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The cultural significance of the catchy ‘Moana 2’ song 'Can I Get a Chee Hoo?'

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The cultural significance of the catchy ‘Moana 2’ song 'Can I Get a Chee Hoo?'

“Can I get a Chee Hoo?”

It’s a question that the demigod Maui tunefully poses to the titular princess in “Moana 2.” But this seemingly simple request is steeped in cultural tradition, notable in narrative context and, given its catchy hook, likely to become Disney’s next inescapable earworm.

The charismatic composition — performed with gusto by Dwayne Johnson — is indeed worth shouting about, especially on the heels of the beloved numbers of the 2016 movie, which were written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Mark Mancina and Opetaia Foa‘i. “The first one was great to introduce this culture to the world, and I’m very proud of what we achieved,” said Foa‘i.

“The songs of a second movie have got to be either as good as the first movie or better,” said Mancina, who co-wrote the sequel‘s songs with Foa‘i, Abigail Barlow and Emily Bear. “If they don’t have integrity, kids can tell: This is just a money grab.”

The animated adventure picks up three years after the events of the first movie: Moana, now a seasoned “wayfinder,” respected community leader and an older sister, answers a call from her ancestors to venture further than ever before, all to try to secure her island’s future well-being.

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“This time, the story also is all about that aspect of growth of trying to plan where you’re going and wanting to stay the exact course, but really understanding that life will throw curve balls and challenges your way, and you can lean on your crew to help you through it,” said returning actor Auli’i Cravalho, who voices Moana.

“Moana 2” picks up three years after the events of the first movie, with Moana now an older sister.

(Disney)

A standout song, “Can I Get a Chee Hoo?” is performed more than halfway into the movie, when Moana is deeply discouraged about facing Nalo, the god of storms.

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“In the first movie, Maui met Moana when he was at his lowest and most vulnerable, and she empowered him and helped him reach his full potential,” said David Derrick Jr., one of the sequel’s three directors. “We wanted Maui to return that favor to Moana, but in the most entertaining way possible.”

“Can I Get a Chee Hoo?” is an upbeat, percussion-driven track with shades of a rock anthem that also offers a retro instrumental solo (a blend of a jazz flute and various synths, delivered by Maui via fire conch). It was the last song written for the movie, replacing another number that didn’t quite reflect where Moana was in that moment, or how much Maui cares for her.

“Everything we were doing was either too cheesy or abstract, or it sounded like a s— motivational speech that we were copying from YouTube,” said Bear. “How do we make this cool and not cringy, and still authentic to this character and his friendship with Moana?

“When I’m at my lowest and I feel like nothing anyone will say to me will make me feel better, I don’t need a motivational speech, I need a dose of reality,” Bear continued. With this song, “Maui essentially tells Moana, ‘Stop doubting yourself, because the enemy you’re up against doesn’t doubt you. He wouldn’t waste his time trying to stop you if they didn’t think you were capable of beating him.’”

A man and a woman stand on the beach next to a wooden ship, looking toward the camera

Maui reminds Moana of who she is in the new song “Can I Get a Chee Hoo?”

(Disney)

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Maui musically lifts Moana up by reminding her of who she is, applauding her innate greatness and then challenging her to do the same for herself. How? “With a rallying cry of epic proportions,” said Barlow.

This specific phrase — already exclaimed often by Maui throughout the first film — is a fa’aumu or an expression of emotion in Samoan culture, and it holds great significance throughout Pacific Island communities at large.

“I think how it’s represented in the film reflects how it’s actually used today,” said Grant Muāgututi’a, a Samoan linguist and dialect coach who worked on the movie. “It’s like your heart’s showing. The most common contemporary use is to show support at a special occasion — a performance, a football game, a wedding or a funeral.”

“It’s such an important celebratory cheer, like our version of ‘hip hip hooray,’” added Cravalho. “As soon as fireworks go off on New Year’s Eve, you can hear Chee Hoos all across the island. It’s almost like a call-and-response. Any time there’s a graduation and there is a Pacific Islander who steps up onstage, you can bet we are Chee Hoo-ing the loudest.”

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The “Moana 2” song adopts this Pacific Islander greeting as a life ethos, similar to how “Hakuna Matata” frames a Swahili translation as a personal motto in “The Lion King.” “We wanted to make sure that nothing we do is too silly,” said Mancina, who worked on both songs, “but that it’s still really fun.”

Adapting the culturally significant phrase for an anticipated Disney movie initially made co-director Dana Ledoux Miller nervous.

“It’s something I take very seriously and have had a lot of conversations about, mostly because I wanted to make sure that, in using it, it was a celebration and used in a positive way,” she said. “Knowing that it would mean a lot to a lot of people, we didn’t want to get it wrong. It was exciting to be able to move with that mindfulness through this collaboration and create something that’s so fun. I feel so proud of the care that we took in this.”

In order to get it all right, “Moana 2” directors Derrick and Ledoux Miller — both of whom are of Samoan descent — and Jason Hand created the film with numerous culturally authentic elements, thanks to the movie’s Oceanic Cultural Trust, a group of 13 experts in anthropology, history, movement, canoes and navigation, linguistics and various cultural practices.

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“I think that, by showing more moments where we lean into the specificity of culture, the audience leans in too, because it grounds our story in a real way,” said Derrick. To him, a song like “Can I Get a Chee Hoo?” is proof that “being specific with culture doesn’t have to be a weighty moment. It can be uplighting and fun and joyous.”

“It’s awesome to be part of all these brilliant minds, working together to make the movie as resonant and respectful as possible,” added Muāgututi’a, a member of the Oceanic Cultural Trust. “When things like ‘Chee Hoo’ are shared in a way that’s accurate and inclusive, it’s less appropriation and more appreciation. It’s all love.”

The trust consulted on many key moments that illustrate Moana’s culture as well as her character‘s growth: her participation in a kava ceremony for a new title, the further progression of her wayfinding abilities and her pivotal performance of a haka, a ceremonial dance and chant. “I’ve never done a haka before, so I was so into it,” said Cravalho of filming the scene. “I put my whole chest into it and it felt so good!”

A girl dances and makes a face.

The “Moana 2” Oceanic Cultural Trust consulted on many aspects of the film, including a fun dance battle.

(Disney)

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And in “Can I Get a Chee Hoo?,” Moana is shown performing siva afi, or fire-knife dancing. “It’s something that you only see men do,” said animation reference choreographer Tiana Nonosina Liufau. “When I was physically doing it [as a model for the film’s animators], I really felt so empowered. So to think about Moana doing it in this moment when she’s feeling down, and especially that you don’t usually see women doing it, I think she leaves that song feeling a lot of power.”

“We were obsessed with getting that right,” said Hand of replicating Liufau’s physicality for the fire-dancing sequence. “Those moves all mean something, so it’s really important to do it properly. Our animators really paid close attention to all that work that she did.”

According to Hand, Johnson “got goosebumps when he first heard” “Can I Get a Chee Hoo?” In the recording booth, Bear encouraged the actor to imagine he was singing directly to his daughter: “If you saw her in this position, how would you want to deliver this message to her? It’d be full of heart.”

With “Moana 2” now in theaters, “We’re probably going to see a lot of young kids shouting ‘Chee Hoo’ all over the place,” said Foa‘i with a laugh. For Moana actor Cravalho, that’s a thrilling thought.

“I’ve had a decade with this character, and the impact she continues to have is almost overwhelming for me,” she said. “It’s truly so important to see a young woman be the hero of her own story, and I feel great pride that our specificities get shared with the masses because Disney puts them on a larger platform. So to people who are not of Pacific Island descent but still find themselves in this character or other characters in this film, I say thank you.”

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A whale swims alongside people on a boat.

Moana goees on an adventure with a new crew in “Moana 2.”

(Disney)

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Review: ‘Best Medicine’ has more whimsy but it’s less real than ‘Doc Martin’

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Review: ‘Best Medicine’ has more whimsy but it’s less real than ‘Doc Martin’

It’s nothing new or extraordinary to remake a foreign TV show for a different country.

“All in the Family” was modeled on the British series “Till Death Us Do Part,” as “Steptoe and Son” became “Sanford and Son.” The popular CBS sitcom “Ghosts” comes from the show you can find retitled as “U.K. Ghosts” on American Netflix. The British mysteries “Professor T” and “Patience” (from Belgian and Franco-Belgian productions, respectively), have been successful on PBS. And there is, of course, “The Office,” which outlasted its original by many, many seasons and nearly 200 episodes. It doesn’t always work out (“Life on Mars”; “Viva Laughlin,” from “Blackpool,” which lasted a single episode despite starring Hugh Jackman; “Payne” and “Amanda’s,” two failed stabs at adapting “Fawlty Towers”), but there’s nothing inherently wrong with the practice.

The new Fox series “Best Medicine,” arriving Sunday as an advance premiere before its time slot premiere on Tuesdays, remakes the U.K. “Doc Martin,” previously adapted in France, Germany, Spain, Greece, the Netherlands and the Czech Republic. For better or worse, I have a long, admiring relationship with the original, having signed on early and attended every season in turn — and interviewed star Martin Clunes three times across the run of the series (10 seasons from 2004 to 2022). And I am surely not alone. Unlike with most such remakes, whose models may be relatively obscure to the local audience, “Doc Martin” has long been widely available here; you can find it currently on PBS, Acorn TV and Prime Video, among other platforms — and I recommend that you do.

In “Doc Martin,” Clunes played a brilliant London surgeon who develops a blood phobia and becomes a general practitioner in the Cornwall fishing village where he spent summers as a child. He’s a terse, stiff, antisocial — or, more precisely, non-social — person who doesn’t stand on ceremony or suffer fools gladly, but who time and again saves the people of Portwenn from life-threatening conditions and accidents or, often, their own foolishness. A slow-developing, on-again, off-again love-and-marriage arc with schoolteacher Louisa Glasson, played by the divine Caroline Catz, made every season finale a cliffhanger.

Obviously, the fair thing would be to take “Best Medicine” as completely new. But assuming that some reading this will want to know how it follows, differs from or compares to the original — which was certainly the first thing on my mind — let us count the ways.

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Josh Segarra, Josh Charles and Abigail Spencer in “Best Medicine.”

(Francisco Roman/FOX)

The names have mostly not been changed. For no clear reason — numerology, maybe? — Martin Ellingham is now Martin Best (Josh Charles); Aunt Joan is Aunt Sarah (Annie Potts), a fisherwoman instead of a farmer. Sally Tishell, the pharmacist in a neck brace, has become Sally Mylow (Clea Lewis); and distracted receptionist Elaine Denham has been rechristened Elaine Denton (Cree). Keeping their full names are Louisa Gavin (Abigail Spencer), father and son handymen Bert (John DiMaggio) and Al Large (Carter Shimp), and peace officer Mark Mylow (Josh Segarra). Portwenn has become Port Wenn, Maine. (Lobsters are once again on the menu.)

As in the original, Martin is hounded by dogs (no pun intended, seriously), to his displeasure; teenagers are rude to him, because they are rude teenagers. Mark Mylow is now Louisa’s recently jilted ex-fiance. Liz Tuccillo, who developed the adaptation, has added a gay couple, George (Jason Veasey) and Greg (Stephen Spinella), who run the local eatery and inn and have a pet pig named Brisket (sensitive of them not to name it Back Ribs); and Glendon Ross (Patch Darragh), a well-to-do blowhard who bullied Martin in his youth. Apart from the leads Charles and Spencer, few have much to do other than strike a quirky pose, though Segarra, recently familiar as school district representative Manny Rivera on “Abbott Elementary,” makes a meal of Mark’s every line, and Cree, who gets a lot of scenes and a personal plotline, makes a charming impression. Spencer is good company; Potts, whom I am always happy to see, is more an instrument of exposition than a full-blown character, and it feels a little unfair.

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The first episode is modeled closely on the “Doc Martin” pilot, from Martin and Louisa’s antagonistic meet cute — in which he offends her, leaning in unannounced to examine her eye — to the episode’s main medical mystery (gynecomastia), a punch in the nose for our hero. Other details and plotlines will arrive, but there has been an attempt to give “Best Medicine” its own identity and original stories.

On the whole, it’s cuter, milder, more cuddly (multiple vomit jokes notwithstanding), more obvious and more whimsical, but less real, less intense and less sharply written than “Doc Martin.” The edges and angles have been sanded down and polished; tonally, it resembles “Northern Exposure” more than the show it’s adapting. Port Wenn (represented by the coincidentally named Cornwall, N.Y., with a wide part of the Hudson River subbing for the Atlantic Ocean) itself comes across as comparatively upscale; the doctor’s office and quarters are here plushly appointed, rather than spare, functional and a little shopworn.

As Martin, Charles stiffens himself and keeps his facial expressions generally between neutral and annoyed, though he’s softer than Clunes, less a prisoner of his own body, less abrasive, less otherworldly. Where Dr. Ellingham remained to a large degree inexplicable — the series expressly refused to diagnose him — Tuccillo has given Dr. Best a quickly revealed childhood trauma to account for his blood phobia and make him more conventionally sympathetic.

I freely admit that in judging “Best Medicine,” my familiarity with “Doc Martin” puts me at a disadvantage — or an advantage, I suppose, depending on how you look at it. But taken on its own merits it strikes me as a rather obvious, perfectly ordinary example of a sort of show we’ve often seen before, a feel-good celebration of small town values and traditions and togetherness that will presumably improve the personality of its oddball new resident, as the townspeople come to accept or tolerate him anyway in turn. In the first four episodes, we get a celebration of baked beans, a town-consuming baseball championship and a once-a-year day when the women of Port Wenn doll themselves off and go out into the woods to meet a jacked, shirtless, off-the-grid he-man, right off the cover of a romance novel, who steps out of the forest, ostensibly to provide wilderness training. It’s like that.

All in all, “Best Medicine” lives very much in a television reality, rather than creating a reality that just happens to be on television. To be sure, some will prefer the former to the latter.

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‘The Tank’ Review: A War Film More Abstract Than Brutal (Prime Video) – Micropsia

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‘The Tank’ Review: A War Film More Abstract Than Brutal (Prime Video) – Micropsia

The Tiger Is the Tank. Or rather, the type of German tank that gives the film its international title—just in case anyone might confuse this war story with an adventure movie involving wild animals. The tank itself is the film’s container, much as The Boat was in the legendary 1981 film it openly seeks to emulate in more than one respect, or as the more recent tank was in the Israeli film Lebanon (2009). Yes, much of Dennis Gansel’s movie unfolds inside a tank called Tiger, but what it is ultimately trying to tell goes well beyond its cramped metal walls.

This large-scale Prime Video war production has been described by many as the platform’s answer to Netflix’s success with All Quiet on the Western Front, the highly decorated German film released in 2022. In practice, it is a very different proposition. Despite the fanfare surrounding its release—Amazon even gave it a theatrical run a few months ago, something it rarely does—the film made a far more modest impact. Watching it, the reasons become clear. This is a darker, stranger movie, one that flirts as much with horror as with monotony, and that positions itself less as a traditional war film than as an ethical and philosophical meditation on warfare.

The first section—an intense and technically impressive combat sequence—takes place during what would later be known as the Battle of the Dnieper, which unfolded over several months in 1943 on the Eastern Front, as Soviet forces pushed back the Nazi advance. Der Tiger is the type of tank carrying a compact platoon—played by David Schütter, Laurence Rupp, Leonard Kunz, Sebastian Urzendowsky, and Yoran Leicher—that miraculously survives the aerial destruction of a bridge over the river.

Soon afterward—or so it seems—the group is assigned a mission that, at least in its initial setup, recalls Saving Private Ryan. Lieutenant Gerkens (Schütter) is ordered to rescue Colonel Von Harnenburg, stranded behind enemy lines. From there, the film becomes a journey through an infernal landscape of ruined cities, corpses, forests, and fog—a setting that, thanks to the way it is shot, feels more fantastical than realistic.

That choice is no accident. As the journey begins to echo Apocalypse Now, it becomes clear that the film is less interested in conventional suspense—mines on the road, the threat of ambush—than in the strangeness of its situations and environments. When the tank plunges into the water and briefly operates like a submarine, one may reasonably wonder whether such technology actually existed in the 1940s, or whether the film has deliberately drifted into a more extravagant, symbolic territory.

This is the kind of film whose ending is likely to inspire more frustration than affection. Though heavily foreshadowed, it is the sort of conclusion that tends to irritate audiences: cryptic, somewhat open-ended, and more suggestive than explicit. That makes sense, given that the film is less concerned with depicting the daily mechanics of war than with grappling with its aftermath—ethical, moral, psychological, and physical.

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In its own way, The Tank functions as a kind of mea culpa. The platoon becomes a microcosm of a nation that “followed orders” and committed—or allowed to be committed—horrific acts in its name. The flashbacks scattered throughout the film make this point unmistakably clear. The problem is that, while these ideas may sound compelling when summarized in a few sentences (or in a review), the film never manages to turn them into something fully alive—narratively, visually, or dramatically.

Only in brief moments—largely thanks to Gerkens’s perpetually worried, anguished expression—do those ideas achieve genuine cinematic weight. They are not enough, however, to sustain a two-hour runtime that increasingly feels repetitive and inert. Unlike the films by Steven Spielberg, Wolfgang Petersen, Francis Ford Coppola, and others it so clearly references, The Tank remains closer to a concept than to a drama, more an intriguing reflection than a truly effective film.


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Electric violinist sues Will Smith, alleging sexual harassment, wrongful termination

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Electric violinist sues Will Smith, alleging sexual harassment, wrongful termination

Will Smith and his company Treyball Studios Management Inc. are being sued by an electric violinist who is claiming wrongful termination, retaliation and sexual harassment — allegations denied by the actor-rapper-producer in a statement from his attorney.

Brian King Joseph alleges in a lawsuit filed earlier this week that Smith hired him to perform on the 2025 Based on a True Story tour, then fired him before the tour began in earnest in Europe and the U.K.

Joseph, who finished third in Season 13 of “America’s Got Talent,” went onto Instagram in the days before filing his lawsuit and posted a Dec. 27 video saying that he had been hired for “a major, major tour with somebody who is huge in the industry” but “some things happened” that he couldn’t discuss because it was a legal matter.

Electric violinist Brian King Joseph, seen performing at an awards show last October, is suing for wrongful termination, retaliation and sexual harassment.

(Tommaso Boddi / Getty Images for Media Access Awards)

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But, he said, “Getting fired or getting blamed or shamed or threatened or anything like that, simply for reporting sexual misconduct or safety threats at work, is not OK. And I know that there’s a lot of other people out there who have been afraid to speak up, and I understand. If that’s you, I see you. … More updates to come soon.”

In the lawsuit, filed Tuesday in Los Angeles County Superior Court and reviewed by The Times, Joseph alleges that he and Smith struck up a professional relationship in November 2024, after which Joseph performed at two of Smith’s shows in San Diego and was invited to perform on several tracks for Smith’s “Based on a True Story” album, which was released March 28.

After the performances in San Diego, Joseph posted video of a show on Instagram with the caption, “What an honor to share the stage with such legends and a dream team of musicians. From playing in the streets to sharing my music on stages like this, this journey has been nothing short of magic — and this is just the beginning. Grateful beyond words for every single person who made this possible.”

While working on the album, the lawsuit alleges, “Smith and [Joseph] began spending additional time alone, with Smith even telling [Joseph] that ‘You and I have such a special connection, that I don’t have with anyone else,’ and other similar expressions indicating his closeness to [Joseph].”

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Joseph soon joined Smith and crew for a performance in Las Vegas, the lawsuit says — on March 20 at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay — with Smith’s team booking rooms for everyone involved. Joseph left his bag, which contained his room key, in a van that took performers to rehearsal, and then the bag went missing for a couple of hours after he requested someone get it for him, the suit says.

When Joseph returned to his room late that night, according to the complaint, he found evidence that someone had entered his room without his permission.

“The evidence included a handwritten note addressed to Plaintiff by name, which read ‘Brian, I’ll be back no later [sic] 5:30, just us (drawn heart), Stone F.,’” the document says. “Among the remaining belongings were wipes, a beer bottle, a red backpack, a bottle of HIV medication with another individual’s name, an earring, and hospital discharge paperwork belonging to a person unbeknownst to Plaintiff.”

Joseph worried that “an unknown individual would soon return to his room to engage in sexual acts” with him, the complaint says.

It adds that Joseph, “concerned for his safety and the safety of his fellow performers and crew,” alerted hotel security and representatives for Treyball and Smith, took pictures, requested a new room and reported the incident to police using a non-emergency line. Hotel security found no signs of forced entry, and Joseph flew home the next day.

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Several days later, rather than being called on to join the next part of the tour, a Treyball representative told him the tour was “going in a different direction,” the lawsuit says, and that his services were no longer needed. The representative “redirected the blame for the termination onto [Joseph], replying, ‘I don’t know, you tell me, because everyone is telling me that what happened to you is a lie, nothing happened, and you made the whole thing up. So, tell me, why did you lie and make this up?’ [Joseph], shocked at the accusation, had nothing further to say,” as he believed the reports and evidence from Las Vegas spoke for themselves.

Joseph alleges in the lawsuit that as a result of events in Las Vegas and in the days immediately afterward, he suffered severe emotional distress, economic loss and harm to his reputation. He also alleges that the stress of losing the job caused his health to deteriorate and that he suffered PTSD and other mental illness after the termination.

“The facts strongly suggest that Defendant Willard Carroll Smith II was deliberately grooming and priming Mr. Joseph for further sexual exploitation,” the lawsuit alleges. “The sequence of events, Smith’s prior statements to Plaintiff, and the circumstances of the hotel intrusion all point to a pattern of predatory behavior rather than an isolated incident.”

The Times was unable to reach publicists or a lawyer for Will Smith because of the holiday. However, Smith attorney Allen B. Grodsky told Fox News on Thursday that “Mr. Joseph’s allegations concerning my client are false, baseless and reckless. They are categorically denied, and we will use all legal means available to address these claims and to ensure that the truth is brought to light.”

Joseph’s attorney, Jonathan J. Delshad, recently filed sexual assault civil suits against Tyler Perry on behalf of actors who say they were not hired for future work by the billionaire movie and TV producer after they rejected his alleged advances.

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Joseph is seeking compensatory and punitive damages and payment of attorney fees in an amount to be determined at trial.

The Based on a True Story tour played 26 dates in Europe and the U.K. last summer. Nine of the acts were headlining gigs, while the rest were festivals.

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