Kyla Pratt's dress has the disconcerting effect of looking like long, Ringu-like strands of wet hair are clinging to her.


Love the shape of Tatyana Ali's frock, don't love the odd mix of gold, eyelet and lamé.


Karimah Westbrook, despite odd belt, looks incredibly sleek.


Wow! Kinda loving Nautica De La Cruz' dramatic retro formal.


I feel like the odd length of Aasha Davis' dress shouldn't work, but it does.


Mari Morrow's peach confection is kinda Disney-does-Olympus!


Debating Camille Winbush's unusual choice of sandal with graphic. I suspect she's working it. What say you?


I'm really hoping a little girl saw Jennia Fredrique en route, because this Swan Princess situation would totally make her year, and probably influence the rest of her life in a profound way.


Audra McDonald's LBD: retro-perfect.


CeCe Antoinette sports a mother-of-the-bride classic: the token, transparent coat. Other varietals include the jacket, bolero, and shawl.


Niecy Nash does her usual unreconstructed bombshell.


I am very "pro" bringing back getups like Lauren Velez' as loungewear - hostess pajamas, even. And I am quite pro discouraging them as red carpet wear. In a purely rhetorical sense, of course - obviously anyone should have the freedom to wear what she will, a reason I've always shied away from the construction "fashion crime" in any variation.


What say you: is Monique Coleman sporting separates - or a dress? And how does this effect your opinion? (I'm channeling those "discussion questions" at the back of a worthy paperback.)

[Images via Getty]

[Los Angeles, February 2. Image via Bauer-Griffin]

[Santa Monica, September 9. Image via INF]

Variety:

Marquee lure Combs was considered the weak link on stage. But while he may lack the experience and technique to project to the second balcony, he's more satisfactory — a tad facially inexpressive, but otherwise hitting the right notes — under the camera's intimate gaze. Other thesps, particularly the laureled three female leads and charming Oyelowo, are terrific.

Director Kenny Leon, who also helmed the show on Broadway, attempts to open up the action, drawing on Paris Qualles' screenplay, which in turn is adapted from a TV version of the original play by Hansberry herself. The staging remains a bit creaky, but none of this diminishes the spirit of the play or the cast's commitment to the material, which almost seems palpable. It's still a provocative, powerful piece of work

Combs does a fair enough job hitting his marks, and he has successfully made himself into a working-class man of the middle 20th century; there is no trace of his own fabulous life in his portrayal of Walter Lee, but there are no overtones in his performance, no intermediate shades — it's all primary colors. It's impossible not to notice that he works at a lower skill level than his costars, who support but also eclipse him.

There are no mediocre performances here. Ms. Lathan is terrific at conveying the snobbery that comes from cultural self-loathing. Beneatha doesn't simply want better things; she wants to be part of a world of bigger and better ideas. Walter, a chauffeur to a wealthy white businessman, wants to live well and be seen. That Mr. Combs makes his desires seem like more than empty materialism must come in some part from the fact that he has been hungry at the same table.

We only discovered in 1989, when "American Playhouse" mounted a public-TV version with Danny Glover and Esther Rolle, that a number of passages on class, violence, feminism, and African nationalism (not to mention Beneatha's Afro) had been abbreviated or omitted from the original stage production. They are mostly restored here, too, and more valuable than the attempts to open up the set to the rich interiors and pastoral climes of white employers. Actually, Raisin works well on television, like so many other fifties plays that tended toward the Freudian and claustrophobic, with their Munch-scream close-ups and slammed Ibsen doors.

Beyond giving this rendition a sense of life and dramatic momentum, Leon's direction captures the intimacy and authenticity of the family's interplay — the sardonic humor, eruptions of anger, bonds of understanding and forgiveness among loving albeit often feisty characters living in close quarters.

The latest film version of "A Raisin in the Sun" features Sean "P. Diddy" Combs, surrounded by strong women whose fine acting talents support his less-polished performance. In some ways, his uneven performance is better suited to the role than Sidney Poitier's suave Serious Actor finesse. When this Walter says he's "a volcano," you believe.

Entertainment Weekly
Variety
The Hollywood Reporter
LA Times
NY Times
NY Mag
Houston Chronicle
Denver Post

The Good:
Um, according to the picture caption, this is Broadway diva/Private Practice star Audra McDonald. (We think it's actually Sanaa Lathan. But, you know, all black women look the same!) Anyway, Sanaa looks hot in her minidress, boots, and practical but still chic mid-length puffy coat.
Against my better judgment, I love AnnaSophia Robb's (faux, I hope!) fur floppy hat, puffy coat, and layers of sweaters. She looks angelic and cozy.
Though Virginia Madsen's scarf sorta looks like a towel, snaps to her for going with such fresh and kicky colors. Also, someone has clearly been watching What Not To Wear and learning about how layering can keep you from looking like you're cutting yourself in equal parts across the middle!


The Bad:
There is so much good in Angelica Huston's outfit. The Christmas color palette is not one of those things.
Janice Combs: Too much fringe, not enough warmth!
There's a reason Tom Arnold is no longer a star. We just never knew that his sartorial choices might be it.
Mischa Barton's crime? Looking way too much like Lohan.


The Ugly:
Beard + Uncle Jesse = UGH

[Photos via INF.]