"Put your game face on."

When you have the highest-rated drama on television, there is a temptation to milk it for all that you can. We've seen it happen with both the Law & Order and CSI franchises. The results tend to be mixed, with some capturing and even exceeding the popularity of the original. Others never quite seem to connect and are gone while their mother ship is still on the air. It's too early to tell if NCIS: New Orleans will fall in the former or latter category. There's certainly plenty of the tight writing and production value that the NCIS label is known for. The cast is better than average, and we have the addition of an iconic city with plenty of personality to help drive the atmosphere of the show. But how does that translate on a week-to-week basis? In its second year, the jury's still out on that one.

Charlie “Charlie Mac” McIntyre (Terrence “Terrence J” Jenkins) is a modern lothario (not much call for that world nowadays) with a seamless ability to remain romantically unattached to the many women that he meets and sleeps with. Now before you begin to hate him, let me clarify that he is not callous, and he does have scruples. He does not date anyone that shares a connection to any of his circle of friends in order to preserve their friendship. Despite him respecting that relationship, his friends wish for him to reform his ways and settle down, something he has no intention of ever doing. Believing his actions are emotionally unhealthy, his two best friends Rick and Victor (Donald Faison and Robert Christopher) take it upon themselves to propose a bet: he must commit to one person until Victor‘s wedding, in order to prove that a prolonged period of time with one woman will not fundamentally change his perspective on relationships.  Charlie accepts.

Enter Eva (Cassie), a sultry and successful woman that Charlie has a chance encounter with. Now this is where the story takes a turn. She is fully aware of the bet, and at first is not interested in participating but soon changes her mind on one condition: she is not looking for a full-blown commitment, but rather a no-strings-attached relationship. Thinking that is the perfect circumstances for him, Charlie accepts once again. With every encounter their passion and connection grow, leaving one question lingering: are they falling for one another?

The Boy Who Cried Werewolf (1973) is an interesting collection piece for fans of horror film. It marks the end of Universal’s long-standing tradition of double-billing B-horror films from the 1930’s onward. That being said, The Boy Who Cried Werewolf and its companion film Sssssss (1973) are the physical evidence of the end of an era. This particular release drops the double- billing tradition, which is rather confusing to me, simply because the Universal Studios distributing system’s historical relevance is worth more to me than the actual film. Outside of the context that I have provided, this film doesn’t have many interesting qualities.

Recently divorced father Robert Bridgestone takes his son, Richie, to his secluded summer cabin. While walking through the woods one night, the two are attacked by a werewolf. After a struggle, Robert is able to throw the creature off the cliff, but not before he was bitten. Now Robert must cope with this ailment in addition to the responsibilities of being a single father. The film also outlines Richie’s complex position during the ordeal. Richie tries to tell his dad about the ailment, but his dad thinks Richie has an overactive imagination. Richie doesn’t want to tell the police, for fear they may harm his caretaker.