scenario, an altered troupe will use the opportunity to constructively rebrand and come out stronger. At worst, things just won't be the same for the fans and some will scatter. For Fifth Harmony, who became a quartet with the contentious exit of favorite Camilla Cabello last year, it's almost like nothing's changed with their new self-titled album. That might come as a relief to some, but it's concerning to me.

​What's been a consistent issue for Fifth Harmony is that they don't have a distinct musical quality. Their
sassy debut LP, Reflection, captured their confident energy, and the following 7/27 had lyrical improvements, but both were generic and transitory in totality. Anyone could've done those records. Despite the member's having writing credits on 5/10 songs, a difficult situation to sing about, and a need to prove they can rise from the ashes, Fifth Harmony is more of the same basic jingle jangles. Less than half way through each track, you know the whole story musically and lyrically. There are no surprises or curve balls, no slivers of mystery or intrigue. Though bits are catchy, there's nothing you can't live without or can't get anywhere else in a variety of places. The album is so "another day at the office," a few cuts sound like 7/27 reincarnations (ex. "Don't Say You Love Me" is similar to "Write On Me"). Producers include "Work from Home's" Joshua "Ammo" Coleman, Selena Gomez collaborator duo DreamLab, Skrillex and The Stereotypes. It's no surprise that one of the songs I liked the most, "Deliver," was done by The Stereotypes, as they had a hand in most of Danity Kane's discography (another girl-group I enjoyed). Most of this record's producers show up only once in the liner notes, so it's curious that the ordinariness is so steady throughout. I'll give the team points for putting 5H's vocals front and center, however. The number of beauteous harmonies is still painfully low, but their individual parts are well-spread and are given the clarity to not have to compete against rhythms.
 
The content is a regression from 7/27's heartfelt upgrades, being bare -wire and simple. "Bridges," which was co-penned by 5H's own Ally Hernandez and Lauren Jauregui, is the lone standout. A socio-political unity ode, it's a direct response to President Donald Trump's divisiveness: "We won't separate, we know love can conquer hate, so we build bridges; bridges, not walls." Another line I love is: "I believe every woman is a fighter, and I believe every man can stand beside her." There was reason to believe this album's material would be laudable and/or noteworthy, beyond the motivation of Cabello's departure. Jauregui is very vociferous about social matters; I anticipated she'd have plenty of credits and there would be more than 1 song like "Bridges." She only contributed to 2 songs (the other being "Sauced Up"); Hernandez had the most with 4 ("Sauced Up," "Make You Mad," "Messy" and "Bridges").
 
Perhaps everything stayed in place here for fear that breaking away would be too much change for the group's beloved "Harmonizers" (their fan-base's name). Maybe it was their usual culmination of factors: they were slapped together and at a young age, the current industry bar is set low, and their handlers view them as radio robots and not a distinguishable force. That's my theory, anyway. They aren't given material or a branding path that's designed to help them stand the test of time. I'm sure that retaining their name (regardless of being a quartet) and attaching it to this record was intended to make a statement about their resilience and definition. I don't think they want to be limited to or defined by "flash-in the pan" tracks, though.