Beyoncé pulled off a coup late last Thursday night when she released a terrific self-titled “visual album” – containing 14 songs, each with an accompanying video – straight to iTunes with zero advance warning or fanfare. The record is expected to easily top the weekly album chart despite being released midway through the stanza, and according to Apple, the album had already sold more than 800,000 digital copies by Monday morning. Not only does Beyoncé rank as the year’s most accomplished and engaging mainstream pop album by a rather laughable margin, but its calculatedly shrugged-off release strategy can’t help but read as an imperious kiss-off toward the singer’s competitors for the 2013 crown — Lady Gaga, Justin Timberlake, Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, and even her husband Jay Z — all of whom worked up gallons of sweat and employed every eyeball-grabbing trick in the book to move their product, only to be upstaged by Beyoncé’s abrupt digital data-dump.
“I’ve been climbing up the walls, ’cause all this shit I hear is boring,” she sings on the album’s second track, by way of explanation. “All these record labels, boring.”
Of course, like Radiohead’s “name-your-price” release of In Rainbows in 2007, this is the sort of trick that can only be pulled off by an artist who has already spent decades tirelessly feeding the publicity machine, and it’s unlikely Beyoncé’s December surprise will “change the music business” any more than Radiohead’s did. Competition is Beyoncé’s lifeblood, and coming off of the commercially disappointing 4, it’s easy to see this as a gauntlet thrown down. Far more personal, confessional, and flat-out filthy than anything the singer has released in the past, Beyoncé offers some striking windows into the star’s personal life, while audio archival snippets from her early years shuttling between beauty contests and kiddie singing competitions are sprinkled throughout, hinting at the lifetime of rigorously maintained perfection and pageantry to which much of this record is a reaction.
“Sweet Dreams” tracks the complicated creation of an ice cream shop in Rwanda. (Lisa Fruchtman/International Film Circuit)
Sweet Dreams, a documentary about efforts by the Brooklyn-based Blue Marble Ice Cream company to help a group of Rwandan women open their own shop, could have come off as insensitive or twee. And in the first 10 minutes, I worried that it was, indeed, about how artisanal food could save Africa.
When viewers are facing the aftermath of genocide in Rwanda, in which hundreds of thousands of Tutsis were slaughtered in 1994, it’s easy to think that ice cream is a comparatively petty concern. But, thankfully, the sibling directors Lisa and Rob Fruchtman have made a nuanced and deftly edited film about a complex issue. It’s fascinating to see the natural resources in this “land of milk and honey” transformed into novelty and development through a soft-serve machine. And, as one man says, “If you are bringing development to the woman, you are bringing it to the whole family.” It is rare to see a movie present such weighty problems and offer nonsimplistic, practical solutions in story form.
Ms. Fruchtman’s background as an editor (Apocalypse Now and Heaven’s Gate) may have helped guide the skillful narrative structure here. The initial focus on the struggles and successes of a small business may be familiar to Western audiences. But then the individual past horrors endured by these women are revealed in subtle and dramatic ways, until we realize the weight of trauma in this nation. “Can someone just see you and start guessing your story?” one subject wonders.
What if we lived in a world where the weak were really strong, and all of our disadvantages could easily become advantages? In his new book, David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants, best-selling writer Malcolm Gladwell (The Tipping Point, Blink, Outliers) tells us we’re already living in that kind of world. Even something as debilitating as dyslexia can be an ambitious man’s ticket to success.
“The one trait in a lot of dyslexic people I know is that by the time we got out of college, our ability to deal with failure was very highly developed,” says Gary Cohn, a man of humble origins whose bold decisions take him to the top of the U.S. financial industry. “I wouldn’t be where I am today without my dyslexia.” Gladwell, a staff writer at the New Yorker, has sold a ton of books explaining seemingly counterintuitive and complex arguments about psychology and the social sciences to a mass audience. In David and Goliath his mission is to show us how our thinking about power, influence and success is often misguided and wrong. “We have, I think, a very rigid and limited definition of what an advantage is,” Gladwell writes. “When we see the giant, why do we automatically assume the battle is his for the winning?” As always, Gladwell populates his pages with insights illustrated by one memorable character study and anecdote after another. He can be an efficient and persuasive storyteller, and in this book his cast of “Davids” include French Impressionist painters, undersized basketball players and civil-rights marchers; his “Goliaths” include the French art establishment, basketball traditionalists and segregationist police chiefs.
THINGS NEVER SAID Cast: Shanola Hampton (Kalindra Stephney), Omari Hardwick (Curtis Jackson), Elimu Nelson (Ronnie), Tamala Jones (Daphne), Michael Beach (Will Jackson), Dorian Missick (Steve),Charlayne Woodard (Charlotte), Tom Wright (Daniel) Written & Directed by: Charles Murray Rated: R Ohio Street Pictures Review by Lori Lakin Hutcherson I might as well get out the disclosure right up front: I have known Things Never Saidwriter/director Charles Murray for well over fifteen years, and at every turn of his career (executive at Magic Johnson’s production company, television writer on Third Watch and Criminal Minds, independent filmmaker) I have rooted for him. Charles is smart, funny and more than a bit of an unapologetic iconoclast, which could only mean two things for him – career suicide or artistic success. After seeing Things Never Said, I am thrilled to report he is a creative force only beginning to mine the gifts he has to share with this world. The story of Things Never Said is deceptively simple: Kalindra (Shanola Hampton), a young woman haunted by a miscarriage and stuck in a bad marriage to former basketball star Ronnie (Elimu Nelson), seeks an outlet through spoken-word poetry. Kal succumbs to an affair with Curtis (Omari Hardwick), a fellow poet who seems to see into her soul, but has his own heavy baggage Kal may not want to take on. While that might sound prosaic and maybe even a little pretentious (note: the poetry is extremely well-performed and relatable, so if you weren’t a poetry fan before, you will be after this), what’s special about this movie is the nuanced, complex and unpredictable ways Murray has his characters grapple with their conflicts. At first, you don’t want Kal to cheat on her husband – she is too intelligent and creative a woman to fall for the game the sexy-but-mysterious Curtis spits at her. But then again, you also wonder why Kal is staying with the sullen, unsupportive Ronnie, who seems to be going nowhere in his life and holding her back from hers. As the layers start to unfold, you learn not only has Ronnie gone through the hardship of losing his future, but also that Kal was brought up by her mother Charlotte (Charlayne Woodard) to believe that sticking with one’s husband no matter what is what defines a woman as a good person and wife. So when Kal finally does give in to her attraction to Curtis, they have so much chemistry and tenderness and understanding between them you want her to get away with the affair… until you realize Curtis may have even less to offer Kal than Ronnie when it’s revealed he’s an ex-con and why he landed in jail in the first place. Actress Shanola Hampton carries the organic twists and turns of this movie so beautifully it’s surprising she’s never had a major role in a film before. She has an equally able partner in Omari Hardwick, who makes you root for Curtis despite the palpable possibility he may be more trouble than he’s worth. Which, I think, is Murray’s point – no matter how much you connect to another person and no matter how they make you feel about yourself or even challenge you to become your better self – the real romance and discovery lies within knowing and healing oneself. This is the thing not said about love – it alone does not conquer all. This is the thing not said about art or creative outlets – they alone do not solve deep issues. Kalindra is not “saved” by Curtis or her poetry, but rather, they both shed light on her path to saving and healing herself from all of the preconceived notions she’s grown up on, from all the ways she’s limited herself, and from all of the abuse she’s accepted – external and internal. Things Never Said is an important addition to African-American independent cinema and humanistic storytelling that should not be missed. Its Los Angeles run has been extended through September 19 and the film opens in Atlanta, Boston, Washington DC, and Gary, Indiana on September 13 – TODAY! Please get out and support the movie — you can get updates on other showings around the country from thingsneversaid.com or on the Things Never Said Facebook Page. Also, check out the trailer below: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1BFiyFqXfQ&w=560&h=315]
Actor Michael Fassbender, left, and director Steve McQueen on the red carpet at the Toronto International Film Festival. (Nathan Denette / Associated Press / September 6, 2013) Brad Pitt didn’t say much during the question-and-answer session that followed the Toronto International Film Festival premiere of “12 Years a Slave” on Friday night, just a short comment on why he produced and co-starred in the Steve McQueen period drama.
But, like his turn as an abolitionist-minded maverick amid a group of brutal slaveowners, Pitt spoke volumes as he stood on the stage with cast and filmmakers. “If I never get to participate in a film again,” he said, his voice trailing off as if to imply this would be enough, “this is it for me,” he finally finished. It’s a sentiment you could imagine the lead cast members — Michael Fassbender, Lupita Nyong’o and of course Chiwetel Eijiofor, standing out amid the standouts — sharing with Pitt. And it’s a sentiment you could imagine the audience feeling. Festivals come and go; movies rise and fade. But once in a great while there’s a film that feels almost instantly, in the room, like it’s going to endure, and change plenty of things along the way. And “12 Years” offers that feeling. Most narrowly, that’s true on Oscar level. By 9 p.m. Friday night, just six days into September, the film had already become a top contender for various acting, writing and directing prizes, as well as the big prize. You could say that’s premature. But you probably wouldn’t if you sat in the room. (Vulture’s Kyle Buchanan certainly didn’t hold back.) It’s equally true on a social level. “12 Years” tells the fact-based story of Solomon Northup (Eijiofor), a free man who in 1841 was kidnapped and sold into slavery, and his travails — at once horrifying and surprising, no matter how much you think you’re ready for them — when he is trafficked to a series of Southern plantations for more than a decade.
Marc Bamuthi Joseph’s “Word Becomes Flesh” was performed at Lincoln Center Out of Doors. (Photo: Ruby Washington/The New York Times)
In a split bill at Damrosch Park Bandshell in New York City, Marc Bamuthi Joseph’s “Word Becomes Flesh” and Kyle Abraham’s “Pavement” explored race, power and, most specifically, what it means to be a black man in contemporary society as part of the Lincoln Center Out of Doors series last Thursday night. Using spoken word, movement and music, Mr. Joseph takes on the issues confronting black fatherhood in “Word Becomes Flesh,” which program notes describe as a “choreopoem.” First performed in 2003 by Mr. Joseph, the work is a recitation of letters written to his unborn son. Now “Word” is reimagined for an ensemble cast of six. The performers share their fears about bringing a child — first addressed as “heartbeat” and later as “brown boy” — into the world.
Spurts of movement — diagonal runs from the wings; slow, exaggerated steps; and springy jumps — often serve to accentuate the wistful text, which magnifies the idea of multiple, insecure fathers-to-be. “You have an intrinsically intimate relationship with your mother,” one dancer says, “but your dad didn’t check out when you were in the womb.”
For all of its words, Mr. Joseph’s loquacious piece lacks poetry. Mr. Abraham’s “Pavement” is more elegiac, yet the thorny sightlines of the Damrosch bandshell did the piece few favors. Mr. Abraham is a beautiful dancer — unpredictable and spry, with the kind of articulation that is likely to become only more refined and subtle with age — but his packed productions are somewhat unconvincing. “Pavement,” influenced by the writings of W. E. B. Du Bois and John Singleton’s 1991 film “Boyz N the Hood,” is set in the historically black neighborhoods of Pittsburgh. It was there, at 14, that Mr. Abraham first watched the Singleton movie; audio clips from the film are included in the production.
Tension is wonderful in a work, and Mr. Abraham’s propensity for moving his dancers in multiple directions — his movement phrases show a body swirling one way and then the next before evading momentum with a backward hop in arabesque — can be exhilarating. But the push and pull between narrative and dancing throughout “Pavement” gives it a choppy, locomotive feel. The film audio is overkill.
FRUITVALE STATION Cast: Michael B. Jordan (Oscar Grant), Octavia Spencer (Wanda), Melonie Diaz (Sophina), Ariana Neal (Tatiana), Kevin Durand (Officer Caruso), Chad Michael Murray (Officer Ingram),Ahna O’Reilly (Katie) Written & Directed by: Ryan Coogler Rated: R The Weinstein Co.
Review by Lori Lakin Hutcherson I intended to write this review two weeks ago, when I saw Fruitvale Station in limited release. Two things occurred to prevent that – one ordinary: my babysitter cancelled, so bye bye writing time – and one extraordinary: George Zimmerman was found not guilty of killing Trayvon Martin the very next day. In the wake of the national outrage and protests and vigils, I thought my review of Fruitvale Station couldn’t help but be greatly affected. But as the film goes into wide release on 1,064 screens today, I realize I feel exactly the same about the film as I did two Fridays ago. Put plainly, Fruitvale Station is the most riveting, artfully-told, written, directed and acted movie of the year, it should win 2013 Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Director, and every adult living should immediately make all efforts to see this movie and receive a mind-and-heart-altering reminder that every single person alive, no matter what sex, creed, color or age, has humanity that deserves recognition and respect. The basics of the story are probably already known to most: Bay Area-based writer/director Ryan Coogler was deeply moved by the tragic shooting of fellow Bay Area native Oscar Grant, a 22 year-old black man who was killed at the Fruitvale BART Station by police on New Year’s Day 2009. Coogler wanted to show what Grant’s last day of life was like, so people would see not just a victim or a thug, but who and how Oscar really was. And not just the good or misunderstood parts of Oscar, but also the bad, the funny, the sweet and the ugly – and know he was a vibrant, complex being who in no way deserved the callous and all-too-common fate he received. The movie opens stunningly with real cellphone footage of Oscar Grant’s murder. If you’ve never seen it before (which I hadn’t), it is gutting. I involuntarily burst into tears – I was just so sad and angry and shocked at the injustice – it took a lot to pull myself back into the movie and get to know Oscar in life as viscerally as I did in death. As much as it smarts, Coogler’s choice to start the film this way is brilliant, because it communicates powerfully the underlying truth of what’s to unfold – you may be watching a movie, but do not ever forget – THIS WAS REAL. Fruitvale then segues into off-screen dialogue between Oscar (Michael B. Jordan) and his girlfriend Sophina (Melonie Diaz) much earlier that morning. She is upset with Oscar because of an infidelity he tries in vain to explain away. As they get their young daughter Tatiana (Ariana Neal) ready for school, we learn Oscar is a sweet, loving and permissive father (he sneaks his daughter the extra snack her mom said she couldn’t have) who sells dope sometimes to make ends meet. As we continue with Oscar through the challenges and banality of his morning (stretching the gas in his tank before filling up, texting his Mom “Happy Birthday”, dropping his girlfriend off at work, picking up food for his mom’s party, worrying about rent) we learn he’s been in and out of prison several times and is struggling to get it together. Oscar, mind-blowingly portrayed and embodied by Jordan, comes off as equal parts charismatic, tough, caring and desperate. In one moment he is helping a customer in the deli where he worked figure out how to cook fish by putting her on the phone with his Grandma Bonnie; the next he is defiantly demanding/begging his ex-boss to rehire him. When he doesn’t get his job back, Oscar immediately plays it off with a co-worker, lies with a smile, and acts like it’s all good. The code switching Oscar goes through in this one day – the subtly different-yet-specific ways he behaves and speaks with his daughter, his mom, his sister, girlfriend, his homies, his boss – is, I think, the key revelation of the film, and why this story is connecting with audiences everywhere. Oscar Grant, the young, black, ex-convict drug dealer is, surprisingly, an everyperson, dealing with the same contradictory bundle of human dynamics, dramas and relationships we all do. When Oscar makes a pivotal choice to change his life mid-way through the film (after reflecting on time he spent in jail), he drops his tough-guy mask and confesses to Sophina that he lost his day job and has taken himself out of the dope game. When Sophina starts to go in on him (understandably – it’s clear she’s been through a lot with him), her strength and humanity shine through when a few beats later she forgives and supports him despite the immediate hardship his actions are creating. Diaz is perfect in this underplayed moment – Sophina, more than anybody, sees the vulnerable Oscar and whether or not she fully believes in his potential, she loves and respects him enough to support him on his stilted journey towards betterment. A lot more happens in the movie before we get to the fateful moment on the BART platform at Fruitvale on New Year’s Eve 2008/New Year’s Day 2009, but truly, instead of reading a summary of it here, you should just go see it for yourself. Do let me say though that Octavia Spencer, who plays Oscar’s mother Wanda… well, what she does in the movie is beyond deserving another Oscar (which, of course, she does). She should open up acting clinics and teach other actors how real people actually behave in extreme circumstances. If the viewers I was in the theatre with weren’t crying before, the way Spencer reacts to the news of Oscar’s death and her subsequent viewing of his body in the hospital caused an all-out, audible sob fest. From beginning to end, the whole movie feels authentic, without a shred of manipulation. Though there is definite filmmaking throughout Fruitvale Station and filmic choices being made, they are seamless and only enhance the raw power and poignancy of the story. Even at a relatively short running time of 1 hour 30 minutes, I came out of the theater feeling as if I’d lived another life. And I did. I lived Oscar Grant’s life and was deeply, sorely sad it was gone. And the great thing – I wasn’t alone. The whole audience felt it for 90 minutes – black, white, male, female, young, old – we all felt like we were Oscar Grant.
It seems impossible that anyone may not know only hours ago George Zimmerman was found not guilty and cleared of all charges in the Trayvon Martin trial held in Florida. Is seems impossible that anyone may not react with sadness, anger, disbelief, or any combination of the three. It also seems impossible to know what to do in this moment that would counteract this miscarriage of justice and continued devaluation of the humanity of young black men in America. But if we consider the basics of what we know about Trayvon Martin, we can honor him by following his example and setting our own: 1. Act lawfully – no rioting or lashing out in anger – only defend yourself when you need to. Refuse to reduce yourself to prejudice and unprovoked violence. Both are the refuge of the cowardly and weak. 2. Get proactive. Write, email and tweet your local, state and federal officials and representatives and let them know you consider this verdict a travesty and want them to publicly make a statement saying as much. 3. Join the NAACP’s movement to get the Department of Justice to file civil charges against Zimmerman by clicking here or here at moveon.org and signing the petition and share the link immediately on all your social media. 4. Urge every Floridian you know to clamor for the repeal of Florida’s Stand Your Ground Law by contacting their state and federal representatives. 5. Vote. In every local, state and federal election. Use your voice to make policy and change policy. 6. Go see “Fruitvale Station” if it is playing in your town this weekend, or flood the theaters on July 26th when it opens wide. Make this movie number one. Show America with your dollars that taking the lives of black men simply for being black men demeans us all as human beings and will not be tolerated any longer. 7. Emmett Till. Medgar Evers. Martin Luther King Jr. Oscar Grant. Trayvon Martin… and countless, nameless others. Teach the history. NEVER FORGET. by Lori Lakin Hutcherson, Good Black News Editor-in-Chief
WHITE HOUSE DOWN Cast: Channing Tatum (John Cale), Jamie Foxx (President Sawyer), Maggie Gyllenhaal (Finnerty), Jason Clarke (Stenz), James Woods (Walker), Richard Jenkins (Raphelson),Joey King (Emily Cale) Directed by: Roland Emmerich Rated: PG-13 Sony Pictures
Review by Lesa Lakin I figured out pretty quickly how great this movie experience was going to be and it started the second I decided to question the price of my ticket (it seemed a few bucks higher than usual). I confidently uttered to the guy behind the counter as I looked at the digital price board, then at my ticket, and finally at my phone for the correct time: “Hey… isn’t this supposed to be the matinee price?” I was ripe with evidence for a 10 a.m. AMC price battle. But Counter Guy was ready for me – he had that gleam those movie nerds get when they are super excited to share some precious movie nerd information with a movie-going civilian. He told me I was lucky, for I would be seeing the film in… ETX! “Okay… E…T… what? Do I really need that? Is it worth the extra few bucks?” He calmly leaned in and said, “Trust me, if you don’t see White House Down in ETX…you’ll regret it.” (I gave a quick “I doubt that” glance he wisely chose to ignore.) “It’s the enhanced theater experience and totally worth it,” he proclaimed. The situation made me chuckle and I wasn’t in the mood to haggle anymore. Besides, I was about to miss the previews, not to mention I’d have to wait another 30 minutes to see the non-ETX version. So I was in, and Counter Guy seemed pleased I backed off so quickly. White House Down in ETX… recommended by Brian… and after all that, I’ve got to say, I enjoyed every bit of my enhanced theater experience. White House Down may be down (ranked #6 this week)… but don’t count it out. This filmis downright fun and exactly what I expected it to be – loud, funny and non-sensically entertaining, but in a good way. It’s a summer formula blast-and-laugh movie. Even though it didn’t blow the competition out of the water, if you are willing to go with it and have fun, it certainly delivers. I readily admit that the premise is sort of nuts. Divorced, ex-soldier, capital cop, John Cale (Channing Tatum), scores a Washington favor and gets his politically-obsessed daughter, Emily Cale (Joey King), a trip to accompany him to the White House while he interviews for his dream job of working Secret Service detail for the President (Jamie Foxx). Okay… so maybe that makes sense. But then he randomly discovers that an old friend (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is doing the interviewing. Okay, I’ll drink the Kool-Aid and buy that coincidence… but where it gets just straight-up preposterous is when Emily decides (after her Dad has lied to her about his chances of really getting the job) to take the White House tour and they run into the President who does a quick “shout out” to Emily’s blog followers and oh, guess what, today is the day that bad guys out-smart everyone and take over the White House. The bad guys’ paramilitary is ridiculously armed and seems to outwit everyone on the White House staff. They take out most of the in-house Secret Service and cops so it’s up to John Kale to save POTUS, his daughter and the world. And oh, did I mention World War III might happen and the bad guys also have missiles? And regardless of ALL THAT… I bit. It’s Popcorn Flick 101 and it’s awesome. The whole cast of White House Down gives some surprisingly memorable performances. In fact, the casting for this film is so spot-on, the actors help you forget that what they are saying really shouldn’t make any sense… but they sell it and it works. This film doesn’t try to be anything that it isn’t, and you know it the minute the leads hit the screen. Tatum is the “Every Guy” every guy thinks he could be and the guy girls want to believe they can get. He’s got that quiet hunk thing going for him. Foxx is meeker than we are used to seeing on screen, but it works… he’s supposed to be POTUS after all (and despite having to play “Presidential,” he still manages to bring some funny). There is something very clever about teaming seasoned Jamie Foxx with the younger Channing Tatum, and the film offers several throwbacks to Gen-X times. There are pagers, Air Jordans and heck, just blowing up the White House (Independence Day anyone? Which, btw, was also directed by Emmerich) fondly recalls the 90s. But even the blockbuster/comic book film generation can appreciate this one… if they give it a shot. Although I’m grateful to Brian at AMC, I know the non-ETX version would have captured my fancy just fine, because White HouseDown is surefire summertime fun.
The Hero (8pm Thursdays, TNT) Host: Dwayne Johnson I’ve got to give it to the folks at TNT – it was a smart choice to air a competition reality show hosted by wrestler-turned-movie-star Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. It’s completely entertaining, mainly because The Rock reminds the viewer very early on, well…that he’s got charisma in spades. The Hero takes nine contestants and makes them endure physical challenges as well as ethical mind games while attempting to gain enough viewer appeal to be voted into the final where the winner’s pot could reach up to one million dollars. I usually get frustrated with the whole audience voter scenario, but The Hero has thrown in measuring a person’s moral compass, and that makes what the home audience thinks a little more appealing. On top of jumping, rappelling, crawling, and conquering real fears, the participants have their principles tested with offers of cash on the sly. In other words, the show asks each of them the question: “If no one’s looking, how greedy will you be?” If every contestant selflessly resists the chance to pocket easy money when it’s offered in private, then it all goes into the team pot. The way the money is earned and the challenge scenario is tiered and a bit confusing. Nonetheless it’s easy to grasp that there is a one in nine chance to win up to a million dollars. James Bond himself doesn’t have to do half the stuff these contestants do. And the casting is genius. They’ve got contestants with serious phobias. One can’t handle heights, another freaks out in the dark…um, hello…you signed up for a show called The Hero hosted by the Rock…and you’ve got phobias? It’s such a fun twist I was sucked into watching human behavior at its rawest. In a pretty hilarious segment, a female contestant who is terrified of heights is asked to join The Rock atop the roof of a skyscraper. He eagerly awaits her as she chants, “I’m not going to fail … I’m not going to fail.” As she walks up two flights of stairs (yes, only two) to get to him he utters, “You’re not going to fail.” It’s just some stairs and there is railing but she is terrified. She makes it and leaps into the Rock’s bulging , welcoming arms. It’s a terrific human moment. He smiles, hugs and encourages her, but then offers her some money to pocket for herself or put in the pot. A moral dilemma ensues. It’s a provocative scenario each time it occurs: “You’re broke…here’s some money and you need it… take it or put it in the pot.” As one contestant puts it (I’m paraphrasing here): “These people are not saying no to the money because they are good people. They are saying no because they want to appear to be good for the audience that votes so they will be voted to go to the end and have a chance at a more money.” All on all, The Hero is a thoroughly watchable show, although I can’t say the title works. Are these people actually heroic? Not really. But Dwayne in all his Rockness and the challenges make for a fun summer series. Set in Panama, I’m not sure they’ll find a “Hero”… but they may just find the ratings. Reviewed by Lesa Lakin
What if we lived in a world where the weak were really strong, and all of our disadvantages could easily become advantages? In his new book, David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants, best-selling writer Malcolm Gladwell (The Tipping Point, Blink, Outliers) tells us we’re already living in that kind of world. Even something as debilitating as 
It seems impossible that anyone may not know only hours ago George Zimmerman was found not guilty and cleared of all charges in the Trayvon Martin trial held in Florida. Is seems impossible that anyone may not react with sadness, anger, disbelief, or any combination of the three. It also seems impossible to know what to do in this moment that would counteract this miscarriage of justice and continued devaluation of the humanity of young black men in America. But if we consider the basics of what we know about Trayvon Martin, we can honor him by following his example and setting our own:
WHITE HOUSE DOWN 
Reviewed by Lesa Lakin