LaShawn Daniels, a Grammy Award-winning songwriter who penned songs for Beyoncé, Whitney Houston and Lady Gaga has died. He was 41.
Daniels' wife April said in a statement that her husband died in a car accident Tuesday in South Carolina. He earned a Grammy in 2001 for his songwriting work on Destiny Child's "Say My Name."
Daniels co-wrote several Grammy-nominated songs including Tamar Braxton's "Love and War," Toni Braxton's "He Wasn't Man Enough" and "The Boy is Mine," a track featuring Brandy and Monica.
He also contributed on Beyoncé's "Telephone," Jennifer Lopez's "If You Had My Love" and Michael Jackson's "You Rock My World."
April Daniels called her husband a "man of extraordinary faith and a pillar in our family."
We have by now become accustomed to the lengths some movie characters will go to keep a good comedy lie going. But it's still a special kind of feat when Amy Schumer, playing a baby-mad single woman who fakes a baby bump in "Kinda Pregnant," is so desperate to maintain the fiction that she shoves a roast turkey up her dress.
You might be thinking: This is too ridiculous. The stuffing, alone. But if we bought "Some Like it Hot" and "Mrs. Doubtfire," I see no reason to quibble with the set-up of "Kinda Pregnant," a funny and often perceptive satire on motherhood, both real and pretend.
"Kinda Pregnant," which debuted Wednesday on Netflix, is a kinda throwback comedy. Like "40-Year-Old Virgin" and "Wedding Crashers," you can basically get the movie just from its title.
But like any good high-concept comedy, "Kinda Pregnant" is predominantly a far-fetched way for its star and co-writer, Schumer, to riff frankly on her chosen topic. Here, that's the wide gamut of pregnancy experience — the body changes, the gender reveal parties, the personal jealousies — all while mixing in a healthy amount of pseudo-pregnant pratfalls.
It's been a decade since Schumer was essentially launched as a movie star in the 2015 Judd Apatow-directed "Trainwreck." But "Kinda Pregnant," which Schumer wrote with Julie Paiva, almost as adeptly channels Schumer's comic voice — the one that made the sketch series "Inside Amy Schumer" so great.
The movie's opening flashes back to Lainey (Schumer) as a child playing with dolls and imagining herself a mother-to-be. So committed is she to the role that Lainey, in mock-labor, screams at her friend and then politely apologies: "Sorry, but the expectant mother often lashes out at her support system."
