UPDATE: According to Cpl. Kay Lester of the Fulton County police, Kelly's death "may have been a possible drug overdose," Fox News reports. Kelly's mother, Donna Kelly Pratt, has released the following statement in regards to her son's death (via Buzzfeed):
"It is with deep sadness that we announce that our beloved Chris Kelly has passed away on May 1. To millions of fans worldwide, he was the trendsetting, backwards pants-wearing one-half of Kris Kross who loved making music. But to us, he was just Chris — the kind, generous and fun-loving life of the party. Though he was only with us a short time, we feel blessed to have been able to share some incredible moments with him. His legacy will live on through his music, and we will forever love him."
EARLIER: Chris Kelly, one half of the popular 90s rap duo Kriss Kross, has passed away. He was 34 years old. Hollywood.com confirmed the news with the Fulton County Medical Examiner's office, but an official comment was unavailable.
According to a report from the Associated Press, Kelly was reportedly pronounced dead on the south campus of the Atlanta Medical Center at 5PM EST on Wednesday after being found unresponsive at his home. No further details were provided.
Kelly performed in the popular group alongside his friend Chris Smith as a young child in the early 90s, even scoring a chart-topping hit, "Jump" from their 1992 debut album "Totally Krossed Out." Kelly was more commonly known as Mac Daddy, while Smith was Daddy Mac. The two were discovered by popular producer/artist Jermaine Dupri at a shopping mall in the group's hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. In their short career, the men (who were young children at the time) performed with Michael Jackson, and were featured in the music videos of popular groups Run D.M.C and TLC. The pair recently reunited for the So So Def (the record label started by Dupri) 20th Anniversary concert earlier in 2013.
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What's an episode about self-empowerment without a vagina? In Carrie Bradshaw's 1984 we are twelve years away from the birth of The Vagina Monologues, but its themes of female strength and self-discovery are alive and well in "Read Before Use." In the face of her father's ban on Sebastian, Carrie must figure out what is right for herself — could a scandalous art exhibition in Manhattan be just what Carrie needs to take control of her own romantic destiny?
In the halls of Castlebury High, away from the disapproving gaze of Tom Bradshaw, Carrie and Sebastian are free to continue their there's-something-heatin-up flirtation. And this week, with Donna pushed safely off screen, things have escalated to shared headphones. The sounds of the Cars' "new album" — which deductive reasoning tells me must be Heartbeat City — mingles with the young almost-couple's pheromones as they bend their heads towards the Walkman. The scene is equal parts adorable and sexually charged, as puppy love is meant to be. But Carrie's proximity to Sebastian at school has only acted to remind her that disengaging won't be as easy as her father thinks, and Carrie begins her search for the source of her father's misgivings.
Carrie finds more on that topic than she's bargaining for, however, locked away in her father's legal files. One S. Kydd, whom we can only assume is Sebastian, is a past client of Mr. Bradshaw's (or, should I say, Mr. Bradshaw, Esq.). Sebastian, it turns out, enlisted Mr. Bradshaw's legal aid after engaging in "intimate relations" with his Art History teacher. Now, if this were Gossip Girl, we would've gotten a steamy flashback of the sordid affair; but since this is the chaste Carrie Diaries, we instead get a wide-eyed Carrie Bradshaw dropping her flashlight in dismay and stern warnings from her friends to stay away.
Afraid of Sebastian's ahem, experience, Carrie heads to the city with Mouse and the object of Mouse's affections (and the taker of her virginity), Seth, to clear her mind Larissa, perpetual purveyor of good times, takes the underage crew to Franklin Furnance, the cleanest, most well-lit, avant-garde performance art space of the 1980s. The main attraction is titled "Monica Penny: Take Back the Vagina," and features former porn star Monica Penny exposing her nether regions to art enthusiasts for spare change. Penny is "taking back her vagina," spirit guide Larissa explains, not selling it. She is in control, she is calling the shots, she is woman — hear her roar! Carrie turns the exhibition — and the metaphor — on its head, however, when she takes back her own vagina by refusing to show it. Self-empowerment for Carrie means saying, "No" — to Monica Penny, to Larissa, and to her father.
While Carrie is rattling off every euphemism for "vagina" she can think of, Mouse is getting pinned by her Princeton boyfriend and Tom Bradshaw is looking for a little release at a Manhattan singles bar — being a widower, apparently, is quite the pickup line. As Tom gets his mack on, his Stouffer's french bread pizza-loving youngest daughter is back in Connecticut searching for her stolen hamster (named Morrissey), and self-proclaimed Drama Queen Maggie is murdering a stuffed panda. If that all sounds a little campy, it's because it is — and Voiceover Carrie's puns aren't doing the B and C plot-lines any favors (“While someone was about to show their box, another one was being decorated” has got to be the worst segue Carrie Bradshaw has ever uttered — and that's saying something).
Fresh from her eye-opening experience in the city, Carrie is ready to take on her dad. She will not stop seeing Sebastian, she tells her father, despite nefarious escapades. Upon hearing that Carrie has snooped through his confidential files, Mr. Bradshaw's eyes go wide and his jaw goes slack. "Will I ever be able to trust you again?" he asks. And with one question, just nine small words, Mr. Bradshaw reveals the true Drama Queen.
But Carrie's trust troubles are just beginning, as her dad isn't the only person stung by her snooping. Sebastian, it turns out, is not only upset that Carrie knows about his past, but he is surprised to learn that his family hired a lawyer to sweep it all under the rug. As Carrie attempts to explain her way out of the hole in which she has found herself, she only succeeds in digging down deeper. Sebastian has heard enough. "All this talking, and snooping, and talking, it's way too complicated." Is this the last we'll see of Sebastian Kydd? As much as Carrie's ridiculous forgiveness of her father's outburst (I mean, seriously, we're going to let him get away with forbidding his daughter from dating someone? Really? In an episode about female empowerment?) hints otherwise, I highly doubt that. Sebastian Kydd's abs are not so easily forgotten.
Follow Abbey Stone on Twitter @abbeystone
[Photo Credit: CW]
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Bobby Garfield (David Morse) returns to his small hometown to attend the funeral of his childhood friend and remembers the fateful summer in 1960 when his whole world changed. The story flashes back to when 11-year-old Bobby (Anton Yelchin) and his best friends Carol (Mika Boorem) and Sully-John (Will Rothhaar) capture the pure joy of youthfulness. When a mysterious stranger named Ted Brautigan (Anthony Hopkins) moves upstairs and starts to pay attention to Bobby the boy suddenly realizes what's truly missing from his life--the love of a parent. Bobby's mother Liz (Hope Davis) is embittered by the death of Bobby's father and shows little compassion for her son's growing needs. Ted fills a void with the boy opening his eyes to the world around him and helps Bobby come to terms with his real feelings for Carol--and his mother. But Ted also has some deep dark secrets of his own and Bobby tries hard to stop danger from reaching the old man.
The performances make the film especially in the genuine camaraderie of the kids. Yelchin Boorem and Rothhaar never deliver a false move with an easiness that makes us believe we are simply watching three 11-year-old children grow up together. Yelchin in particular is able to get right to the heart of this young boy who misses his father and clings to the only adult who will listen. And his scenes with Boorem simply break your heart. (Davis) does an admirable job playing a part none too sympathetic. She manages to show a woman whose been beaten down but who does truly love her son in her own way. Morse too is one of those character actors you can plug in any movie and get a performance worth noting. In Hearts you want to see more of him. Of course the film shines brightest when Hopkins is on the screen. It may not be an Oscar-caliber performance but the actor is unparalleled in bringing a character to life--showing the subtleties of an old man looking for some peace in his life.
If you are expecting the Stephen King novel you may be disappointed. Screenwriter William Goldman and director Scott Hicks (Shine) deftly extracted the King formula of telling a story through a child's eye and explaining how the relationships formed as a child shaped the adult later. Hicks did an amazing job with his young actors especially Yelchin and Boorem. But where the novel continued into a supernatural theme explaining Brautigan's fear of being captured by "low men in yellow coats" (a reference to King's The Dark Tower series) the movie downplayed the mystical elements instead giving real explanations for Brautigan's man-on-the-run. That was the one problem with Hearts--we needed more danger. Introducing men from another dimension may not have been the way to go but had there been more tension the film would have resonated more especially when Bobby risked his own safety to save Ted.