Dear neighbor in apartment 33, Please turn up your music! I love those loud, wall-shaking, hip-hop beats, especially at 12 am when I have class the next morning. But as it stands now, I can’t make out the words. It’s just a nondescript thudding sound, unless I’m sitting in my favorite chair next to the wall where I can sometimes make out those wonderful and witty lyrics. So please, turn it up. Wake me up from my boring slumber and don’t think about the welfare of your neighbor. That’s okay.

I’m posting my thoughts on Ray right now, before it leaves my memory. I will be honest; Taylor Hackford is a cool guy. He knows what he’s doing and he’s a good director. But I just saw Ray at the Beverly Center (avoid this theater—more on that later) and it blew, big time. Joined by intrepid if slightly lackadaisical cinematography duo Cindy F. and Chuck D., we proceeded into the theater at the very top of the Beverly Center complex. It is large and seems underutilized, but it was a Wednesday night, so I’ll give them some slack.