GRADE: B–

Ice Cube, Tracy Morgan and Katt Williams team up in “First Sunday.” A rare film that manages to be sickeningly warm and fuzzy while still legitimately funny.

First Sunday doesn’t have the sophisticated wit of Barbershop or the charm of Friday. However, it generates enough genuine belly-laughs to make it watchable. The cast (primarily, the under-utilized Katt Williams) save the film from the after school special that first-time Director David E. Talbert has set up. The plot follows Ice Cube as Durell, a down and out father who needs to raise money to keep his babymomma from taking his son away to Atlanta. Meanwhile, his scheming friend (and serial codefendant) LeeJohn (played by 30 Rock’s Tracey Morgan) is in deep debt to some Jamaican gangsters after he loses their chrome-plated wheelchairs. So, what can they do? Break into a church and take the building fund. The whole set up feels like 2 parts Tyler Perry play, 2 parts Jerry Springer.

The movie doesn’t really take off until the secondary characters are brought in. Once inside the church, Durell and LeeJohn discover that there are several meetings going on that night and decide to hold all of the church personnel hostage until they find the money. The choir directer (Katt Williams), Pastor (Chi McBride), his daughter (Malinda Williams), Deacon (Michel Beach) and a few church ladies (Loretta Devine, Ricky Smiley, Olivia Cole) are the only ones that matter. Somehow, the presence of Katt Williams suddenly makes the movie tolerable, even enjoyable.

The whole film is painfully predictable, preachy, infeasible and completely inaccurate in terms of the American legal system. However, the cast is superb to the point that you will wonder what made them accept this dull script. The saving grace of First Sunday is the fact that it is a comedy. In that regard, the plot is no more ridiculous than Billy Madison or National Lampoon’s Vacation. It’s the kind of movie that is charming and funny enough to make you look past it’s tragic flaws and just enjoy yourself.

GRADE: B

Snoop Dogg has a new pseudo-reality show on VH-1. But Snoop Dogg’s Father Hood feels more like a Curb Your Enthusiasm style improvisational show than a reality show.

Perhaps comparing this show to Curb is a bit hasty. Snoop is funny guy and thankfully the show’s initial episodes place him clever situations. However, it feels like something is missing. There is a dryness to Father Hood that leaves the viewer feeling unfufilled.

David Beckham’s fish-out-of-water guest appearnce is interesting. Snoop’s trip to the accupuncturist is funnier than it sounds and his whole family is likeable. Snoop Dogg’s Father Hood is a show worth watching, but after some retooling could actually be pretty damn good.

GRADE: A–

The phrase “concept album” has always left an uneasy feeling in the stomachs of Hip Hoppers. Since the late 80’s, rappers have tried (and almost always failed) to create truly interesting albums that follow closely on one theme. Then, in late 2007, Lupe Fiasco’s mentor Jay-Z did the unthinkable. Jigga released one of his best albums ever, the concept project “American Gangster.”

The comparison between Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool and Jay-Z’s Gangster is not as much of a stretch as it may seem. Sonically, both albums find a similar place in your eardrums. The grand orchestration, heavy use of pianos and dense drums that stir up feelings of a lost era in east coast hip hop are equally present in both. As well are the intricate rhyme patterns and complex verbiage that the two emcees have become known for. With so much in common, it’s ironic that Lupe’s concept is almost an exact opposition to Jay-Z’s.

There is nothing Gangster about The Cool. If anything, the album’s confusing and almost nonsensical concept was developed to persuade listeners away from the trappings of the “trap house.” The concept itself has something to do with the character Lupe developed in his debut album on the song titled “The Cool.” Then there is also something about a rotting hand and Alexander the Great and some other stuff that will probably never make sense to anyone but Lupe Fiasco. That being said, Lupe is an exceptionally clever artist. On “Gotta Eat” he manages to develop a thought provoking metaphor from a cheeseburger and somehow not sound totally ridiculous.

The concept for this album may be all over the place, but unlike many albums of this nature, his execution is flawless. The album will not resonate with all listeners, but it doesn’t need to. It doesn’t strive to fit in or appeal to the masses. Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool is art in it’s purest form… and isn’t that what music needs right now?