Connect with us

Entertainment

ShyBelligerent, reformed pimp turned rapper, shines a light on vulnerability in L.A. hip-hop

Published

on

ShyBelligerent, reformed pimp turned rapper, shines a light on vulnerability in L.A. hip-hop

ShyBelligerent is hurting.

You can see it in his videos, where he paces helplessly through cemeteries and city streets and unfurnished bedrooms. You can hear and feel it in his voice. The 30-year-old rapper born Michael William, who is rail-thin with sharp, angular features and a pencil mustache, is also fearless on the page. He writes about all that’s been done to him, and all that he’s had to do.

“I can’t forget about the past,” he wails on his latest album, “It’s a Ugly Come Up.” “Where the Hennessey at? I’m finna down that. My whole life, I’ve been down bad.” The beats, mostly piano-based, are exquisitely complementary. Shy himself is movingly human — full of vim but also lonesome and afraid.

“I got to plot it out,” Shy says of the new album. “I actually got to make it a great project.” Much of his previous work was rushed and improvised. This time around, though, Shy took his sweet time. Lyrically and thematically, “It’s a Ugly Come Up” is focused without infringing too much on the spontaneity that has become Shy’s trademark.

For Shy, lyrics are of secondary importance. His power is in his voice — a twitchy, erratic, untethered yelp — that reveals him not as a victim, but as a vessel of chronic pain. The Compton native says he is tormented by what he’s experienced or, more to the point, what he can’t un-experience. How appropriate that Shy tweets under the handle “@sbbenthroughit.”

Advertisement

His song “Cry Me a River,” is a desperate airing of grievances. Thus far, “River” is the most viral song Shy has ever made (156,000 YouTube views and counting).

“In the L.A. music scene, my problem as a producer is that everybody sounds like everybody else,” says TooRawEntertainment, Shy’s producer who sends him beats from his studio in Arizona. “[Shy] definitely stands out. His delivery is crazy and his energy is even crazier. And he tells the truth, for real, in his raps.”

The “Cry Me a River” video captures the L.A. rapper flopping around in a raggedy tent adjoining a rail yard. Shy is not unhoused — he is in fact a very vocal tenant of the Housing Authority of the City of Los Angeles, better known as HACLA. Though he has a place to stay, at times he seems lost in his chaotic interior world. In conversation, the rapper lives up to the implied duality in his name — alternating between quiet and rambunctious. But if you only know him through his music, nothing can prepare you for just how demure and put-together he is in real life.

Advertisement

“I think it’s one of the most remarkable things about him,” says DeJon Paul, a rap critic and blogger from Inglewood who is also a regular on the popular hip-hop podcast “No Jumper.” His local gravitas provides a refreshing contrast to “No Jumper” host Adam22. Each year Paul rolls out the local equivalent of XXL magazine’s Freshman Class list. Shy was one of the chosen few in 2023.

ShyBelligerent

In conversation, ShyBelligerent lives up to the implied duality in his name — alternating between quiet and rambunctious.

(David McGriff)

“He has this bombastic personality on wax and in his videos,” Paul said. “ But when you hang out with him or when you interview him, when you run into him in public, he’s quiet, stoic, he’s to himself, he’s reserved.” The explanation for that lies in Shy’s upbringing.

“It wasn’t your typical mother-father scenario,” Shy says. “My mother was supposed to fight for me, but she just wasn’t able to.” His mother walked out when he was an infant. His unstable father was not any better prepared for parenthood. As a child he was “signed over” to his stern, churchgoing grandmother and jazz-enthusing grandfather. Shy remained in their care until he was 15.

Advertisement

Some good came of this familial arrangement. His grandfather instilled in him a musical curiosity that persists to the present day (“That’s why my style is so unique”). But Shy was a cowed and glum child. His world, small to begin with, shrank by two when his parents left his life. He couldn’t make sense of it. The more he fumbled for answers, the more overwhelmed he became by entropy and uncertainty.

“Later down the line,” Shy says now, “I was able to speak up and ask questions and figure things out.” But in grieving his lost youth, he became quarrelsome and sometimes belligerent. Shy’s trajectory is all too familiar: frightened, neglected boys often become angry men.

For a time he sought release and restoration in the classroom (his favorite course was Honors English). The gridiron was another precious sanctuary; Shy played defensive end on the Compton High football team. Even then, however, he had designs on a rap career; it was around 2009 when he got serious about his craft. L.A. is a networker’s paradise and Shy likes to network, but he didn’t always. His teenage apprenticeship was completely informal and self-supervised.

“This was when YG was in his prime,” Shy says. At the time, YG was an up-and-coming wiry truth-teller, a fellow Compton rapper who turned into a superstar and provided Shy with a blueprint of how to succeed. “I was trying to make a name for myself then, but with the little resources I had, the little knowledge I had at that moment, it was rocky.”

Advertisement

William had at his disposal only the cheapest of equipment — RadioShack microphones and “busted-up laptops.” Eventually he built a functioning studio out of primitive equipment.

If Shy’s creative life suffered, it was because he had competing responsibilities. He fathered a child at 15. This enraged his fundamentalist grandparents, who sent him scrambling for steady work, much like Ice Cube on “A Bird in the Hand.” He worked in dollar stores, warehouses — any place that would pay him a legal wage. Shy’s employment history is largely aboveboard, but he’s done things for money that by his own admission are inexcusably vile.

As Shy’s rapping evolved, so too did his journalistic sense. He began to experiment with the vlogger model of YouTube street reporting. The following he gained from this activity wasn’t huge relative to the biggest vloggers, but it also wasn’t negligible. Shy says he has a knack for timing, for providentially capturing extraordinary scenes as they happen.

On tracks such as “Son of a Bitch,” William recounts a period in his life when he was “pimping hoes.” This isn’t a euphemism nor is it a case of hip-hop fabulism. He has direct experience trafficking women.

“It was for a short amount of time,” he says, while conceding that he was active long enough to inflict lasting damage on the women funneled into his “stable.”

Advertisement

“Having daughters would make you rethink the whole situation,” he says. “I’ve seen a bigger picture now.” These may sound like limp platitudes, but on “Son of a Bitch,” Shy sounds like the most spiritually tortured ex-trafficker in hip-hop history. (Suga Free with a conscience? All jokes aside, their rapping styles are very similar.)

Watts had always functioned as a second home for Shy, and at some point he moved there permanently. In retrospect, Watts was the best place he could’ve gone. Shy’s identity is bound up, almost inextricably, with this close-knit community of 35,000. Would there be a ShyBelligerent if he still were mooning around Compton?

ShyBelligerent

Watts functioned as a second home for ShyBelligerent and at some point he moved there permanently. His identity is bound up, almost inextricably, with the community.

(David McGriff)

Shy’s adopted home is fertile ground for rap talent. He currently lives in the low-slung, lemon-hued Nickerson Gardens apartment complex and identifies intensely with the place. In his X bio, Shy introduces himself as an unsigned artist from Nickerson Gardens. His free agency is a geographic catastrophe, and also an A&R failure, says Paul.

Advertisement

“I’m surprised TDE hasn’t snatched him up,” Paul says, referring to Top Dawg Entertainment, the prestigious label whose roster — Kendrick Lamar, Jay Rock, Schoolboy Q — descends on Nickerson every year for a Christmas jamboree and toy drive.

Therein lies a critical action verb: snatch. Shy is forever snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. He has talent, emotional courage, great sonic instincts (his beat selection is top-notch). But he often seems like an accident waiting to happen. “It’s a Ugly Come Up” is so feral, so brazenly uninhibited, that Schoolboy Q’s “Blue Lips” seems almost family-friendly by comparison.

Any major label would try to soften Shy’s rough edges — and who wants that? Certainly not him. For all the doubt and pain Shy has endured in his 30 years, for all the catastrophic blows to his psyche, he stands by his music. It’s his one source of self-esteem, self-efficacy and pride.

“I’m a musical genius,” he says flatly. Maybe that’s hyperbolic, maybe not, but his dramatic genius isn’t up for debate. In matters of using hip-hop to dramatize human hurt, there’s no question ShyBelligerent is as great as he says he is.

Advertisement

Movie Reviews

Movie Review: Travolta’s “Propeller: One-Way Night Coach” is One for the Ages — All Ages

Published

on

Movie Review: Travolta’s “Propeller: One-Way Night Coach” is One for the Ages — All Ages

Back in the good ol’days — the ’90s — John Travolta would love to get off the topic of “Michael,” “Pulp Fiction” or “Get Shorty” in interviews with film journalists like me and regale us with how utterly besotted he had been with his first flying experience, how that drove his passion for piloting and buying planes and airfield-adjacent luxury houses.

He didn’t even seem to mind having to move house when this or that development balked at him flying his Boeing 707 out of there on the way to locations.

Travolta would tell any journalist who asked that he was writing a kid-friendly book, “Propeller: One Way Night Coach,” based on his first flights as a child in old propeller driven airliners — cheap red-eye overnight treks with too many connections for your average jet age traveller to tolerate.

I remember picking up the book when it came out later in the ’90s — at an airport gift shop — and thinking “Well, that’s as cute as I figured.”

And now, decades later and trapped in the B-movie hell of his post “Gotti” career, Travolta’s turned that cute book into the most delightful, fanciful and colorful bon bon of a movie.

Advertisement

“One Way Night Coach” is a child’s fantasy of flight and flying the way it used to be — with pristine, uncrowded, futuristic airports, an early ’60s era of jets and prop planes with over-uniformed stewardesses in white gloves, the days “Back before every Joe Sweatsock could wedge himself behind a lunch tray and jet off to Raleigh-Durham,” as Sideshow Bob memorably sneered on “The Simpsons’.”

It’s a fictionalized account of Travolta’s childhood about an only child (at least two Travolta siblings have bit parts in this movie) of a never-made-it/never-will actress/single-mom (Kelly Eviston-Quinnett) who indulges her aviation-obsessed eight-year-old with a cheap cross-country overnight flight.

Little Jeff (Clark Shotwell) will revel in almost every Idlewild to Pittsburgh to Dayton to Chicago to Kansas City to Denver and Los Angeles minute. He strolls into the cockpit to meet pilots, charms the stewardesses and checks out the sleeping bunks on the TWA Lockheed Super Constellation, loving even the delays if not the Chicken Cordon Bleu he’s offered on legs of the journey that offer a meal.

And as he’s an observant child, he comments (Travolta narrates) on his 50ish mother’s vamping and posing, her choice of cigarettes (Newports) and drinks, the solo traveling men whose attention she pursues and earns.

“I was her best audience,” adult Jeff remembers of the mother who’d read him plays as bedtime stories and delusionally hopes that this trip to Los Angeles might be her “big break” even though she’s pushing 50.

Advertisement

Hollywood called,” she’d explain about their overnight cheap flight arrangements to ticket agents and crew. “They told me to take the next flight!”

At every turn, Jeff meets or sees kindness — stewardesses who indulge his many questions and bump them up to first class on the mostly-empty planes, a captain who fixes his toy model of a Constellation, a mentally ill flyer who flips out but is calmed by a flight attendant who isn’t overworked and frazzled in jet-powered tin-can jammed with Joe and Jane Sweatsocks who think nothing of traveling in their pajamas.

Normally, I cringe at pictures this reliant on voice-over narration. I recoil from stars who populate their picture with Sandler etc. offspring. But “Propeller” is unfailingly sweet and never cloying.

Sure, it’s fictionalized. But if you’ve followed Travolta’s life and career, a lot of him is in this — his raptoruous engagement with flying, an indulged child who developed a taste for fine food and creature comforts, a mother who was his guiding star as an actor.

I get why there are less adoring reviews than mine floating around “Propeller.” It’s unfailingly sweet. Mom’s man-hunting is seriously dated. This TWA tale is decorated with Gershwin’s majestic “Rhapsody in Blue” — United Airlines’ signature tune. And Travolta’s been around long enough for recent generations to come up and not feel a connection to the “Saturday Night Fever/Get Shorty” star whose career has fallen off and life has been visited by too much tragedy.

Advertisement

But I’d hate to be seated next to anybody who doesn’t appreciate this adorable, pristine and nearly perfect aviation fantasy on any flight, much less an overnight one.

Rating: TV-PG

Cast: Clark Shotwell, Kelly Eviston-Quinnett, Ellen Travolta, Ella Beau Travolta, Olga Hoffmann and John Travolta.

Credits: Scripted and directed by John Travolta, based on his book. An Apple TV+ release.

Running time: 1:01

Advertisement
Unknown's avatar

About Roger Moore

Movie Critic, formerly with McClatchy-Tribune News Service, Orlando Sentinel, published in Spin Magazine, The World and now published here, Orlando Magazine, Autoweek Magazine

Continue Reading

Entertainment

After ‘Barbie’ success, Mattel looks to He-Man for another box-office lift

Published

on

After ‘Barbie’ success, Mattel looks to He-Man for another box-office lift

Three years ago, Mattel Inc. struck box-office gold — or rather, pink — with the billion-dollar success of “Barbie.”

In its first return to theaters since the female-forward phenomenon, the El Segundo toymaker is turning to the brawny He-Man for another box-office lift.

Its latest film, “Masters of the Universe,” opens this weekend, as Mattel looks to build on that previous success and continue extending its signature toy brands into the entertainment arena.

“The movie is very much in tune with culture,” said Mattel Chief Executive Ynon Kreiz. “Everything is much more contemporary relative to what was created more than 40 years ago, but it’s still very true to the origin story and to the DNA of the brand.”

The new film arrives at a pivotal time for Mattel, which is facing pressure from investors to grow its business. The maker of Hot Wheels, American Girl and Uno has recently confronted a challenging market for toys, beset by tariffs on goods produced overseas and weaker-than-expected demand for Barbie dolls and Fisher-Price preschool products.

Advertisement

Amid uncertainty in the toy market and the fallout from tariffs, Mattel’s net income dropped 25% to $398 million in 2025. And since the company announced disappointing holiday sales totals in February, its stock has dropped more than 30%, closing at $14.34 on Wednesday.

“Masters of the Universe” toys at Mattel headquarters in El Segundo.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

The share price slide prompted investor Southeastern Asset Management to send a letter last month to Mattel leadership suggesting the toy maker should sell itself and go private. Southeastern manages about 4% of the company’s stock on behalf of its clients.

Advertisement

“The frustration among investors has been the fact that if you look at the business from 2021 through 2025 and even this year … the business really hasn’t grown,” said Eric Handler, a Roth Capital senior media and entertainment analyst, referring to Mattel. “This is a company that needed something fresh in the portfolio, and there’s a wide range of investments being made, of which ‘Masters of the Universe’ is one part.”

Kreiz pushed back on the idea that the company is not growing. In the fourth quarter of 2025, net sales were up 7% to $1.8 billion, though the result was not as strong as the company expected.

Mattel has spent $1.2 billion in the last three years to buy back shares, with an additional $1.5-billion share repurchase planned for the next three years.

“We’re investing in our own stock because we believe it is undervalued,” he told The Times in an interview at his office, which has floor-to-ceiling windows that give an expansive view of El Segundo. “We absolutely agree that the share price doesn’t reflect the progress that we’ve achieved over the last few years financially, operationally, our place in culture, the strength of our brands, and the continued expansion of the business. And more importantly, the potential that we have down the road.”

“Masters of the Universe” is a key variable in that equation.

Advertisement
Ynon Kreiz, chief executive of Mattel.

Ynon Kreiz, chief executive of Mattel.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

The movie, which had a budget of roughly $170 million, is expected to bring in $25 million to $35 million in the U.S. and Canada during its debut weekend. That’s a far cry from the $162-million opening haul of “Barbie,” but box-office analysts say that film captured the cultural zeitgeist in a way that’s hard to replicate.

The ‘80s-era “Masters of the Universe” is “a property that was famous with a certain group of fans, but it hasn’t had much of a pop culture presence,” said Shawn Robbins, who directs movie analytics at Fandango and founded the forecasting site Box Office Theory. The movie has notched a respectable 74% approval rating from critics on aggregator Rotten Tomatoes.

“There’s been so many callbacks to nostalgic franchises,” he said. “Some people are always on board for them, and maybe the positive reviews bring people in who were on the fence. But people are also ready for something fresh and new and exciting.”

Advertisement

Kreiz said he’s often asked how the company will match the success of “Barbie.”

“The answer is, we don’t need to match ‘Barbie’s’ success for movies to have a meaningful economic impact on the company,” he said. “Not every movie will be ‘Barbie.’ If we create quality content that people want to watch and create quality experiences that people are engaged with, good things happen, and these brands will resonate and will be here for years to come.”

While theatrical revenue is important, the measure of success for “Masters of the Universe” could also include its eventual reception on streaming platforms and, of course, toy sales, analysts said.

There are hundreds of products tied to the movie, from collectible action figures of Nicholas Galitzine’s He-Man and Camila Mendes’ Teela, to branded Uno decks, Legos, clothing and skateboards.

Skeletor from "Masters of the Universe."

Skeletor from “Masters of the Universe.”

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

“For us, it’s a huge win already,” said Robbie Brenner, president of Mattel Studios and chief content officer, who also served as a producer on the film. “We have reinvigorated and relaunched this brand that has been around for decades … and done it in a way with just the best-in-class toys. Obviously that’s our bread and butter. And then to have made an epic, incredible movie … is a huge win.”

While Mattel does not yet have sales totals for its “Masters of the Universe” toys, executives said during an earnings call in late April that product sales were “growing double digits” amid strong customer demand, particularly from adults.

When Kreiz was named CEO in 2018, he saw the potential for Mattel to expand beyond toys. In an entertainment landscape dominated by known franchises and intellectual property, the former TV and media executive wanted to leverage the company’s IP in new ways to attract consumers.

Hence, Mattel has expanded into real-world experiences such as a Barbie pop-up at Coachella or a traveling Hot Wheels monster truck show. In February, the company fully acquired Mattel163 mobile game studio after buying out a stake held by Chinese tech firm NetEase. The studio has released games based on Uno, Skip-Bo and other Mattel intellectual property.

Advertisement

And on the film and television front, the Mattel Studios division now has 51 people — most of whom are based in El Segundo — focused on projects across platforms.

After “Masters of the Universe,” Mattel Studios plans to release a “Matchbox” streaming movie in October. The division has more than a dozen films in development that have been announced, including an American Girl movie with Paramount, Polly Pocket with Amazon MGM Studios, as well as a live-action Magic 8 Ball series from M. Night Shyamalan.

“The journey for the company was to evolve from being a toy manufacturer that was making items to become an IP company that is managing franchises,” Kreiz said. “It’s not that we’re not creating toys — it’s obviously a big part of our business — but the opportunity is to expand so much more than the physical product.”

“Masters of the Universe” was in development for years at several different studios before it was picked up by Amazon MGM.

That partnership stemmed from Mattel’s work on the “Barbie” movie with Courtenay Valenti, then president of production and development at Warner Bros. Pictures who is now head of film at Amazon MGM.

Advertisement

“Masters of the Universe” felt like a good property for Mattel to bet on because of its nostalgia factor and deep bench of colorful characters, from the green tiger Battle Cat to the heavily armored Ram Man and ever meme-able Skeletor, which the company hopes will attract new audiences, Brenner said.

The movie is directed by Travis Knight — chief executive of stop-motion studio Laika who also led the 2018 “Transformers” spin-off “Bumblebee” — who Brenner said “nailed” the narrative’s tone. (It didn’t hurt that Knight was already a fan of the franchise and had sported the He-Man haircut as a child.)

“It’s a property that’s kind of out there,” said Brenner, who grew up watching He-Man and his twin sister She-Ra. “It’s got all these crazy characters. But just riding that line between what is funny and kind of irreverent and then kind of heartfelt, that is a very hard thing to put in a blender and to get right.”

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Movie Reviews

Movie Review: Paul Rudd and Nick Jonas hit the right notes in ‘Power Ballad’

Published

on

Movie Review: Paul Rudd and Nick Jonas hit the right notes in ‘Power Ballad’

Let’s just say that the wedding band has never occupied the most exalted rung of the ladder in music.

Playing “September” and “Celebration” is often what’s most required. As one member of the Bride and the Groove, the band at the center of John Carney’s new film, puts it: They’re not rock stars. They’re human jukeboxes.

But in “Power Ballad,” a wedding band singer and pop star cross paths. For one night, all of the stratification of the music world falls away. “Power Ballad” starts like a fairy tale.

Since 2007’s “Once,” the Irish writer-director has focused his films on the redemptive capacity of music. Carney, who was once a bassist for the Frames, knows from experience. From “Sing Street” to “Flora and Son,” he has made unabashedly earnest tales where a song, or just picking up an instrument, changes lives.

This can, undoubtedly, lead Carney into sentimental territory. Lucky for him, his chosen subject — music — is more worthy of sentiment than almost anything else. Yet the song doesn’t quite remain the same in “Power Ballad,” a movie that begins with the gentle sweetness Carney is known for, but detours into something more discordant.

Advertisement

Rick (Paul Rudd) is an American musician who gave up on his once-promising rock band’s future to instead live with his wife (Marcella Plunkett) and teenage daughter (a spunky, underused Beth Fallon) in Dublin. His former group was called Octagon, a perfect former band name if there ever were one.

But for years, Rick has fronted the Bride and the Groove. It’s an unromantic day job (or rather a night one) that hasn’t entirely sapped his belief in his own songwriting. During an encore at one wedding, he plays an original tune and is mentally transported to an arena full of swaying fans. When he snaps out of it, he’s staring at an empty dance floor and faces that say: That wasn’t Kool & the Gang.

At another wedding at at a castle, the band is asked to let a friend of the newlyweds sit in. They reluctantly agree, and are surprised to see the very popular boy band veteran, Danny (Nick Jonas), step on stage. He sings Stevie Wonder’s “I Wish,” and it’s great. Though Rick had just dismissed Danny’s music as “manufactured content for young, excitable teens,” he discovers Danny is a genuine musician.

But, later that night, something even more remarkable transpires. Rick bumps into Danny, and the two quickly hit it off. They begin jamming together and sharing songs that need work. They are both so jazzed by their unlikely collaboration that they play into the next morning.

The actual moment of artistic creation, and the craft it requires, is something the movies almost always skip over. But capturing collaborative juices flowing is exactly what Carney excels at. You can feel his joy in it. So it’s fitting that one of the unfinished songs Rick plays for Danny, “How to Write a Song (Without You),” is about creative invention.

Advertisement

It’s here when you wonder where “Power Ballad” is headed. Is this, for Rick, the beginning of a beautiful friendship? Will they turn into the next great songwriting duo, lifting Rick out of weddings and proving to the world that Danny is more than a boy-band pretty face?

That is very possibly the movie Carney might have made a decade ago. But “Power Ballad,” which he co-wrote with Peter McDonald (who also co-stars as a band member), shifts six months ahead in time. Rick is standing in a shopping mall when the familiar lyrics of “How to Write a Song” softly float through the stores. He stands dumbfounded in the gleaming halls of commerce, a befuddlement that slowly turns into outrage the bigger and bigger Danny’s smash hit grows.

“Power Ballad” loses some of its steam in its second half, which follows Rick’s struggle for justice. Making things considerably harder is that he can find no recorded demo of the song. His family and his band don’t even really believe him.

But even as the movie struggles to sustain its opening refrain, Carney’s film is always riffing on ideas of authenticity and aspiration in music. That Jonas is, himself, a former boy band star who has at times gone it alone, lends the movie a direct connection to contemporary music, where tussles over authorship are increasingly common.

Jonas has been good in other films (notably the “Jumanji” movies), but this is his most ambitious and convincing performance to date. It’s a testament to the movie that Danny’s theft isn’t a purely villainous act. He gives the song a bridge and the vocal power to take it to another level. He’s under mounting pressure from his label to deliver a hit. An executive (Jack Reynor) wants “Danny 2.0” but has little faith he can supply it.

Advertisement

But it’s an even more well-tailored role for Rudd. He memorably and very goofily played a bassist in the 2009 comedy “I Love You, Man.” But while he sings well, it’s not his musical chops that lift the performance. It’s more that Rick, a contented family man with unrealized rock-star dreams, gives the exceptionally genial Rudd more notes to play as an actor. Rudd makes for a very likeable everyman out to convince the world he is capable of a beautiful song.

And that’s the abiding belief of Carney’s. No matter all the struggles, the artistic injustices, the corporate hegemony, he still believes that if you make something truly soulful, it will break through. It will claw its way to the surface, and move people. It’s undoubtedly gotten harder since “Once,” this movie seems to admit. The world is against you. But what one person can offer, a ballad or otherwise, still has power. Fairy tale or not, that’s worth believing in.

“Power Ballad,” a Lionsgate release in theaters Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “language throughout and some drug use.” Running time: 108 minutes. Three stars out of four.

Advertisement
Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending