C’mere Wolf Boy

I know what some of you are thinking: “Negro with an igga, you been ghost for more than a week and you come back blogging about this shit?”

Look, I’ve been working hard on…other things. Plus, if I’m being perfectly honest, ideas were a little scarce as I hit up various editors with pitch after pitch in order to avoid hitting the pole and potentially catching a permanent itch.

But hey, it’s better than not posting, right?

Probably not if I’m coming back talking about a movie called Wolf Boy, huh?

Well whatever, I might actually see this. Probably not because this looks like a cinematic masterpiece or anything. Full disclosure: I only clicked on the trailer because the preview image on the homepage of World Star Hip Hip was of Romeo Miller with his shirt off.

Now that he’s allowed to buy us a drink without catching a club a case, I can say that without shame.

In theory, I support the idea of black filmmakers going for the genre less traveled. Not every film needs to depress me or try and make me laugh at a joke only funny to people who can’t define the word stereotype without stuttering. At the same time, though, I’m not sure what to make of a movie called Wolf Boy starring Master P’s kid.

There’s only two scenarios for such a flick: Either you’ll be surprisingly entertained or predictably pissed off you didn’t use your time better — like say, pouring Four Loko into your ear for the hell of it.

Show of hands: Who plans on watching this on YouTube in six or seven months? And am I the only one who clicked on the link for incredibly shallow yet still very much satisfying reasons?

Be honest even if you’ll be clowned for it the way I’m sure some of you are about to clown me.