Jamie Foxx and Tarantino at the Django Unchained premiere. (Credit: Barrett Jones)

Say what you will about Quentin Tarantino, but that man knows how to hold an audience. Last night at the Ziegfeld Theatre, where Andrew Saffir's Cinema Society premiered Django Unchained, Mr. Tarantino bounded on stage like a crazed carnival barker and yelled, "Who is ready to see Django? Who is ready to see Django off his CHAIN?! Who is ready to see motherfucking Django off his motherfucking CHAIN?"

As polarizing as his previous works have been, it's probably safe to say that this film, starring Jamie Foxx as the titular freed slave/white man bounty hunter Django, will be his most controversial work yet, and this is not helped by his gleeful carnival barker's act while promoting it.

But last night everyone was still all smiles during the after-party, held at The Standard Biergarten. Jamie Foxx took a turn on the dance floor with anyone who happened to be in his path, while Samuel L. Jackson (who will almost definitely be getting a Best Supporting nod for the movie) posed for photo after photo with fans. At around 1 a.m., Mr. Foxx took over the deejay booth with the writer/director.

"Hopefully in the next few months, we'll be able to say this, in this song," Mr. Foxx said into the mic. "Come on Quentin, let's go!" he added, before launching into Trinidad James's "All Gold Everything."

http://youtu.be/uR7ONiaBbXg
(Video via Barrett Jones)

After all the talent (and most of the guests) had left, we found Mr. Tarantino holding court in the VIP room of Bungalow 8. Did we need to say something to him about Django? And what was there to say? "We are not sure how to feel about the racial elements of this film?" No, it was 3 a.m., and at a certain point, even the hardest-nosed reporter feels for the guy just trying to relax and have a good time. Instead we asked him about a particular scene, a brief moment when Samuel L. Jackson's character, Stephen, demands that comfort girl Sheba (Nichole Galicia) help make a cup of coffee. It was just half a second of screen time; a subtle, hateful flick of the eyes in an otherwise non-subtle film.

"Wow, yes, we actually had to cut a line of dialogue from that scene!" Mr. Tarantino said. "It was Sheba yelling at Stephen, 'WHO DAT MAKING DAT COFFEE?'" The last line was delivered in a creepily accurate Madea-esque impression at sonic boom levels by Mr. Tarantino. Either the sound or the subject made us half-flinch away.

"They cut it, because they said it was too much," he added sadly.

"Yes, it was, um, more subtle this way," we said, holding our tongue while our tired brain tried to process a response other than, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Because the answer is that he is Quentin Tarantino, that's who he is, and he responded with the fan-boy approval: "You must be really kinda smart to catch all that in just a look." Forget our grievances with the film, our apprehension about the blaxploitation-meets-Sergio Leone buddy comedy tone of it all, our feeling that this seemed racist on so many levels that maybe it wasn't even racist anymore but something else, we don't know: when Quentin Tarantino talks to you about movies, you have no choice but to listen.

Listen and be grateful, because for all his faults, there is no one in the world better to talk about movies with.

Even Bill Hader kind of looks like Dylan/Dermot

Thank God. That's all we have to say about this weekend's Saturday Night Live game show, "Dylan McDermott or Dermot Mulroney?" While almost every other scene from the Jamie Foxx-hosted show congealed in a murky mess around some stale ’90s racial humor (Tyler Perry! How Black Is That! Tree Pimps! Ding Dongs! Bitch, What's the Answer?), there was one joke that transcended its original premise, that all white guys look the same to black people. Totally on-point, they managed to get the two actors that no one (not even us) can tell the difference between ... not even the actors themselves.

Trying to explain the humor of this sketch to a friend, we ended up getting confused ourselves and saying Dylan Mulroney was the gay guy in My Best Friend's Wedding.

And hot tip: the "Swarovski Crystals" bit maybe had the best jokes-per-minute ratio of any Saturday Night Live sketch ... ever.

Christoph Waltz and Jamie Foxx in 'Djago Unchained'

Quentin Tarantino loves a good revenge fantasy. Besides Kill Bill, his last Academy Award-winning film, Inglorious Basterds, reimagined the death of Hitler and the Nazi regime at the hands of the Jews.

Five years later, we have Django Unchained: the highly-anticipated ode to the spaghetti western in which Southern slave Jamie Foxx and German bounty hunter  Christoph Waltz are on a mission to make Southern plantation owners suffer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=rC8VJ9aeB_g#!

The tagline of this film is "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of vengeance," which pretty much tells you where the auteur's head is at. Much like Inglorious Basterds, your reaction to this film will probably have less to do with its style (which is awesome) or its performances (lets just give the Oscar to Leonardo DiCaprio for Best Supporting Actor and forget about holding the Academy Awards this year), and more with how you feel about the director's take on bloody revisionist history.

Just for an example: how do we feel about the protagonist's salvation coming from a  German bounty hunter/dentist? Anyone else having flashbacks to Marathon Man? (Though Mr. Tarantino is far too keen on film references for that to be an accident; we're sure the phrase "Is it safe???" will be uttered at a crucial juncture in the film.)

A coworker pointed out another issue for viewers: while the film is ostensibly a Western, it also has elements of a Blaxsploitation movie. This is not new territory for Tarantino, but might rankle those who feel that the director consistently appropriates black  culture in an effort to ramp up his quotability quotient.

Let the wild rumpus start! Where The Wild Things Are was crowned king at the box office this weekend with a burly $32.4 million. Between Spike Jonze’s film, the better-than-anticipated opening for Law Abiding Citizen ($21.2 million) and the continued growth of Paranormal Activity, this was the highest grossing October weekend on record. As we do each Monday, here’s a breakdown of the top five at the box office.

1. Where The Wild Things Are: $32.4 million ($32.4 million total)

You’ll see much written today about how this opening for Where the Wild Things Are is solid-but-unspectacular. Do us a favor, though, and don’t believe everything you read: $32.4 million for what is really an art house meditation on the ennui felt by children from the director of Adaptation and Being John Malkovich (neither of which grossed over $32 million total) has to be considered runaway success. The giant budget (reportedly near $100 million) not withstanding, we’d love to know what everyone else reasonably expected.

2. Law Abiding Citizen: $21.2 million ($21.2 million total)

Fun with numbers! June’s Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 had a budget of $100 million, featured two A-list stars (Denzel Washington and John Travolta) and wound up grossing $23 million on opening weekend. Law Abiding Citizen had a budget of $50 million, features two B-list stars (Jamie Foxx and Gerard Butler) and wound up grossing $21 million on opening weekend. The moral? When dealing with a  cat and mouse revenge piece, don’t go the extra mile. There is a finite audience here and Law Abiding Citizen found them for half the cost of Pelham.

3. Paranormal Activity: $20.1 million ($33.7 million total)

Before you start proclaiming that Paranormal Activity is no Blair Witch Project, take a look at the per screen averages. When Blair Witch expanded to 1,101 theaters in the summer of 1999, it grossed $26,528 per screen, which was good for $29.2 million. Paranormal Activity got its $20.1 million this weekend from just 760 screens… which breaks down to $26,530 per screen. Of course ticket prices are different nowadays, but make no mistake: this micro-budgeted DV horror flick is poised to be one of the biggest hits of the season.

4. Couples Retreat: $17.9 million ($63.3 million total)

Last weekend’s top choice dropped an expected 47 percent, which is about standard for your typical Vince Vaughn relationship comedy. While reaching the $118 million that The Break Up scored in the summer of 2006 might be out of the question, Couples Retreat should still inch its way past $100 million, which would make it only the second such grosser this year for Universal, after Fast & Furious. If you needed confirmation that it has been a bad year for the studio, you just got some.

5. The Stepfather: $12.3 million ($12.3 million total)

How is this cheapy horror remake different from all the others? It isn’t! Gossip Girl’s Penn Badgley saw his foray into movie stardom stalk out fifth place over the weekend, easily topping Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs ($8 million/$108 million total) in the process. If nothing else, at least Mr. Badgley has some bragging rights over fellow cast member, Chace Crawford, who saw his horror movie entry, The Haunting of Molly Hartley, open to half this number last October.

If you’re apartment building is like ours—the December temperatures in October are a problem when the heat isn’t on yet—then you’re going to need someplace warm to hide this weekend. How about the movie theater? In addition to the further expansion of Paranormal Activity, five films hit screens today and, as usual, there is something for everyone. As we do every Friday, here’s a handy guide to the new releases.

Where the Wild Things Are

What’s the story: Kids movies: They aren’t just for the little ones anymore! Where the Wild Things Are is the first of this fall’s kiddie-films-for-adults (another, Wes Anderson’s The Fantastic Mr. Fox, lands in November), and we’re not ashamed to say we’ll be there tonight with paper crowns on. Spike Jonze—behind the camera for the first time since 2002’s Adaptation—directs the long-awaited adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s 1963 children’s classic, which has been expanded for the screen (by Dave Eggers, natch) from just 10 sentences to 100 minutes. The reviews have been very strong—though The Observer’s Sara Vilkomerson was lukewarm on the effort—and while we’re excited, we have to wonder: Will kids today actually care about something that came out more than 40 years ago? Now excuse us while we go bang our heads into a wall for using the term “kids today.”

Who should see it: Falcon Heene.

Law Abiding Citizen

What’s the story: This movie seemed a whole lot more interesting when Frank Darabont was attached to direct. Once he dropped off, though—presumably to film his cameo in Entourage—and was replaced by journeyman director F. Gary Gray, everything got kind of meh. Gerard Butler stars as a man who takes justice into his own hands after his family is murdered (spoiler alert?), and the killers cut a plea deal with the ambitious district attorney (Jamie Foxx). Apparently the violence here is pitched at Saw-like levels, so if the rote premise wasn’t enough to keep you away, perhaps that will.

Who should see it: Charles Bronson.

The Stepfather

What’s the story: Dan Humphrey, movie star? Lonely Boy himself, Penn Badgley, becomes the latest Gossip Girl cast member to make his way to the big screen in this remake of the ’80s horror film that featured Terry O’Quinn (better known as John Locke) back when he still had hair. Dylan Walsh steps (pun!) in this time around, as the charming stepfather who is actually a sociopath. Fun times! Normally we hate these types of movies, but, honestly, the trailer for The Stepfather looks surprisingly fun. Get thee to our Netflix queue!

Who should see it: Blake Lively.

Also opening this weekend: Stars aplenty appear in the underwhelming anthology, New York, I Love You and Black Dynamite makes a mockery of ’70s blaxploitation flicks.

"I had exactly the same comment," agreed Eva Ziegler, the Austrian-born global brand leader of W Hotels Worldwide, whose brand-spankin' new 223-room, Gwathmey Siegel–designed W Hoboken sits directly across the river from Mr. Balazs' Standard. "I was in Hong Kong in January ... I look down here and I'm like, 'I've seen this before!' It's very similar."

With its "architecture that almost mirrors Manhattan," the new W Hoboken is essentially "an extension of New York," Ms. Ziegler told the Daily Transom with a clink of Champagne flutes, just prior to the hotel's boozy, packed-house opening party—er, "brand event"—on Thursday, April 23. (Ever the consummate hospitality professional, Ms. Ziegler had immediately switched glasses to ensure this reporter a slightly more generous pour. "I want to make sure you have the maximum pleasure," she said, laughing.)

"W is all about B and F versus F and B," the charming Ms. Ziegler noted, flipping the standard industry lingo for "food and beverage."

In the lobby bar, DJ Cassidy manned the turntables as a slinky blond model in a black cocktail frock spun round and round inside a giant, rotating martini glass emblazoned with the hotel chain's single-letter logo.

In the new restaurant, Zylo, operated by Michael Jordan business partner David Zadikoff's Cornerstone Restaurant Group, chef Troy Unruh prepared some 20,000 bites of food, using four separate kitchens, including two auxiliary sites.

Young real estate tycoons Matthew Moinian and Michael Shvo, developer and marketer, respectively, of the ginormous W Downtown Hotel & Residences at 123 Washington Street, made an appearance. (Mr. Moinian told the Daily Transom that crews were currently pouring the 48th floor of the 58-story tower.)

Outside on the red—er, black, sparkly carpet—Erin Lucas, co-star of MTV's The City, was getting a good feel for the windy New Jersey waterfront. "It's chilly!" said the lovely Ms. Lucas, sporting a vibrant multicolored dress and a pair of Louis Vuitton pumps. It was Ms. Lucas' first trip to Hoboken. "It's pretty!" she said.

Actresses AnnaLynne McCord and Shannen Doherty also turned out for the festivities. "Have you noticed how cute Hoboken is?" asked Ms. Doherty, also making her virgin visit to Jersey's scenic River Street. "'Cause I noticed it driving in. I'm absolutely amazed at how clean and amazing the riverfront is."

Ms. Doherty performed an admirable job in the role of celebrity shill. "No matter where you go in the world, when you're at the W, you're home," she told reporters.

And was she ever excited about the new W's nightlife offerings: "Of course! Like, Tenjune?! Hello?!"

Impresarios Mark Birnbaum and Eugene Remm, operators of the W Hoboken's 4,000-square-foot Chandelier Room nightspot, which offers some spectacular views of the Manhattan skyline, also operate the popular meatpacking district hot spot Tenjune. (Turns out, W Hoboken developers David and Michael Barry are also investors in Tenjune, as well as the duo's forthcoming revamp of the old Lotus club, set to reopen by the end of the summer.)

From meatpacking to Hoboken is no huge leap, Mr. Birnbaum noted: "Hoboken is 10 minutes from the West Village. Once you're out of the Holland Tunnel, it's five minutes. From my apartment in the West Village to the Upper East Side, to the Lower East Side, to Soho, it takes me about 20, 30 minutes. It takes me less time if not equal time to get here."

Giving the bridge-and-tunnel crowd a hip destination without having to actually cross any bridges or tunnels only makes sense amid the sluggish economic situation, Mr. Birnbaum told the Daily Transom: "In this economy, I love Hoboken, for the simple fact that there are so many people in the surrounding areas that are looking to maybe save some money wherever they can and it may just be cutting out the simple transportation to Manhattan and lesser price point on drinks."

Shortly after 10 p.m., party-goers crammed into the hotel's second-floor ballroom for a special guest performance by the actor and singer Jamie Foxx.

"Hoboken in the house!" he declared before launching into a short but sweet set of songs, including his trademark cover of Ray Charles' "I Got A Woman" intermixed with its inevitable Kanye West mutation "Golddigger," as well as his own recent hit "Blame It (on the Alcohol)."

"At the end," W's Ms. Zeigler told the Daily Transom, summing up the company's party-hard philosophy, "we try to create a world of 'wow' that is bigger than life, that is surprising, that is playful, you know, where you enjoy yourself, sit, party, flirt, that kind of thing."

Was she flirting? "Always," Ms. Zeigler said, laughing. "We just need to drink a big glass."

Obsessed

What’s the story: Idris Elba is having a bit of a moment. In the last month, the man formerly known as The Wire’s Stringer Bell has appeared as the antagonist in The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, spent a few weeks getting under the skin of everyone at Dunder Mifflin on The Office and now stars with Beyoncé and Ali Larter in the umpteenth revamp of the Fatal Attraction model. To wit: a successful businessman has an almost-fling with the office temp, who then tries to ruin his life. That Obsessed sounds especially like the 1993 Timothy Hutton–Lara Flynn Boyle film The Temp is not lost on us.

Who should see it: Lara Flynn Boyle.

Fighting

What’s the story: The title gets right to the point. Channing Tatum (the male Megan Fox) stars as a Southern counterfeiter (!) who moves to New York and winds up becoming an underground street fighter. Terrence Howard appears as his shady con artist manager, a part we can only assume he took after Marvel screwed him out of a payday for Iron Man 2. Damn Marvel!

Who should see it: Ryan Atwood.

The Soloist

What’s the story: If it feels like you’ve seen ads for The Soloist for the better part of a year, that’s probably because you have. The onetime Oscar contender was pushed back from its November release date to April because Paramount felt it would have gotten lost in the shuffle amid all the other competition. An adaptation of the best-selling book about a Los Angeles Times columnist who befriends a schizophrenic and homeless cellist, the film has gotten fairly mixed reviews, mostly drawing positive notices for its two stars, Robert Downey Jr. and Jamie Foxx. Frankly, we just want to see it because the trailer makes us cry like little children.

Who should see it: Itzhak Perlman.

The Informers

What’s the story: An adaptation of the Bret Easton Ellis book of the same name, The Informers has the honor of being one of the worst reviewed films of the year (it has a 15 percent Fresh rating over at Rotten Tomatoes). Our Rex Reed calls it “[a] rancid load of swill,” and that those are the first five words of his review should tell you something. Stay away.

Who should see it: Patrick Bateman.

Tyson

What’s the story: Director James Tobak’s critically acclaimed documentary about Mike Tyson opens today, positioning itself as the confessions of a broken man. That’s fine, but haven’t we heard Iron Mike’s story enough by now? If we’re going to see him on the big screen this year, we’ll just wait for Mr. Tyson’s cameo in The Hangover. We doubt anything in Tyson could be as eye opening as the former champ singing “In the Air Tonight” by Phil Collins.

Who should see it: Evander Holyfield.

Earth

What’s the story: This documentary opened Wednesday (on Earth Day, natch) to a slew of surprising controversy. The G-rating was cast in doubt because of the film’s animal-on-animal violence, while the artistic merit was questioned because 70 percent of the footage has been rehashed from the BBC series Planet Earth. About that violence: If kids can handle the near annihilation of the human race (Wall*E, we’re looking at you), they should be fine here.

Who should see it: Al Gore.

Robert Downey Jr. was once described by a reviewer as “cinema’s veritable lost puppy.” Pretty good, yes? He is certainly always vulnerable, ready to lick your hand to be liked, slightly off the radar, stardom just out of reach, close but no cigar. He’s impressive all over again in The Soloist, giving it all he’s got, but with no payoff. Still, watching him work is one of the movie’s more curious pleasures.

Directed by Joe Wright, whose Atonement was one of the best films of 2007, and scripted by the distinguished Susannah Grant, who wrote Erin Brockovich and In Her Shoes, among others, The Soloist is a true story, based on a series of articles by Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez. Mr. Downey plays Lopez, a reporter trapped in the challenging doldrums of the dead-end newspaper business. Disenchanted, disillusioned and still reeling from the collapse of his marriage to a fellow journalist, he mopes along a street in downtown L.A.’s Skid Row when he spots a ragged and filthy old homeless man (yes, that’s Jamie Foxx under the dreadlocks and dirt) scratching out a tune on a two-string violin. It sounds awful, but the man shows a knowledge of music Lopez finds curious. An interesting human-interest column develops when his research uncovers the man’s identity as Nathaniel Ayers, once a dynamic prodigy studying the cello at Juilliard and headed for a brilliant music career. How could a promising cellist end up living in tunnels and sleeping on the streets? As Lopez negotiates an uneasy friendship with the shy, aloof and distrusting bum, the lost man’s story—and the reporter’s determination to rehabilitate him—becomes a life-changing obsession. It is Lopez whose life is profoundly jump-started.

This is the same regeneration theme as Resurrecting the Champ (2007), in which a Denver sports writer (Josh Hartnett) rescues a homeless tramp (Samuel L. Jackson) and discovers he’s a once-famous boxing champ believed to be dead. In that movie, the boxer was all too willing to be rehabilitated because his story turned out to be a lie. In The Soloist, the cellist is real, but he can’t be saved because he’s not only psychologically damaged but dangerous and violent, too. Everybody likes movies about underdogs battling unbeatable odds to triumph in football, tennis, golf and Carnegie Hall. It’s the John Garfield syndrome. But Nathaniel is different—part wacko, part idiot savant, genuinely gifted, but panhandling on street corners while ranting about Beethoven in a Faulknerian stream of consciousness. (It’s mainly a showoff performance by Mr. Foxx, but you have to admire his mastery of the jabberwocky dialogue.) It’s the way the two characters play off each other that sustains emotional involvement—the musician derailed by mental illness and the journalist de-balled by an ex-wife who has been promoted to his managing editor (Catherine Keener). Lopez’s research and Ms. Grant’s collation of the facts into a gripping “living” document provide insight into the best (an elderly reader forced to give up her music career after 50 years because of arthritis reads the article and donates her cello to Ayers) and worst (probing homeless shelters, we see the saddest parts of L.A.) of humanity. I couldn’t help but be moved watching Nathaniel, rendered speechless by his new cello, trying to protect his prize from junkies, psychos, predators and hustlers in the rescue missions and dark alleys of Skid Row—not to mention rats the size of rabbits.

Joe Wright’s direction is always on the beam—intimate brush strokes, in a larger frame. There’s one aerial shot that makes L.A. look like a maze of cinder blocks and little rectangular swimming pools. Easy for a life to get lost in. Lopez’s goal is to restore a disenfranchised soul to his profession and give him purpose through the restorative magic of music. It doesn’t work, but he does make a lifelong friend. The Soloist is a moving, inspirational story told in a straightforward style, refreshingly devoid of sentimentality. It’s about just one of the 90,000 homeless human train wrecks living on the streets of Los Angeles, and it makes you wonder how many other lost causes might move up a rung or two on the ladder to a better life if we took a little more time to care.

rreed@observer.com

Joe Wright’s The Soloist, from the screenplay by Susannah Grant, is based on the book The Soloist: A Lost Dream, an Unlikely Friendship, and the Redemptive Power of Music, by Steve Lopez. The subtitle of the book says virtually everything about this film, about a Los Angeles Times columnist, Steve Lopez, who in April 2005 began a series of pieces about a onetime musical prodigy named Nathaniel Anthony Ayers who’d been reduced by an acute case of schizophrenia to playing a two-string secondhand violin in downtown Los Angeles slum doorways and alleys.

Robert Downey Jr. plays Lopez, and Jamie Foxx plays Ayers, the destitute street musician, and certainly the redemptive element in this saga of a transformative friendship is the glorious music of (mostly) Ludwig van Beethoven spread across the soundtrack. Mr. Wright and his screenwriter, Ms. Grant, have gone to great lengths to reproduce the intransigent realities of urban homelessness and mental illness in the slow, setback-filled progression of their only partially regenerative narrative. They have taken a few liberties with the biographical facts to speed up the story, but they have resisted the temptation of a grossly sentimental ending, and for that they deserve to be commended.

In addition, Mr Downey and Mr. Foxx both turn in Oscar-worthy performances in their very strenuous and detail-drenched roles. Mr. Downey is particularly impressive in the indispensable bite he gives to a characterization that might otherwise have sunk in the swamp of excessive altruism. Mr. Foxx, a talented musician on the piano in his own right, nonetheless had to master the fingering on both the violin and the cello before he could be convincing in his extensive simulations on the screen.

Catherine Keener is somewhat wasted in the thanklessly marginalized role of the columnist’s finally reconciled ex-wife. If anything, this platonic all-male love story is the antithesis of a chick flick, and the presence of Ms. Keener’s sharp-tongued Mary Weston in the proceedings becomes embarrassingly superfluous as the picture progresses. Similarly, Lisagay Hamilton as Ayers’ long-suffering sister, Jennifer, is not given much more to do than sit next to her brother during the film’s concluding concert scene.

In the only other significant role in the film, Nelsan Ellis’ charity house supervisor, David Carter, has to patiently explain to the columnist the limits of psychiatry in the miracle seeker’s quest for an instant cure for Ayers’ schizophrenia. But even after Ayers turns violently on his would-be benefactor, Lopez persists in pursuing his quixotic quest for the ex-prodigy’s rehabilitation.

Mr. Wright’s two previous prizewinning feature films, Pride and Prejudice (2005) and Atonement (2007), established his credentials to undertake The Soloist. Ms. Grant’s most notable screenwriting credit is for Steven Soderbergh’s Erin Brockovich (2000), for which Julia Roberts won an Oscar in the title role.

I might note just in passing that this is the second film I have recently reviewed that seeks to glorify the desperately endangered profession of print journalism from coast to coast. The Soloist itself contains a scene that strikes an uncomfortably timely note in what I took to be a parody of the usual soothing syrup squirted out to reporters about to be laid off by their employers. Never send to know for whom the bell tolls, etc.

asarris@observer.com

Today, HBO announced its lineup for the ceremony—dubbed "We Are One: The Obama Inaugural Celebration"—which the premium cable network will make available for free to nonsubscribers.

According to the press release, the event will include "historical readings" by the likes of Jamie Foxx, Queen Latifah and Denzel Washington.

The musical lineup will include performances from Beyoncé, Mary J. Blige, Bono, Garth Brooks, Sheryl Crow, Renee Fleming, Josh Groban, Herbie Hancock, Heather Headley, John Legend, Jennifer Nettles, John Mellencamp, Usher Raymond IV, Shakira, Bruce Springsteen, James Taylor, will.i.am and Stevie Wonder.

More from the release: