Album Review by Eddie J., Contributing Writer
 
Likes: Cruel Summer, Death By A Thousand Cuts, False God, You Need to Calm Down
Dislikes: Cornelia Street, Me!, The Man
Overall: Overwhelmingly bright and 80's reminiscent; a somewhat disjointed album with enjoyable (though not infectious) pop tracks and ballads
 
Taylor Swift's new album Lover indicates a shift in her vantage point from her last release Reputation, which was notably scathing towards past boyfriends, her former label Big Machine Records, and the Kim-Ye phone-gate scandal. Joyful staccato chords rhythmically ring from a grand piano in Lover's opener "I Forgot That You Existed," as Swift sets the tone singing, "How many days did I spend thinking 'bout how you did me wrong?" The bubbly mid-tempo song resolves with, "It isn't love, it isn't hate, it's just indifference." If Reputation was the pain Swift endured for a night, Lover is her joy that came in the morning. While this kind of 'shift' isn't a new phenomena with artists, it's always gratifying for the listener if it's done properly (e.g. Marvin Gaye's political What's Going On? was followed by the sensual Let's Get It On). The record's theme is one of varying degrees of love:  platonic, familial, self, and of course, romantic (which is in the driver's seat majority of the time).
 
Musically, the bulk of Lover can be described as 'summertime in the 80's,' with synths, percussive bass lines, and major chords galore. Swift's predilection for this nostalgic sound works for her here, just as it did on 1989. It separates her from the current trend of blending pop with trap hip-hop (something she flirted with on Reputation), and it reintroduces her extensive use of an acoustic guitar. She doesn't deliver an over-saturation of cliché commercial ditties, as the album's singles and her previous history would suggest, however. "Death By A Thousand Cuts" is probably the most experimental track, merging classical choral arrangements with folksy acoustic guitars, and arpeggiating harps. All evolve verse to verse, while Taylor holds the fort vocally and lyrically. "False God" casually mixes a jazzy sax riff with mid-tempo electro elements and sparse synthesizers, as if the combination is commonplace. "Soon You'll Get Better," featuring background harmonies by The Dixie Chicks, is a stripped-bare country ballad, with only guitars, banjos and vocals. It's the most personal cut, depicting Swift's emotional state during her mother's battle with cancer. The album as a whole effortlessly changes tempo and musical trajectory through each number, giving the perception that it's shorter than the overwhelming 18 tracks it contains. In addition, many of the songs are around three minutes in length and don't drag on longer than necessary (aside from “Cornelia Street”). This works in the LP's favor, as the compositions are largely straightforward loops that can get very redundant after awhile. 
 
As to be expected, Swift's lyricism is exceptional. Her colorful and imagery-laden illustrations are conflated with her emotions in each song, such as being "drunk in the back of the car," while crying "like a baby"  to reflect her desperation in "Cruel Summer." Nothing is poorly written outside of "Me!," even if the music or melodies don't hold the rest up, like in "The Man." There's not a lot of new ground covered topically, so it stands out when Swift leans towards social or controversial subjects, which seems to be her intention. The concept of "False God" is one of her most daring. Lines like "Religion's in your lips; even if it's a false god, we'd still worship," are sure to rile up Bible Belt Swifties. Resounding excerpts like the harmonized "Shade never made anybody less gay!" on "You Need To Calm Down," and "I'd get there quicker if I was a man" on "The Man" shine a light onto Swift's sociopolitical views and values. The overstated-ness in the content is an exclamation; Swift made sure not to clamor with any figurative language, so that her points are crystal clear. 
 
There aren't many drawbacks to Lover, but the few flaws are blatant. The lack of pop potency is chief among them. Swift showed with 1989 and Reputation that she was capable of creating infectious pop, and crafting a highly cohesive concept album. 1989 had quite a bit of filler, but the songs that weren't (i.e. "Style," "Shake It Off," and "Bad Blood") attached themselves to your subconscious mind after one listen. Reputation had the same contagious quality and conceived a dark, stirring ambiance (ex. "Look What You Made Me Do," "Gorgeous," "End Game"). Lover has a couple of songs that can get stuck in your head, but only after several listens. The wonder of a Taylor Swift pop album is how she brilliantly pairs relatable and clever lyricism with catchy melodies, and has a full-fledged production team to complete the package. With this project, the wonder is replaced with a formulaic approach. Swift's musicality is very particular and arguably limited, so her work will seem "run of the mill" when both infectiousness and an intriguing concept are missing.

​Album Review by Omri Hophra, Contributing Writer
Likes: DNA, Element, Loyalty
Overall: Kendrick did it again: he’s carved his own lane and blazing through it. Lyrical proficiency, solid production.
 
Kendrick Lamar's fourth studio LP couldn’t be more appropriately named, as DAMN is all that’s left to say after hearing it. From the opening introduction ("Blood"), it's obvious this album is offering to take its listener for a ride. The preamble presents two ultimatums of choosing wickedness or weakness, and life or death. Lamar tells a startling story of trying to help a blind woman find what she is missing, only to find that what's lost is his life when she shoots him.
 
What follows can best be described as a blend of the themes that made Lamar's previous records so compelling. The socio-political threads of To Pimp a Butterfly (ex. injustice, racism, religion and culture) are met with the personal "a day in the life" keynotes of Good Kid, M.A.A.D City to explain the effect of one on the other, and this time, detail a whole life in a day (or a 14 track album). Lamar pours himself out with vulnerability, expressing insecurity, paranoia and anger. Needless to say, the conceptual and musical tones are melancholy. Even the lighter fare is tortured. The production work of Bēkon, Sounwave and Mike Will Made It (among others) serve to draw attention to Lamar's versatility with vocal delivery and lyricism, as he matches the quick rhythmic changes and moods. The analogies, metaphors and symbolism he utilizes to paint his pictures are enough to send any sapiosexual for a cold shower. Older millennials will feel nostalgic when they hear the call backs to Juveniles "Ha" (i.e. "Element"), Ol' Dirty Bastard's "Shimmy Shimmy Ya" (i.e. "Loyalty") and the OutKast-esque "Lust." Throwback and classic samples (DAMN.'s include James Brown and Earth, Wind & Fire) are standard on rap albums, which is part of why "Element" and "Loyalty" stick out for their contemporary characteristics. "Element's" hook seems intentionally Drake-like, while the hypnotic and dopamine-activating "Loyalty" (featuring Rihanna) takes from Bruno Mars' "24K Magic." These cuts are highlights, along with "DNA," that opens with Lamar addressing his haters on FOXNews with chastisement they're likely too obtuse to understand. Though some moments are particularly bright, there's zero fat on this record. It closes with gunfire, coming back to the shooting in "Blood." This signals that the entire body of work you've just heard was Lamar's life flashing before his eyes before he dies. DAMN!
 
In an era where most rappers are just aiming for a hot single, many believe hip-hop is dead. DAMN. will send people back to the genre to check for a pulse. It's not of bravado and braggadocio. Kendrick Lamar is an artist connecting to his fans without ever having to meet them. It's plain refreshing to see a rapper dumping his mind, heart and soul into his art instead of a false persona.

Album Review by Eddie J., Contributing Writer
Likes: Self Control, Solo (Reprise), Close To You
Dislike: Nike, Ivy, Seigfried
Overall: A quasi-artistic album of avant-garde filler, with occasional melodic promises that only prove to delude the listener.
 
The incomparable Janet Jackson once said, "There's something to be said for not saying anything." I'm starting this review with this quote because it's the "something to be said" for Frank Ocean's "not saying anything" sophomore LP Blond (the French spelling of the masculine adjective “blonde”). After a 4-year sabbatical being an elusive chanteur, Ocean comes back with a left-field sounding, scandal-inducing and highly underwhelming double release (Blond comes with a visual album entitled Endless that was essentially a throw-away project he made to scam his label, à la Joanne The Scammer). Although there are genuine instances of harmonic and melodic beauty (ex. "Self Control), as well as insightful lyrical realizations (ex. "Nights" discusses cowardice and hypocrisy in equality pursuits), you can't fully appreciate them for being bombarded by their monotonous and aimless surroundings. The 10% of beauty and "ah ha!" moments aren't worth enduring the 90% of gloomy (yet airy) and repetitive production choices, and extensive, droning verses that might as well be him talking. Scam.
 
When he's actually singing, Ocean sounds amazing. The vocal performances throughout the record were for the most part entrancing, especially when he emotes. His lower register takes the cake over his higher chest and head voice. In some cases, he uses his voice in more unconventional means, such as purposefully singing out of tune or using the "Prisimizer" effect in "Close to You" (an effect that manipulates a single vocal and produces synthesized harmonies in sync with that vocal). The production is evasive, but not entirely unattainable. I acknowledge this style of music isn't so far beyond the realm of being listenable, and it can be done in an effective manner. Although it doesn't suit my personal taste, it has an interesting quality where you can get used to it after the initial shock of lacking rhythmic percussion and the overuse of simplistic, ceaseless chord progressions wears off. Since it takes up to half of the album for this sensory adaptation to occur, re-listening to Blond will be required.
 
It would be erroneous to not also acknowledge that Frank Ocean is a genius as it pertains to creativity and album concepts. The subtle touching on various subjects, like sexuality, race, religion, drug use and self-worth in the face of meaningful, but unhealthy relationships (friendships, familial and romantic) are worth noting. It's clear that he had a direction in compiling this body of work. The problems, however, are painstakingly obvious and Ocean's genius wasn't enough to cover them. This project was too big of an endeavor for him at this time, as he doesn't seem to have a fully-developed artistic identity yet. It can be assumed that Frank has a perception of himself that doesn't necessarily translate well on wax. Take for instance the opening song, "Nike," a commentary on the consumerist and materialistic social climate that has affected our psyche. The beginning lines make the song's point clear, but Ocean ends up rambling in a stream of consciousness, going from bragging about his sexual performance (i.e. "But if you need dick I got you...") to referencing the unlawful death of teen Trayvon Martin literally two lines afterwards. Further, the Martin lyric is purposively aware, but is a crass dismissal of the racial climate that lead to his death (i.e. "RIP Trayvon, that ni**a look just like me"). It's not that Frank can't pull a record of this caliber off; I just don't think he has the tools in his arsenal right now to make it happen in such a way that will leave people in awe or with a changed perspective on life.

Rock&Rant-Quick rants about music.
By Eddie J., Contributing Writer

So, anytime a hip-hop/rap or R&B artist who may or may not have some kind of credibility as a lyricist releases a new record, these click-bait "X Amount of Writers are Credited on ____'s New Album" articles always seem to pop up. The purpose is usually to subliminally invalidate the artist's skill-set and fuel debates on whether they're talented or not. It's been done with Kanye West (The Life of Pablo had 103 writers), Beyoncé (Lemonade=72 writers) and now Drake (Views=81 writers). That sounds like a lot of Pablos, views and gallons of lemonade, but hold up! There's a little technicality to be mindful of. Not even half of the individuals listed did any literal writing. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if no more than 10 people actually assisted. Let me explain...
 
Often in hip-hop/rap and R&B, there's this cute thing called sampling that happens, where portions of a song by someone else are mixed in. When this is done, the song and its original writers typically have to be cited for legality's sake (e.g., "This song contains replayed elements from 'You Tried It' by Tamar Braxton"). Those few of us who still buy physical copies (and read liner notes) and others who frequent Wikipedia, see these sample lists. The remaining majority who don't are prime takers of the click-bait and pass it along to the other fish that such and such artist doesn't write their own rhymes or can't stand on their own.
 
Take Drake's "U with Me" (featured on Views) for example. It contains samples of "What These B*tches Want" and an interpolation of "How's It Goin' Down," both by DMX. Breaking this down, "What These B*ches Want" was written by Earl Simmons (DMX's real name), Mark Andrews, Tamir Ruffin and Phillip Weatherspoon. "How's It Goin Down" was written by DMX and Anthony Fields. When you remove those names from "U With Me" in the credits, you have only Drake, PARTYNEXTDOOR, Dave Goode and the producers: 40, Kanye West, DJ Dahi, AxlFolie and Vinylz. 13 writers just went down 8.
 
This brings me to my next point: also in hip-hop music, producers are almost always included as songwriters in the notes. This is probably in part to how hands-on producers are in creating the music or melodic ideas the artist uses. Taking into account how limited credits are in showing the true extent of each person's contribution, a "producer" can be a composer, someone who programmed the drums, or made with the chorus melody that the song was developed around. In that case, it makes sense to consider this kind of work "writing." However, this doesn't mean that Drake, Nicki Minaj or Kanye West are sitting in a room full of 10 other people taking different bits and pieces of lyrics to make a song. These times are occasional, and rarely involve more than 2 or 3 people tops, which is the average amount of writers on a song in any genre.
 
Finally, some rappers are simply best at their primary job of rapping and need to bring in help for choruses, hooks and catchy moments in their verses. Just because one can receive points on a song for doing this, it doesn't mean the artist they worked for is lacking talent or capability. It's assumed that hooks are easy to form, but it requires a particular skill. It's fairly uncommon in the realm of hip-hop/rap that artists can come up with great hooks naturally because their focus is choosing a topic, inventively approaching said topic, punch-lines, voice inflections/delivery, rhyme structure/pattern and verse variation. It may take a village for your favorite song or album to be made, but that never has anything to do with how good or bad the artist is at lyricism or overall. So feel free to take this red pill with a tall glass of lemonade, and enjoy the views.

By Ladan, Contributing Writer

Dear Ms. Lauryn Hill...

Thank you. I want to start there. As a matter of fact, I think it's important I start there. You're one of the dopest MCs to ever grace hip-hop and I remember feeling inspired to sing because you made alto singing popular. You blessed us with The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and for this we are forever grateful. 

So now, here we are in 2016 and I'm crossing off an item on my bucket list because I've just witnessed your concert at Chastain Park in Atlanta, GA. The park was filled with those like myself who respect and adore you. With that being said, Lauryn, I need to ask why you would make us wait 2 hours and 35 minutes for this moment with you? I'd hope you would respect your fans and supporters-who are still fervent after 15+ years and just 1 studio album-more than this. This was a commitment you made, this was your word. Our time and money is valuable, and I'm sure you would agree that like any relationship, respect should be the reciprocal gift that keeps on giving.

Moving forward, with no apology or acknowledgement, you jumped right into "Perfect Peace." You are still beautifully talented and your voice is as I remember it...mostly. This was your opportunity to make-up for your tardiness. As a fellow alto, I noticed you struggled with mid-range notes. Your stage presence and energy, or lack thereof, was low-level from the start and I think we all expected more from you. As for the choice of opening, we like "Perfect Peace," but we were all waiting for one of your songs that gave us that nostalgic feeling. We wanted Miseducation in motion. You gave it to us 2 songs later, but the music paced faster than we remember the lyrics moving, making it hard to recognize anything. We couldn't sing along. This was your chance to make us feel like family again. It didn't happen. Not helping matters, we couldn't see you well. The stage lighting was poor; we couldn't catch true glimpses of you and the creative power your dancers brought to your performance. Even the screens weren't very clear due to the dimness after 10pm. I'd do you a disservice by dismissing these things Lauryn, but in fairness, amidst the boo-ing from my peers, I should tell you what you got right.

As an independent artist, your production was exceptional. Your band delivered!! I commend your ability to find and recognize talent that is truly outstanding. I don't want to breeze by that lightly, because I know they are a reflection of you and I need to thank you for that. The atmospheric lights that projected into the theatre brought elements that we fans needed. It felt warm, uplifting and it kept the crowd engaged...as much as could be done. Finally Lauryn, about 30 minutes into your set, the venue operators cut your microphone off (there's a strict noise ordinance at 11pm) and as much as I love you, I think it was best. When I returned home from Chastain, I showered to The Miseducation. I needed to remember the Lauryn and the artistry we all knew. The person I saw was essentially still Lauryn, but without the heart, respect, nobility and love for what she does.

Signed,
Nostalgically Disappointed, but Still Yours Truly

Album Review by @LocaLamb, Contributing Writer
Likes: Love In The Dark, Send Your Love (To Your New Lover), I Miss You, When We Were Young. 
Dislikes: Remedy 
Overall: Loved the vocals and production. Wish she had at least 1 more up-tempo.

British phenom Adele is back with 25, following up from the 2011 U.S. diamond-certified mega-smash, 21. Sticking to what she does best, the album is ballad-heavy, but don't call it 21 part 2. The angst and heartache isn't as heavy as before, nor is it as bluesy as it was on her debut, 19. There's pop flair with the Max Martin produced "Send My Love (To Your New Lover)," which is sonically reflective of his work on Taylor Swift's "I Knew You Were Trouble." Adele is snarky, but forgiving in the lyrics, fun and hiccupy on the vocals, as she tells her former lover to "Treat [his new lover] better." It's definitely a nice "kiss kiss, wish ya' the best" adieu. Another highlight is the vampy groove "I Miss You." It's starts out with haunting reverberated calls, cascading with deep, Florence + The Machine-esque bass-like drums. Different than what we've heard thus far from Ms. Adkins, it was a treat and quite sexy, if I may add. These 2 refreshing cuts set the tone of the record.
 
The generous amount of piano-driven ballads include the vulnerable "All I Ask," the gentle "Remedy" and the beautiful moment of "When We Were Young." The latter is a slight nod to Barbra Streisand's "The Way Were Were." The song builds and Adele lets out a belt towards the climax, but sadly, I was left wanting more. Her nostalgia continues on the near-southern-gospel anthem "River Lea" (This one grew on me, personally). My favorite is "Love In The Dark," which opens with a string orchestra and piano. It feels like the mournful Adele that most know and love. "Water Under The Bridge" is beachy and has a big chorus that's movie soundtrack worthy. The guitar chords of a "Million Years Ago" reminded me a tad bit of Mariah Carey's 1998 hit "My All." I love that no 2 songs sound the same. Adele is bright, insightful and opening her heart yet again. One can sense the mood she was in while making the album; getting used to being a household name, stable in love and a new mother. Speaking of, I believe the babbles heard on the breezy "Sweetest Devotion" are from her 3-year-old son, Angelo. With 25, you get a happier Adele; something fans need not be scared of because she's rocking it and it feels organic. It's like you can hear her smiling in the recording booth. The best part of this album has got to be her vocals, especially with the usage of layering in the choruses. She may have had some struggles--needing laser microsurgery after a vocal-cord hemorrhage right before her tour for 21--but she prevailed on this album, executing what seems to be higher notes with clarity and diction. There wasn't too much going over-the-top with the production (contributors included Bruno Mars and Danger Mouse); everything meshed so well.
 
When discussing 25, I wish people would speak more on Adele's musicality, grace and work put in, rather than what records she'll beat, who she's going to show-up at the Grammy Awards, and whether it will top 21. Listening with quality headphones makes the experience even better, as you can hear the effort to make this album unlike her other 2. It was early 2008 when I first heard Adele and her husky, smoky, soul-tinged vocals on "Chasing Pavements," and just like then, I'm smitten.

By Jamaal D. Pittman, Contributing Writer
 
Remember the good old days when Fox's Empire was must-see TV? Well, you should, considering that it was only a few short months ago. It seems the show's production team didn’t receive the same memo we did that Empire was a highly anticipated, critical and commercial hit with an instantly green-lit 2nd season. Memos sometimes get lost in the mail, so I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt for now. It's getting harder to ignore, however, that the series has been struggling to find its groove since its return in September. Not since Desperate Housewives—a former ABC comedy-drama with a landmark 1st season—do I recall such a drastic sophomore slump. Don’t get me wrong; Housewives had flashes of brilliance throughout its 8-year run, but it never quite regained its footing after its game changer of a debut. The final 7 years were spent limping towards the finish line, and by the time the celebratory tape was crossed, no one really cared. So, in regards to Empire, who's experiencing a similar second-season jinx, let’s invoke the spirit of TLC’s Left Eye for this all-important question: How can a show achieve such massive success out of the gate and then fall off so quickly? Well, I’ve got 3 compelling answers, so get ready to do your math.
 
Misuse of Talent
Somewhere along the way, the show developed a frustrating penchant for underutilizing its core talent, often to prop up guest stars in meaningless, if not boring, roles. Yes, we all know that Taraji P. Henson, Terrence Howard, and their respective characters are exceptional, but there are gifted cast-members who aren't being properly used. Trai Byers’ turn as Andre Lyon can be powerful, layered and riveting, as long as the writers remember to give him something — anything — to do, besides be a pawn in Lucious’ game. Grace Gealey’s Anika, season 1’s standout supporting antagonist, has been reduced to a not-so-glorified extra, strapped to a whipping post as the writers invent shameful new ways to humiliate her. When she’s not twerking for deals, this supposedly savvy businesswoman is playing eager side piece to a 20-year-old rapper. I’ve lost count of how many literal and figurative doors “Boo Boo Kitty” has had slammed in her face this season, and she hasn’t even been on much. While I understand that villains are sometimes softened to be more endearing over the course of a show’s run, Anika seems to have undergone a full-on lobotomy. She’s hardly recognizable and the fire that made her so compelling as the girl we all loved to hate has been extinguished. Gealey has ability far beyond the material she’s received as of late, and it’s a shame that it's being wasted.
 
Payoffs That Fall Flat
Intriguing developments are resolved too quickly on this show, and their impact is forgotten within a few episodes. For example, the season 1 finale highlighted the murder of Vernon Turner and the arrest of Lucious Lyon. For any other series, that would've set up several compelling story arcs for the next season. Oh, but not Empire. Just a few episodes into season 2, Lucious uses extortion to secure his release, and Vernon’s corpse is used for shock value and slapstick humor, as its placed in a district attorney's car to scare the heebie-jeebies out of her. Empire is often referred to as a soap opera, but one of its fundamental problems is the absence of continuity and fluidity between episodes. The show could benefit greatly from employing the best tactics from every soap playbook: make the story build, make the people wait, and make the payoff worth it.

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.