​I don't know how I learned that Whitney Houston's birthday was August 9th when I was little, but I'm sure my obsession with her lead to that revelation. I was so infatuated with her, that I'd get in trouble at school for writing her name on my textbooks and talking about her during tutoring sessions. Such minor infractions, right? The teacher in question used to shade me a lot in class too; she clearly had a vendetta, haha. Anyway, I'd always brag to people that Whitney's birthday was the day before mine. In my mind, that made us connected in a special way.
 
To celebrate Whitney's life and discography today, here's a lovely photo motion video below from Brandon Wiggins and Houston aficionado Jamaal D. Pittman. Pittman hilariously voiced Houston in the divalicious web-series, Got to Be Real. Houston would have been 54.
 
#WhitneyForever 

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 Jamaal D. Pittman, contributing writer

If you were around during the 80s and 90s, you would be hard-pressed to name a Whitney Houston hit that wasn’t associated with a life memory. She not only possessed a once-in-a-lifetime voice, but her songs are unforgettable and a part of the soundtrack of our lives. Whitney was exceptionally beautiful, poised and confident; part of a generation of pure talent who didn’t need flashy lights and intricate choreography to keep you transfixed. Her mezzo-soprano voice, impeccable stage presence and strong catalog of hits did all of her heavy lifting. If there was ever a gold standard for what a diva was supposed to be, Whitney Houston was it.

I wasn’t just your average fan. Long before Eminem coined the moniker, I was a Whitney “stan” and proud of it. From the time I was in middle school, I was a walking human encyclopedia of all things Whitney. I could easily rattle off her Billboard chart history and list of awards. I knew the lyrics of little-known album cuts like “Love is a Contact Sport” and “Thinking About You” just as well as classics like “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)” and “I Will Always Love You.” It was nothing for me to throw in random Whitney-isms while singing along to other people’s songs, complete with her signature register changes, lightning-fast runs and “My Lord’s.” I even portrayed her on the hit web-series Got 2B Real. Musically speaking, she was and continues to be my everything. In this contest, there is no second-place prize.

Her legacy is undeniable. Every female singer who hit the scene after her was labeled the “next Whitney Houston,” and as much as it was an honor in a sense, these bold proclamations also annoyed and perplexed me. Sure, on one hand the comparisons reminded us that she was the benchmark, but on the other, they seemed to take her inimitable gifts for granted, suggesting that it wouldn’t take much for another of her kind to emerge. The irony of this—and one of the things that made her so special—is the fact that she was never trying to be the next anyone. She simply wanted to sing and touch people’s lives with her music and she did it better than anyone who ever stood behind a microphone.

So, the devastation I felt on the night she passed was undeniable and inescapable. Looking at the scrolling news tickers on the cable news networks, I couldn’t accept the finality of the end date affixed to the timeline of her incredible life. The fact that the words “Whitney Houston” and “dead” appeared side-by-side seemed like a cruel joke, especially as she had just wrapped production on the film Sparkle and was gearing up for a major comeback. 
Her death absolutely gutted me. A full year later, it still hurts. In a 1988 hit, she asked us a hauntingly enigmatic question: Where do broken hearts go? Just about every day since February 11, 2012, I’ve wished like hell that I had the answer. But I am certain of a few things: She is missed. She is loved. And she will never be forgotten as one of the greatest singers the world has ever known. 

May she rest in peace.