How To Get Away With "Love & Murder"

Every once in a while, a rare musical comes along that offers the perfect blend of theatrical sensibilities. "A Gentleman's Guide To Love & Murder" is the best of both worlds: a rollicking, old-fashioned spectacle full of great singing and period costumes as well as a subversive commentary on upward mobility full of macabre humor and scenic sleight of hand. While homages to other Victorian-esque works are plentiful and the wordplay is inspired, a few of the establishing numbers do err on the side of being too sing-songy.

By the time the aspiring, disavowed Monty sets his plan into motion to acquire his rightful inheritance and social status, the score becomes more rich and dynamic -- almost a reflection of his fractured, spiraling sense of duty versus morality. The real standout, though, is actor John Rapson, who plays every member of the wealthy and targeted D'Ysquith family through a series of quick-changes. His deft characterizations clearly delineate each person's voice and mannerisms, stealing an already memorable show right out from under its other capable leads. Ultimately, it would be impolite to call the show perfect, so let's settle for A Well-Crafted Guide To Fun & Farce.

Take A Watch On The Wild Side

Bolstered by its clever, character-driven marketing campaign, "Deadpool" is a refreshing antidote to most big-studio action movies. Yes, it's based on a comic book, but I hesitate to call it a superhero movie simply because Deadpool is just a guy with powers who tries to do the right thing -- often in the worst way possible. After a brilliant opening credits sequence, what's left of the fourth wall is regularly punctured by Deadpool's snarky, self-aware meta-commentary. Played with the perfect level of charismatic candor by Ryan Reynolds, "Deadpool" takes us on a crash-course through his origin story and fellow characters to firmly cement his place among the rest of the tamer Marvel Comics universe.

Much has been made of the film's R-rating, but despite the presence of language, sex, and violence, it's not a license for gratuitous exploitation. Instead, the film is true to the sharper edges of the character and the source material without resorting to the gross, immature giggles that have been dumbing down Hollywood action movies for years. The inevitable sequel appears to be setting up further, more obscure reaches of the Marvel mythology, but now we have proof that these are smart filmmakers who are in tune with fans and the audience at large. I'm sure Deadpool will hold up just fine on his own.

Rihanna Ups The "Anti" With A Bold Album

Rihanna's first 7 albums were released over 7 consecutive years, so imagine the surprise and anticipation when more than 3 years (an eternity by industry standards) passed after 2012's "Unapologetic." Thankfully, the break gave Rihanna a chance to explore her own musical style and incorporate some strong influences. The resulting album, "ANTI," is drastically different than what we've come to expect from a pop star of this magnitude, and that's definitely a compliment.

"ANTI" takes everything that's unmistakably Rihanna and strips it to her pure, raw essence with edgy vocals and moody instrumentation. Lead single "Work" and bonus track "Pose" are the most reminiscent of her previous records, but the ride doesn't stop there. Standout songs include the swirling, almost psychedelic guitar riffs of "Kiss It Better" and the one-two punch of "Love On The Brain" and "Higher," where Rihanna sings with a bluesy, soulful range that is thrillingly unexpected and genuinely effective.

Rihanna has dabbled with introspection on past tracks like "Russian Roulette" and "California King Bed," but the entirety of this album finds her embracing the liberation of transparency and meeting resistance with potent lyrical firepower. While there's nothing wrong with her crowd-moving, dance-inducing earlier works, "ANTI" resonates considerably more because it reflects Rihanna's courage to focus on the music and the voice behind the pop.

The Handler Way Or The Highway

Chelsea Handler is a "bad girl" with a heart of gold. Underneath all of her snark about headline news and celebrities is an honest search for knowledge about the intricacies of our needlessly complicated culture. In short, when is it OK to laugh at things that are taken so seriously? "Chelsea Does," her new documentary series on Netflix, is the perfect vehicle to showcase that quest. Over the span of four, one-hour segments, Handler tackles the hot-button issues of marriage, technology, racism, and drugs with the same passionate insights she brings to her other projects.

Rather than just riffing on the talking points through stand-up comedy, Handler digs deep to gather and share multiple perspectives via roundtable discussions with public figures, interviews with experts, and her own personal interactions with the subject matter. (Highlights there include her officiating a Vegas wedding as well as developing and pitching a clever smartphone app.) "Chelsea Does" succeeds by letting Chelsea do what she does best: using her sharp mind and wit to unlock the truth (and the humanity) behind these otherwise unfunny topics.