DJ Screw gets the national treatment in this six-part series.
Photo by IYO Visuals
With June 27th — aka DJ Screw Day — just around the corner, Spotify/Gimlet Media’s hip-hop podcast Mogul will be celebrating the life and legacy of the late, Houston-rap pioneer in its latest season, premiering Wednesday, June 23.
The third season of this podcast, where host Brandon “Jinx” Jenkins delves into hip-hop’s most iconic moments, will chronicle the story of Robert Earl Davis, Jr.
That reclusive DJ created his own genre — Chopped and Screwed — by slowing music down until it sounded like syrup coming out of your speakers.
This six-episode season will dive into the world of Screw (who passed away in 2000) and his signature slowed-down, syrupy hip-hop sound, the rise of his mixtape (the hottest rap commodity in Houston in the late ’90s), his struggles with addiction, and his seclusion after the death of a close friend.
Paul Wall, Bun B, and Screwed Up Click (S.U.C.) members Lil’ Flip and Lil’ Keke are a few of the H-Town, hip-hop heavyweights interviewed for this season. (Editor’s note: The writer of this article was also interviewed.)
Mogul will also explore how Houston-born artists like Travis Scott, Megan Thee Stallion, and Beyoncé represent Screw’s inescapable influence on pop and rap in the music scene today.
For more information, visit the show’s Spotify page here.
Of all the formulaic movie genres, Christmas/holiday movies are among the most predictable. No matter what the problem is that arises between family members, friends, or potential romantic partners, the stories in holiday movies are designed to give viewers a feel-good ending even if the majority of the movie makes you feel pretty bad.
That’s certainly the case in Oh. What. Fun., in which Michelle Pfeiffer plays Claire, an underappreciated mom living in Houston with her inattentive husband, Nick (Denis Leary). As the film begins, her three children are arriving back home for Christmas: The high-strung Channing (Felicity Jones) is married to the milquetoast Doug (Jason Schwartzman); the aloof Taylor (Chloë Grace Moretz) brings home yet another new girlfriend; and the perpetual child Sammy (Dominic Sessa) has just broken up with his girlfriend.
Each of the family members seems to be oblivious to everything Claire does for them, especially when it comes to what she really wants: For them to nominate her to win a trip to see a talk show in L.A. hosted by Zazzy Tims (Eva Longoria). When she accidentally gets left behind on a planned outing to see a show, Claire reaches her breaking point and — in a kind of Home Alone in reverse — she decides to drive across the country to get to the show herself.
Written and directed by Michael Showalter (The Idea of You), and co-written by Chandler Baker (who wrote the short story on which the film is based), the movie never establishes any kind of enjoyable rhythm. Each of the characters, including competitive neighbor Jeanne (Joan Chen), is assigned a character trait that becomes their entire personality, with none of them allowed to evolve into something deeper.
The filmmakers lean hard into the idea that Claire is a person who always puts her family first and receives very little in return, but the evidence presented in the story is sketchy at best. Every situation shown in the film is so superficial that tension barely exists, and the (over)reactions by Claire give her family members few opportunities to make up for their failings.
The most interesting part of the movie comes when Claire actually makes it to the Zazzy Sims show. Even though what happens there is just as unbelievable as anything else presented in the story, Showalter and Baker concoct a scene that allows Claire and others to fully express the central theme of the film, and for a few minutes the movie actually lives up to its title.
Pfeiffer, given her first leading role since 2020’s French Exit, is a somewhat manic presence, and her thick Texas accent and unnecessary voiceover don’t do her any favors. It seems weird to have such a strong supporting cast with almost nothing of substance to do, but almost all of them are wasted, including Danielle Brooks in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo. The lone exception is Longoria, who is a blast in the few scenes she gets.
Oh. What. Fun. is far from the first movie to try and fail at becoming a new holiday classic, but the pedigree of Showalter and the cast make this dismal viewing experience extra disappointing. Ironically, overworked and underappreciated moms deserve a much better story than the one this movie delivers.
