I'm not so good with birthdays.
My birthday is next Thursday, and I find myself drowning in the familiar pit of despair associated with the yearly internal struggle concerning my ordinary and inefficient existence, as evidenced by the fact that I've plodded the earth for one more year--bringing the grand total of passed time to just shy of a quarter of a century--yet still have failed to blip on the world's radar, i.e., the social radar of success as measured by the Recognition Trifecta (tm) of Wealth, Endorsement and Long Bouts of Good Luck (if you have all three, you're usually viewed as pretty successful). My birthday serves as the annual reminder, and I always battle almost a manic-depressive state of elation and depression at experiencing one more exhausting year of glorious life; it's surreal. I want to be the Cheshire cat, and I'm the rabbit.
But the solution, I've found, for the past three years or so, is to devote myself to celebrating my birthday as if it's the last great time I may ever have--who knows, it just might be--so as to draw my mind off the fact that I have yet to invent something cool, like an electric car or a portable dishwasher or a gluten-free pound cake that tastes just like the real thing (as if I was trying), and to focus on the fact that I have friends and family who love me, and in the grand scheme of things, considering all I've done and seen up until now, my life is pretty sweet.
This week, I decided on a week-long celebreezy that kicked off on Thursday night at a bar in Gritwood called Happy Endings. Great name. I'd never been there before, but after having the place recommended to me three times in one week, I decided it was time. Ambled my way over, solo after work, to meet my friend Bellini (she gets dizzy off half a Bellini), so we could have dinner, shoot the shit and see where the night took us.
Happy Endings was a happy surprise. Well...the food was mediocre: bar food with a struggling-at-upscale twist that missed the intended mark but washed down easy given the wrestler-strong cocktails. I had their classic cosmo, and Bellini tackled the Rub My Raspberry (that's right) Lemon Drop.
The food portions, on the other hand, were enormous. We both ordered appetizers, supposedly, but finished nearly too full to have dessert. Nearly. Ordering the plate of fresh cookies (one sugar, two oatmeal, two chocolate chip), which came partnered with a glass of cold milk (I handed that off to Bellini, natch), was probably a bad choice, given the amount of food we scarfed down. But I can't say no to cookies! They, too, were only ok--better than some, and they were warm, so that was good--but I ate them anyway. So by the time our friends joined as after our meal, we were both a little too full to enjoy the game of beer pong that highlights Happy Endings' already convivial charm on Thursday nights.
The restaurant space is big, and the crowd is boisterous. Even when Bellini and I were there with just the post-work crowd, the bright wood, scratched tables, hot waiter and laughing patrons made me glad to be. Plus, they have a wheel of fortune of drink specials (whatever drink the wheel lands on becomes the special until next spin), and as the Birthday Girl En Residence, I got to spin. Sadly, I missed out on granting the entire bar $5 car bombs, and instead everyone got 2-for-1 Trump vodka. Boring! What ever, I was too full to drink. Milk (and cookies) *was* a bad choice. Luckily, we decided to walk it off by heading up the street to the Roosevelt Hotel, which offers a fabulous jazz night on Thursdays (free cover!) at their sultry street-level bar, Teddy's. A must-do, it was chill and free and, despite the mediocre star-candy, made me forget I was in Gritwood at all. Great night, perfect start.
the food: Fish and chips, not your traditional. It's breaded chunks of ahi tuna with sesame-wasabi fries and a soy dipping sauce. Weird but good-weird. Sharing recommended!
the mood: A frat party on a good night, before the freshmen show up.
in five: 4/5, definitely would like to go back, for the vibe and drinks, if not the eats.
get happy: http://www.thehappyendingbar.com/index.html
samedi 23 août 2008
jeudi 21 août 2008
Called it.
Emma Stone - August issue of GQ: http://men.style.com/gq/features/landing?id=content_7208
I think a culture blog needs photos.
But I don't own a (working) camera.
[Insert frowny-face.]
My birthday is in one week....Happy birthday to me?
I'll do some research. The camera needs to be smallish, compact, but take amazing photos on the fly, because in life, you don't always have time to focus. And needs to be above three mega pixels. My mobile is just not good enough.
We'll think this over.
[Insert frowny-face.]
My birthday is in one week....Happy birthday to me?
I'll do some research. The camera needs to be smallish, compact, but take amazing photos on the fly, because in life, you don't always have time to focus. And needs to be above three mega pixels. My mobile is just not good enough.
We'll think this over.
lundi 18 août 2008
THE ROCKER
Man, it must feel good to be a rock star. Like, the pre-washed-up kind. Not the Winehouse version. At least, that's what the latest "old enough for adults to love, but you can still market me to kids" comedy from Fox is touting. And after watching the flicka, I can't help but agree.
The appeal of THE ROCKER is not immediately apparent. Sure, it features Rain Wilson of "The Office (An American Workplace)" fame, but he's not quite reprising the same role. As a washed-up has-been rocker given a second chance at rockerdom via his nerdy, slightly obese nephew's inexplicably good garage band--like really, how did these three find each other?--Wilson's character, Fish, has the chance of a lifetime. Everyone's dream. Every person who works a desk job will envy him. And every person who works a fun job will envy him, too, because let's face it: there's no job more romantic than the Way of the Rock Star.
The movie is goofy and off-beat and sometimes a little too dumb to be funny, but as a whole, it still left me smiling. The music is good, the cast of principles--minus nephew and uncle--is good-looking, the acting is humorous and the level of fantastic is redeemably real. You can go "No way, all of this from a YouTube post?" but nod your head to the beat. You can go, "What about going to college? Did they miss their own graduation?" and still tap your toes. You can wonder, "If the lead and the back-up singer, Curtis and Amelia, start dating, but Curtis eventually falls for a groupie and the two of them break up, will the band eventually peter out of existence like so many sad acts before them?" but still smile when Amelia smiles. 'Cause who can't smile at young love?
But speaking of Amelia, played by Emma Stone: wow, Ms. Stone. You're all over the place. Are you replacing Lindsay Lohan in the Young, Unsullied Hottie with Red Hair category? SUPERBAD discovered you, but now we've got THE ROCKER, and in a couple weeks, we're getting THE HOUSE BUNNY. Your movie choices...diverse. But exposure, you're getting, so kudos to you. Now let's hope we see a bit more of Teddy Geiger...cutting his hair.
plot: Some ARE born to rock.
thought: But what happens post-tour?
in five: 3.5/5
rock out: http://www.rockermovie.com/
The appeal of THE ROCKER is not immediately apparent. Sure, it features Rain Wilson of "The Office (An American Workplace)" fame, but he's not quite reprising the same role. As a washed-up has-been rocker given a second chance at rockerdom via his nerdy, slightly obese nephew's inexplicably good garage band--like really, how did these three find each other?--Wilson's character, Fish, has the chance of a lifetime. Everyone's dream. Every person who works a desk job will envy him. And every person who works a fun job will envy him, too, because let's face it: there's no job more romantic than the Way of the Rock Star.
The movie is goofy and off-beat and sometimes a little too dumb to be funny, but as a whole, it still left me smiling. The music is good, the cast of principles--minus nephew and uncle--is good-looking, the acting is humorous and the level of fantastic is redeemably real. You can go "No way, all of this from a YouTube post?" but nod your head to the beat. You can go, "What about going to college? Did they miss their own graduation?" and still tap your toes. You can wonder, "If the lead and the back-up singer, Curtis and Amelia, start dating, but Curtis eventually falls for a groupie and the two of them break up, will the band eventually peter out of existence like so many sad acts before them?" but still smile when Amelia smiles. 'Cause who can't smile at young love?
But speaking of Amelia, played by Emma Stone: wow, Ms. Stone. You're all over the place. Are you replacing Lindsay Lohan in the Young, Unsullied Hottie with Red Hair category? SUPERBAD discovered you, but now we've got THE ROCKER, and in a couple weeks, we're getting THE HOUSE BUNNY. Your movie choices...diverse. But exposure, you're getting, so kudos to you. Now let's hope we see a bit more of Teddy Geiger...cutting his hair.
plot: Some ARE born to rock.
thought: But what happens post-tour?
in five: 3.5/5
rock out: http://www.rockermovie.com/
letop5 names five restaurants
...that I may never review.
And it's not because they suck! It's because they're so awesome that I go to them so often that it's not worth my time to write about them like a record stuck on repeat. It may, however, be worth someone else's time (are you really that bored?) to know what I think about them. So I want to mention these five fantastic food stops now, so as not to confuse people who know me who might wonder (if they are, in fact, that bored) why I haven't mentioned them before.
1. URTH CAFFE - I love Urth. Next to IHOP, it's the place I've frequented most in Fire City. And though it's usually my go-to brunch destination, I discovered last night that they do dinner delectably well as well. Go for the hummous and tabbouleh half salad. With warm pita on the side, not only is it a hefty, healthy meal, it's also delicious. And for the beverage to try at this organic coffee haven? I'd suggest the honey chai latte (unbeatable!). Gotta keep your breakfast prices down? Go for the Urth Breakfast: a massive croissant, jam and a healthy helping of cheese of your choice. And it's only $5.50!
2. IHOP - Oh, yeah. I said it. They have *the* best pancakes! Others may try, but as Kokomo, Jack n Jills, The Griddle Cafe (stupid big!) and Toast have before...others will fail. The only place where I've ever had better hotcakes is at Blueberry Hill in Meadow City. I often go for The Hop's corn cake pancakes, which have cornmeal mixed into the buttermilk pancake batter for a slightly savory addition to the sweetest breakfast tradition. But note: every hop is not the same hop. The Wilshire & Hauser location is my usual.
3. BOSSA NOVA CAFE - Brazilian! Delightful! The only place I actually like to order from home from, because they deliver, both literally and figuratively, and it's great. Their plantains are so good, they rival my mother's (Mom's still win!), and their vegetarian options are super numerous. They've recently added a pizza menu, so now there's even more to love.
4. BJ'S BREWHOUSE/PIZZERIA - Another chain! It's true, not all chain's are loathed. Especially not if they carry the best dessert known to man: the pizookie. The pizookie is a personal pan pizza-sized cookie (pizza + cookie = pizookie) served piping hot in your choice of five flavors, in order from best to forgettable: oreo, peanut butter, classic chocolate chip, oatmeal walnut and white choc macademian. But the fun doesn't stop there. Atop this piping hot cookie is served a mound of ice cold vanilla bean ice cream. Naturally, the ice cream melts into the cookie, creating the most delicious, gooey concoction of sugar and yummy to ever hit your lips. Add the oreo whip from the oreo pizookie, and you've got magic in your mouth. What's great about BJ's, though, isn't just the pizookie. Like the typical American chain, it hits a lot of different food varieties, but it actually hits them well. Their pizzas are their staple, but I also recommend their pastas, most of the appetizers (bruschetta wins), their french fries (both shoestring and steak cut) and all their house-brewed beers, though the blondes and stouts are best.
5. IN-N-OUT - Omg, wait. Did I just list a burger place? Am I not vegetarian? Yeah, but In-n-Out rocks. They make a grilled cheese sandwich on their "secret menu" that is better than any burger could be. In fact, it is the equivalent of an In-n-Out burger, just without the meat. Hence, better (if you're me). Loaded with veggies and juiced with the special In-n-Out secret sauce, the grilled cheese is the perfect treat for any Fire City outbound road trip. It's pretty wet, though, so not best to steer while chewing.
So those are my five, so far, after ten months of living here. I do realise I listed Urth Cafe and IHOP on the same list of my favorite restaurants. In terms of lifestyle, that's mildly contradictory. But it's also the truth. I should add, however, that I wouldn't recommend eating anything at IHOP but the pancakes and breakfast fare. Like, seriously. It's not called International House of Steak for a reason.
1. The organic experience: URTH.
2. Pancake heaven: IHOP.
3. Something different at your door: BOSSA NOVA.
4. Five million calories of love: BJ's.
5. Faster than you can say "animal-style": IN-N-OUT.
And it's not because they suck! It's because they're so awesome that I go to them so often that it's not worth my time to write about them like a record stuck on repeat. It may, however, be worth someone else's time (are you really that bored?) to know what I think about them. So I want to mention these five fantastic food stops now, so as not to confuse people who know me who might wonder (if they are, in fact, that bored) why I haven't mentioned them before.
1. URTH CAFFE - I love Urth. Next to IHOP, it's the place I've frequented most in Fire City. And though it's usually my go-to brunch destination, I discovered last night that they do dinner delectably well as well. Go for the hummous and tabbouleh half salad. With warm pita on the side, not only is it a hefty, healthy meal, it's also delicious. And for the beverage to try at this organic coffee haven? I'd suggest the honey chai latte (unbeatable!). Gotta keep your breakfast prices down? Go for the Urth Breakfast: a massive croissant, jam and a healthy helping of cheese of your choice. And it's only $5.50!
2. IHOP - Oh, yeah. I said it. They have *the* best pancakes! Others may try, but as Kokomo, Jack n Jills, The Griddle Cafe (stupid big!) and Toast have before...others will fail. The only place where I've ever had better hotcakes is at Blueberry Hill in Meadow City. I often go for The Hop's corn cake pancakes, which have cornmeal mixed into the buttermilk pancake batter for a slightly savory addition to the sweetest breakfast tradition. But note: every hop is not the same hop. The Wilshire & Hauser location is my usual.
3. BOSSA NOVA CAFE - Brazilian! Delightful! The only place I actually like to order from home from, because they deliver, both literally and figuratively, and it's great. Their plantains are so good, they rival my mother's (Mom's still win!), and their vegetarian options are super numerous. They've recently added a pizza menu, so now there's even more to love.
4. BJ'S BREWHOUSE/PIZZERIA - Another chain! It's true, not all chain's are loathed. Especially not if they carry the best dessert known to man: the pizookie. The pizookie is a personal pan pizza-sized cookie (pizza + cookie = pizookie) served piping hot in your choice of five flavors, in order from best to forgettable: oreo, peanut butter, classic chocolate chip, oatmeal walnut and white choc macademian. But the fun doesn't stop there. Atop this piping hot cookie is served a mound of ice cold vanilla bean ice cream. Naturally, the ice cream melts into the cookie, creating the most delicious, gooey concoction of sugar and yummy to ever hit your lips. Add the oreo whip from the oreo pizookie, and you've got magic in your mouth. What's great about BJ's, though, isn't just the pizookie. Like the typical American chain, it hits a lot of different food varieties, but it actually hits them well. Their pizzas are their staple, but I also recommend their pastas, most of the appetizers (bruschetta wins), their french fries (both shoestring and steak cut) and all their house-brewed beers, though the blondes and stouts are best.
5. IN-N-OUT - Omg, wait. Did I just list a burger place? Am I not vegetarian? Yeah, but In-n-Out rocks. They make a grilled cheese sandwich on their "secret menu" that is better than any burger could be. In fact, it is the equivalent of an In-n-Out burger, just without the meat. Hence, better (if you're me). Loaded with veggies and juiced with the special In-n-Out secret sauce, the grilled cheese is the perfect treat for any Fire City outbound road trip. It's pretty wet, though, so not best to steer while chewing.
So those are my five, so far, after ten months of living here. I do realise I listed Urth Cafe and IHOP on the same list of my favorite restaurants. In terms of lifestyle, that's mildly contradictory. But it's also the truth. I should add, however, that I wouldn't recommend eating anything at IHOP but the pancakes and breakfast fare. Like, seriously. It's not called International House of Steak for a reason.
1. The organic experience: URTH.
2. Pancake heaven: IHOP.
3. Something different at your door: BOSSA NOVA.
4. Five million calories of love: BJ's.
5. Faster than you can say "animal-style": IN-N-OUT.
Nyala Ethiopian Cuisine | lunch
Ok, letop5, you call yourself a foodie. You think you have a sophisticated palate. And you think you know Africa. So why did Ethiopian cuisine throw you for such a loop?
I ate Nigerian food off and on my entire childhood, and I've lived, briefly, in Morocco. But the thing is...Africa is huge. Nigeria is west. Morocco is north. Ethiopia...it's on the other side. And their food is entirely different. Not bad. Just different. And I think I've got a project on my hands, where Ethiopian food is concerned. I've got to figure that stuff out.
I was supposed to attend a French luncheon on Sunday with a friend who was visiting me named Bright (he did a Fulbright in Thailand). We got lost in Hollywood trying to find the location of the lunch (apparently Franklin Ave is not the same as Fountain Ave; my bad), so we gave up, out of hunger, and decided to go somewhere new and original and all that good stuff you always say you'll do right before you order pizza. This time we did it.
I'd heard from a few random online sources that Nyala is the best Ethiopian restaurant in Fire City, so I was psyched to finally be giving it a try (split infinitive!). And from the get-go, I was very impressed. You walk in, and this enriching smell of cloves, allspice and autumn, envelopes you, cradling you comfortably close to Nyala's kitschily decorated bosom. You seat yourself at a table that has no silverware and wait til a kindly smiling waitress presents a menu. You can't pronounce anything on it, and you absently wonder to yourself, "...should I wash my hands?"
Yes, you should.
Ethiopian food is eaten communally, like Moroccan food, with the hands. By tearing flaps off a huge flappy hunk of flappy, more-tangy-than-sourdough-tasting flap bread (it's actually called injera), the food is scooped from the plate and deposited by the mouthful towards one's stomach. The food is rich with spices but not with sodium, and I wanted to add salt--but I didn't, because I also wanted the experience to be pure. If this was the best, I needed to eat it as the chef presumably intended.
Not starving-mad hungry, Bright and I ordered the Vegetarian combo and a pot of Ethiopian tea to share. The tea smelled amazing, but tasted just alright, a bit weak. But I guess that was our doing, because they gave us an extra bag, and I decided to pocket it (un-steeped, mind you) for a later time. Food-wise, my favorites on the veggie plate were the yemisir wot (red lentils simmered with garlic, ginger, some chilis and random spices) and the YeAtkilt Wot (fresh cabbage and carrots sauteed in garlic, ginger and olive oil). There were also yellow lentils that kind of reminded me of Indian dahl, but with different spices.
That was one thing I really, really will remember about Ethiopian food: the spices. Ginger and garlic are two of my favorites, and the Nyala chef seemed to be sauteeing or simmering or marinating or seasoning or otherwise flavoring every dish in this place with a liberal helping of G&G. So though I may not be able to pronounce the foods, aside from the bread, which will take some getting used to, everything struck me as pretty worthwhile.
in five: I think a 3.5? I don't know what a 5 would be, but I think this was a 3.5; just a little bland for me. Maybe I should have added that salt.
highlight of the meal: the free appetizer of pita bread and spicy hummous/fava bean/something good dip with chili-spiked olive oil swirled through it. Delicious, with a capital "D."
(Website not working as of post): http://nyala-la.com/
I ate Nigerian food off and on my entire childhood, and I've lived, briefly, in Morocco. But the thing is...Africa is huge. Nigeria is west. Morocco is north. Ethiopia...it's on the other side. And their food is entirely different. Not bad. Just different. And I think I've got a project on my hands, where Ethiopian food is concerned. I've got to figure that stuff out.
I was supposed to attend a French luncheon on Sunday with a friend who was visiting me named Bright (he did a Fulbright in Thailand). We got lost in Hollywood trying to find the location of the lunch (apparently Franklin Ave is not the same as Fountain Ave; my bad), so we gave up, out of hunger, and decided to go somewhere new and original and all that good stuff you always say you'll do right before you order pizza. This time we did it.
I'd heard from a few random online sources that Nyala is the best Ethiopian restaurant in Fire City, so I was psyched to finally be giving it a try (split infinitive!). And from the get-go, I was very impressed. You walk in, and this enriching smell of cloves, allspice and autumn, envelopes you, cradling you comfortably close to Nyala's kitschily decorated bosom. You seat yourself at a table that has no silverware and wait til a kindly smiling waitress presents a menu. You can't pronounce anything on it, and you absently wonder to yourself, "...should I wash my hands?"
Yes, you should.
Ethiopian food is eaten communally, like Moroccan food, with the hands. By tearing flaps off a huge flappy hunk of flappy, more-tangy-than-sourdough-tasting flap bread (it's actually called injera), the food is scooped from the plate and deposited by the mouthful towards one's stomach. The food is rich with spices but not with sodium, and I wanted to add salt--but I didn't, because I also wanted the experience to be pure. If this was the best, I needed to eat it as the chef presumably intended.
Not starving-mad hungry, Bright and I ordered the Vegetarian combo and a pot of Ethiopian tea to share. The tea smelled amazing, but tasted just alright, a bit weak. But I guess that was our doing, because they gave us an extra bag, and I decided to pocket it (un-steeped, mind you) for a later time. Food-wise, my favorites on the veggie plate were the yemisir wot (red lentils simmered with garlic, ginger, some chilis and random spices) and the YeAtkilt Wot (fresh cabbage and carrots sauteed in garlic, ginger and olive oil). There were also yellow lentils that kind of reminded me of Indian dahl, but with different spices.
That was one thing I really, really will remember about Ethiopian food: the spices. Ginger and garlic are two of my favorites, and the Nyala chef seemed to be sauteeing or simmering or marinating or seasoning or otherwise flavoring every dish in this place with a liberal helping of G&G. So though I may not be able to pronounce the foods, aside from the bread, which will take some getting used to, everything struck me as pretty worthwhile.
in five: I think a 3.5? I don't know what a 5 would be, but I think this was a 3.5; just a little bland for me. Maybe I should have added that salt.
highlight of the meal: the free appetizer of pita bread and spicy hummous/fava bean/something good dip with chili-spiked olive oil swirled through it. Delicious, with a capital "D."
(Website not working as of post): http://nyala-la.com/
Ami Sushi | dinner
I've been on a sushi kick recently. Perhaps it's because I keep eating mediocre or slightly-north-of-mediocre sushi. And I'm not trying to knock on Ami Sushi or anything (though maybe I do want to deliver just a light jab...but not a jungle punch), nor on Miru/Some Numbers from last week, but after dining at both...I'm still on my quest for cheap but stellar sushi, if it exists. That's probably because the last sushi I ate before them both was at Katsu-ya in Studio City. And just like travellers say eating in Italy will ruin food for you, Katsu-ya has probably effectively ruined sushi for me. It was so good, everything else is seeking--and failing--to compare.
Ami Sushi is located in the college-friendly neighborhood of a certain campus we'll call "U C Lots of Asians," which is probably why there are a number of Asian restaurants in the area (was that racist?). I haven't tried many of them, but Ami, I've had the pleasure of visiting twice (it was probably racist). The first time I went, back in December, I was new to Fire City and basking in its smoky haze of love (and flames), and too fresh at the feat of critiquing American food, I dismissed my meal to the bland category of "good." But that's just the thing with Ami. It is good. It's blandly good. It's basic and does the trick, if the trick is easy, but if you're wanting more, get thee to Studio City.
Nevertheless, one great appeal of Ami Sushi, besides their more-or-less college friendly prices (though they're no Crazy Fish), is the ambiance. You step off College Street Central into this restaurant decorated with black wood and red accents, and you almost feel like you're at a fancy place. The bright red staircase towering before you to a velvet-roped balcony level that makes your head go "must be VIP" (HA! As if) draws you away from your mundane, cheapfares.com life into a nice little evening. My little evening was slightly marred by the fact that they sat us by the window--in fact, both times I've come, they've sat us by the window--and that gave me both a mag view of the staircase and a mag view of Homeless Holmes outside, shouting to over-privileged passersby. But that didn't detract from the spicy tuna tempura roll I got to enjoy. The aptly titled Rose Roll tasted just like my surroundings: part wow...mostly whatever. But that's just because everything fried well gets a little wow.
food: The dinner combos offer a lot (two entree choices + rice + miso!) for a little (twelve dollars!).
mood: Geisha House on foodstamps.
in five: 3/5
tastes like fish: http://www.ami-restaurant.com/index.html
Ami Sushi is located in the college-friendly neighborhood of a certain campus we'll call "U C Lots of Asians," which is probably why there are a number of Asian restaurants in the area (was that racist?). I haven't tried many of them, but Ami, I've had the pleasure of visiting twice (it was probably racist). The first time I went, back in December, I was new to Fire City and basking in its smoky haze of love (and flames), and too fresh at the feat of critiquing American food, I dismissed my meal to the bland category of "good." But that's just the thing with Ami. It is good. It's blandly good. It's basic and does the trick, if the trick is easy, but if you're wanting more, get thee to Studio City.
Nevertheless, one great appeal of Ami Sushi, besides their more-or-less college friendly prices (though they're no Crazy Fish), is the ambiance. You step off College Street Central into this restaurant decorated with black wood and red accents, and you almost feel like you're at a fancy place. The bright red staircase towering before you to a velvet-roped balcony level that makes your head go "must be VIP" (HA! As if) draws you away from your mundane, cheapfares.com life into a nice little evening. My little evening was slightly marred by the fact that they sat us by the window--in fact, both times I've come, they've sat us by the window--and that gave me both a mag view of the staircase and a mag view of Homeless Holmes outside, shouting to over-privileged passersby. But that didn't detract from the spicy tuna tempura roll I got to enjoy. The aptly titled Rose Roll tasted just like my surroundings: part wow...mostly whatever. But that's just because everything fried well gets a little wow.
food: The dinner combos offer a lot (two entree choices + rice + miso!) for a little (twelve dollars!).
mood: Geisha House on foodstamps.
in five: 3/5
tastes like fish: http://www.ami-restaurant.com/index.html
TROPIC THUNDER
I sense a trend in this summer's comedies. And I'm not saying it's a bad one...but I do notice that there are a lot of things...exploding this summer. So beyond the atrocious video games that distract them from fruitful interaction with others, are the Youth (capitalisation intentional) to be further desensitized to violence and war, through films like TROPIC THUNDER, as they were to violence and pot, from a film like PINEAPPLE EXPRESS? Well, when the humor works as well as it did in both these movies, I don't know if I care to complain. I'm not a mother.
Besides, the things stacking up against TROPIC THUNDER's successful hilarity and wonderfulness, despite its overall message of violence as balm for the funny bone, are numerous: Ben Stiller is in it. Ben Stiller directed it. Matthew McConaughey is in it. His hair looks like an afro. These are things that, ordinarily, should give us pause. But when the film is actually a tongue-in-cheek look (stubbornly in cheek...firmly in cheek...very, very much in delicious cheek) at what both these men and others like them do daily to maintain the precipice over culture that we ourselves have bestowed upon them, it becomes a different type of comedy, an untypical Ben Stiller comedy, a comedy very much worth watching.
In other words, TROPIC THUNDER rocked my socks. It was so, so funny, right from the intro faux-trailers to the surely ego-fed dance number featuring a cleverly disguised soon-to-be-has-been A-lister during the beginning of the closing credits. Yeah, a few too many things exploded--this is big-budget comedy at its finest, I suppose--but give me Robert Downey Jr in black face as a lead farmer (inside joke, see the movie), and I'll give you two thumbs up.
A note on the black face, though...mildly inappropriate. It didn't offend me--he wasn't making fun of "my" people after all--but the fact that he portrays a stereotypical black person, and the one black person in the film ALSO portrays a stereotypical black person, albeit one of a different color (PUN!), kind of gives way to folks seasoned at getting bristled...deciding to get bristled. I haven't heard anything yet, but who says we won't?
plot: Actors fail; still make money.
thought: I am a rooster illusion!
in five: 4/5
get some: http://www.tropicthunder.com/
Besides, the things stacking up against TROPIC THUNDER's successful hilarity and wonderfulness, despite its overall message of violence as balm for the funny bone, are numerous: Ben Stiller is in it. Ben Stiller directed it. Matthew McConaughey is in it. His hair looks like an afro. These are things that, ordinarily, should give us pause. But when the film is actually a tongue-in-cheek look (stubbornly in cheek...firmly in cheek...very, very much in delicious cheek) at what both these men and others like them do daily to maintain the precipice over culture that we ourselves have bestowed upon them, it becomes a different type of comedy, an untypical Ben Stiller comedy, a comedy very much worth watching.
In other words, TROPIC THUNDER rocked my socks. It was so, so funny, right from the intro faux-trailers to the surely ego-fed dance number featuring a cleverly disguised soon-to-be-has-been A-lister during the beginning of the closing credits. Yeah, a few too many things exploded--this is big-budget comedy at its finest, I suppose--but give me Robert Downey Jr in black face as a lead farmer (inside joke, see the movie), and I'll give you two thumbs up.
A note on the black face, though...mildly inappropriate. It didn't offend me--he wasn't making fun of "my" people after all--but the fact that he portrays a stereotypical black person, and the one black person in the film ALSO portrays a stereotypical black person, albeit one of a different color (PUN!), kind of gives way to folks seasoned at getting bristled...deciding to get bristled. I haven't heard anything yet, but who says we won't?
plot: Actors fail; still make money.
thought: I am a rooster illusion!
in five: 4/5
get some: http://www.tropicthunder.com/
vendredi 15 août 2008
VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA
Maybe it's because I've travelled. Maybe it's because I wish, sometimes, that I was still travelling. Maybe it's because I've based so much of my current view of the world on the experiences I've had while traveling. It must be a melange of all these things that made me fall in love with this newest number from Mr. Allen of "I married my almost-adopted daughter, had to undergo psychoanalysis and eventually made fun of that in a movie" fame.
Ok, that isn't the only thing that's made the man famous.
Woody Allen has a knack for film like no other I've seen. How is he able to put out movie after movie, year after year, or to have so many of them actually be worth watching? Isn't his eye sight failing? His glasses are huge. And shouldn't his wit be fading? He really has been in psychoanalysis for years; apparently he's an agoraphobe. But I guess these things also add up somehow and make him a filmic genius. I do, though, find myself more likely to enjoy the films in which he doesn't write himself a part. MATCH POINT was a recent delight. And add a tally to the figurative chalkboard with tonight's screening of VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA.
The film, which centers on two friends (Vicky and Cristina) who summer in Barcelona (hence the title) is about the pitfalls and triumphs of both quick and lasting bouts of love. It is about romance when you run with it, and romance when it runs away with you. It is about being young and foreign, and about travel and wanderlust and hesitancy and complacency, and the trouble with it all. And something about these plot threads twining together really sang to me. When the credits rolled, tears sprang from my eyes (Did I just type that? Like a freakin Danielle Steele novel?), and I started clapping. I was *that* girl. The clapping girl. I was crying and laughing and clapping and remembering my 22nd birthday spent on the shores of Barcelona, in love, wildly in love, with Spain, paella and being far away.
But nostalgia was not the only conductor driving my admiration of this movie. Not only is this the first film I've seen in which I actually *kind of* liked Scarlett Johannsen's presence and performance, but it's also the first I've seen featuring Javier Bardem playing a part that seems to resemble his true nature--or what I hope his true nature is--a swarthy, Latin lothario with a penchant for wine, women and not much else. And shall we also mention the feisty Penelope Cruz? I've never been disappointed by Cruz in a film, but man, can she own a scene! Of course, we have to thank our writer for that: he wrote some of the best emotional dialogue for her character, and she held onto it well. It's the "z," I think. That must do it, because Tom Cruise...can't act. Penelope Cruz...can. It's all in the "z."
plot: One man changes love lives.
thought: Or was it the city?
in five: 4.5/5
infatuate yourself: http://www.vickycristina-movie.com/
Ok, that isn't the only thing that's made the man famous.
Woody Allen has a knack for film like no other I've seen. How is he able to put out movie after movie, year after year, or to have so many of them actually be worth watching? Isn't his eye sight failing? His glasses are huge. And shouldn't his wit be fading? He really has been in psychoanalysis for years; apparently he's an agoraphobe. But I guess these things also add up somehow and make him a filmic genius. I do, though, find myself more likely to enjoy the films in which he doesn't write himself a part. MATCH POINT was a recent delight. And add a tally to the figurative chalkboard with tonight's screening of VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA.
The film, which centers on two friends (Vicky and Cristina) who summer in Barcelona (hence the title) is about the pitfalls and triumphs of both quick and lasting bouts of love. It is about romance when you run with it, and romance when it runs away with you. It is about being young and foreign, and about travel and wanderlust and hesitancy and complacency, and the trouble with it all. And something about these plot threads twining together really sang to me. When the credits rolled, tears sprang from my eyes (Did I just type that? Like a freakin Danielle Steele novel?), and I started clapping. I was *that* girl. The clapping girl. I was crying and laughing and clapping and remembering my 22nd birthday spent on the shores of Barcelona, in love, wildly in love, with Spain, paella and being far away.
But nostalgia was not the only conductor driving my admiration of this movie. Not only is this the first film I've seen in which I actually *kind of* liked Scarlett Johannsen's presence and performance, but it's also the first I've seen featuring Javier Bardem playing a part that seems to resemble his true nature--or what I hope his true nature is--a swarthy, Latin lothario with a penchant for wine, women and not much else. And shall we also mention the feisty Penelope Cruz? I've never been disappointed by Cruz in a film, but man, can she own a scene! Of course, we have to thank our writer for that: he wrote some of the best emotional dialogue for her character, and she held onto it well. It's the "z," I think. That must do it, because Tom Cruise...can't act. Penelope Cruz...can. It's all in the "z."
plot: One man changes love lives.
thought: Or was it the city?
in five: 4.5/5
infatuate yourself: http://www.vickycristina-movie.com/
dimanche 10 août 2008
STEP BROTHERS
Two weeks ago I said there was no WAY I would see this movie.
But I drove alllllll the way to The Bridge to see Batman in IMAX, and the silly place had sold out for the day (though online, it definitely didn't say that!), and I had no choice. My friend BiCoastal and my new friend Bosley (more, later) hadn't seen BATMAN at all, so when we spotted a guy sadly selling back his two tickets to the 3.30pm show (stood up, were we?), I sighed, said "alas," and let BiCoastal and Bosley see Batman instead of me. I saw STEP BROTHERS.
Now, here's the reason why I even decided to see it. After watching Will Ferrell's screen test for the New York Times, I thought, "He seems like a pretty decent, normal, kinda boring guy..." (i.e., not like the moron he portrays on screen). I thought this would mean that I'd be able to handle, and perhaps even enjoy, his portrayal of the absolute dimwit character of Brennan in STEP BROTHERS, neighbored by the somewhat funny but mostly distasteful John C. Reilly as Dale. I concluded that since Ferrell and Reilly were obviously ACTING, they'd actually be funny. Not entirely so.
Yes, I did laugh from time to time, once even uproariously, late in the movie, despite the fact that I sat alone in the theatre (there's something slightly exposing about laughing aloud during a comedy by yourself), but it was still a dumb movie. And not dumb like good-dumb like NAPOLEON DYNAMITE or BOTTLE ROCKET, which actually are both really clever. BOTTLE ROCKET is insanely clever. STEP BROTHERS is just dumb. And I feel like it may have put a couple of my brain cells to sleep, permanently.
Hello, brain cells? It's me, letop5. I won't do that to you again.
plot: Parents marry without consulting kids.
thought: Further proves boys age slowly.
in five: 1.5/5
now you just look stupid: http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/stepbrothers/
But I drove alllllll the way to The Bridge to see Batman in IMAX, and the silly place had sold out for the day (though online, it definitely didn't say that!), and I had no choice. My friend BiCoastal and my new friend Bosley (more, later) hadn't seen BATMAN at all, so when we spotted a guy sadly selling back his two tickets to the 3.30pm show (stood up, were we?), I sighed, said "alas," and let BiCoastal and Bosley see Batman instead of me. I saw STEP BROTHERS.
Now, here's the reason why I even decided to see it. After watching Will Ferrell's screen test for the New York Times, I thought, "He seems like a pretty decent, normal, kinda boring guy..." (i.e., not like the moron he portrays on screen). I thought this would mean that I'd be able to handle, and perhaps even enjoy, his portrayal of the absolute dimwit character of Brennan in STEP BROTHERS, neighbored by the somewhat funny but mostly distasteful John C. Reilly as Dale. I concluded that since Ferrell and Reilly were obviously ACTING, they'd actually be funny. Not entirely so.
Yes, I did laugh from time to time, once even uproariously, late in the movie, despite the fact that I sat alone in the theatre (there's something slightly exposing about laughing aloud during a comedy by yourself), but it was still a dumb movie. And not dumb like good-dumb like NAPOLEON DYNAMITE or BOTTLE ROCKET, which actually are both really clever. BOTTLE ROCKET is insanely clever. STEP BROTHERS is just dumb. And I feel like it may have put a couple of my brain cells to sleep, permanently.
Hello, brain cells? It's me, letop5. I won't do that to you again.
plot: Parents marry without consulting kids.
thought: Further proves boys age slowly.
in five: 1.5/5
now you just look stupid: http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/stepbrothers/
Miru8691 | dinner
Fusion. Sometimes I hate that word. It often incorrectly entitles restaurants to serve nachos, fish of the day, pizza, sashimi and lentil soup on the same menu. I was nervous, therefore, to give the restaurant "M...random numbers" (change your name!) a try, but since my stalwart sushi favorite CRAZYFISH was closed on Friday night--God knows why--the friends and I had no choice but to wander somewhere else at least mildly sushi-related in walking distance. Miru, you won.
I've fallen on the random belief that, at a fusion restaurant, the fusion category listed first in the menu--or first among the chef's specials--is the actual strength of the restaurant's repertoire, and all other items offered within somehow stupidly flopped their way into the kitchen based on a series of shoddy judgments on the part of the bottom-line-loving owners and their spineless kitchen staff. I don't know if it's true. But since Miru listed sushi first (and, might I remind, since I was in the mood for uncooked food), I went for the sushi.
I liked what I ate. But much like their website, Miru the restaurant tries a little too hard. There's a little too much flair, a little too much variety (yeah, it can happen), and just a little too much going on in general. Their menu, like a book, offers up a series of chapter-like food categories, each item numbered therein. And though the names for the meals are all witty ("America's Most Wanted" is a spicy roll; "Victoria's Secret" has smelt egg within--hardyhar), I find myself skeptical concerning the universal quality of a restaurant's menu options when there are over sixty meal choices. I think little Miru, which is tucked into a not-very desirable corner of an otherwise randomly located mini strip mall a block west of Olympic and Doheny, would do well to scale back and pick on some food her own size.
My friend BiCoastal (she hails from Atlanta but lives in Berkeley) had the 8-piece sashimi plate, which she rated as rather amazing; and my other friend Hotpocket (she's short and has an enviable rack...it's just a fact) tried something with steak on it that looked way too daunting. To say the least of the place, at least their portions fit their prices (spent a little more than I'd expect to spend, given the location). I myself enjoyed #18 under the Fushion House section of the menu, a lightly tempura-fied spicy tuna roll called "Palm." I miss the irony in that title, but I loved the roll. And I especially liked the "samples" (read: free appetizers!) our waiter brought around while we waited for our food. And why not? Mexican restaurants give you chips; Italian restaurants give you bread; McDonald's gives you germs...so shouldn't fusion restaurants serve you a little bit of their staple specialty at the door? Tonight was a smidgen of a delicately fried vegetable egg roll, a small veggie/faux crab rice roll topped with dried beets or something purple (deeeeeeelicious!) in a light, sort of wine-tasting sauce, and thirdly, some silk tofu. Nice touch, Miru. If Crazyfish is ever closed again (for shame!), I very well might come back. Mostly because you're right across the street.
food to swoon over: my #18 was a #1, but I think the sashimi plate (actual #1, under "Fresh Sushi" in the menu) wins, if I choose to believe BiCoastal's yum's and mmm-hmm's.
drink to think about: WATER. This place is a little spensy for folks on a budge (so poor, I can't afford the "T"). But I'd love to try their soju cocktails another night.
in five: 4/5 for a random neighborhood quick find, but rates lower, I'd say a 3, in terms of an overall package (ambiance docks half a point; so does their crazytown fusion menu and their slippery, "fancy" chopsticks)
eat it, suckafish: http://www.miru8691.com/
I've fallen on the random belief that, at a fusion restaurant, the fusion category listed first in the menu--or first among the chef's specials--is the actual strength of the restaurant's repertoire, and all other items offered within somehow stupidly flopped their way into the kitchen based on a series of shoddy judgments on the part of the bottom-line-loving owners and their spineless kitchen staff. I don't know if it's true. But since Miru listed sushi first (and, might I remind, since I was in the mood for uncooked food), I went for the sushi.
I liked what I ate. But much like their website, Miru the restaurant tries a little too hard. There's a little too much flair, a little too much variety (yeah, it can happen), and just a little too much going on in general. Their menu, like a book, offers up a series of chapter-like food categories, each item numbered therein. And though the names for the meals are all witty ("America's Most Wanted" is a spicy roll; "Victoria's Secret" has smelt egg within--hardyhar), I find myself skeptical concerning the universal quality of a restaurant's menu options when there are over sixty meal choices. I think little Miru, which is tucked into a not-very desirable corner of an otherwise randomly located mini strip mall a block west of Olympic and Doheny, would do well to scale back and pick on some food her own size.
My friend BiCoastal (she hails from Atlanta but lives in Berkeley) had the 8-piece sashimi plate, which she rated as rather amazing; and my other friend Hotpocket (she's short and has an enviable rack...it's just a fact) tried something with steak on it that looked way too daunting. To say the least of the place, at least their portions fit their prices (spent a little more than I'd expect to spend, given the location). I myself enjoyed #18 under the Fushion House section of the menu, a lightly tempura-fied spicy tuna roll called "Palm." I miss the irony in that title, but I loved the roll. And I especially liked the "samples" (read: free appetizers!) our waiter brought around while we waited for our food. And why not? Mexican restaurants give you chips; Italian restaurants give you bread; McDonald's gives you germs...so shouldn't fusion restaurants serve you a little bit of their staple specialty at the door? Tonight was a smidgen of a delicately fried vegetable egg roll, a small veggie/faux crab rice roll topped with dried beets or something purple (deeeeeeelicious!) in a light, sort of wine-tasting sauce, and thirdly, some silk tofu. Nice touch, Miru. If Crazyfish is ever closed again (for shame!), I very well might come back. Mostly because you're right across the street.
food to swoon over: my #18 was a #1, but I think the sashimi plate (actual #1, under "Fresh Sushi" in the menu) wins, if I choose to believe BiCoastal's yum's and mmm-hmm's.
drink to think about: WATER. This place is a little spensy for folks on a budge (so poor, I can't afford the "T"). But I'd love to try their soju cocktails another night.
in five: 4/5 for a random neighborhood quick find, but rates lower, I'd say a 3, in terms of an overall package (ambiance docks half a point; so does their crazytown fusion menu and their slippery, "fancy" chopsticks)
eat it, suckafish: http://www.miru8691.com/
BRIDESHEAD REVISITED
Okay, I knew nothing about the book, nothing about the story. I was drawn to this movie, foolishly, thanks to the swift marketing campaign that decorated most of the commercial breaks I happened to view in the week immediately following the film's limited release. And I said, why not? I'd like a good love story.
A good love story. If used to describe BRIDESHEAD, there are two incorrect words in that definition. "Good" and "love." I'm not quite sure what BRIDESHEAD wants to be about, but it's not about love as much as it is about religion.
The story centers around an atheist's early manhood romance with a devout and sheltered Catholic girl. They kiss, separate for a few years, reunite, a la ATONEMENT. In fact, ATONEMENT and BRIDESHEAD share quite a few characteristics. Let's make a list of five:
1. Class differences. In both films, the boy is of a lower class than the girl.
2. Guilt. In both films, the actions one commits due to pride, and ensuing guilt, play a central role.
3. Epic-ness. In both films, budding love, followed by a swift separation, followed by a very long engagement--er, period of pining--followed by an awkward yet crucial moment of reunion...in other words, the stuff of epicness that awards recognition usually requires (see also: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN) build the temporal structure of the story.
4. Britishness. Both films take place in England, during or near wartime. It's so British.
5. Length. Both films are a little too long. I loved ATONEMENT, but it's the truth.
So I forget why I listed that...my point is, despite their similarities, ATONEMENT was better. Maybe it's not fair to compare them, but my problem with BRIDESHEAD is that, unlike in ATONEMENT, there was no pay-off to all the misery. Hope I'm not ruining it by saying so. ATONEMENT was deliciously sad, heart-wrenchingly poignant in its depiction of an artistic life racked by lifelong guilt. Though our central character never stopped suffering, she attacked her suffering with honesty, which I suppose served, in a religious sense, as some sort of absolution from her wrongdoing. I just kept waiting for someone in this story to be redeemed thus, and it never quite happened. I was pretty disgruntled at the end, wondering what the point was. I don't know if that's the film's fault or the fault of the original source material, but since I now never plan to read the novel BRIDESHEAD REVISITED, I guess I'll never know.
As an aside, however, Emma THOMPSON was almost scary as Lady Marchmain. And Ben WHISHAW played quite well as the character Sebastien Flyte. Why don't I remember him from LAYER CAKE?
plot: Religion creates conundrums for infatuation.
thought: They probably would've split anyway.
in five: 2.5/5
sadly yours: http://bridesheadrevisited-themovie.com/
A good love story. If used to describe BRIDESHEAD, there are two incorrect words in that definition. "Good" and "love." I'm not quite sure what BRIDESHEAD wants to be about, but it's not about love as much as it is about religion.
The story centers around an atheist's early manhood romance with a devout and sheltered Catholic girl. They kiss, separate for a few years, reunite, a la ATONEMENT. In fact, ATONEMENT and BRIDESHEAD share quite a few characteristics. Let's make a list of five:
1. Class differences. In both films, the boy is of a lower class than the girl.
2. Guilt. In both films, the actions one commits due to pride, and ensuing guilt, play a central role.
3. Epic-ness. In both films, budding love, followed by a swift separation, followed by a very long engagement--er, period of pining--followed by an awkward yet crucial moment of reunion...in other words, the stuff of epicness that awards recognition usually requires (see also: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN) build the temporal structure of the story.
4. Britishness. Both films take place in England, during or near wartime. It's so British.
5. Length. Both films are a little too long. I loved ATONEMENT, but it's the truth.
So I forget why I listed that...my point is, despite their similarities, ATONEMENT was better. Maybe it's not fair to compare them, but my problem with BRIDESHEAD is that, unlike in ATONEMENT, there was no pay-off to all the misery. Hope I'm not ruining it by saying so. ATONEMENT was deliciously sad, heart-wrenchingly poignant in its depiction of an artistic life racked by lifelong guilt. Though our central character never stopped suffering, she attacked her suffering with honesty, which I suppose served, in a religious sense, as some sort of absolution from her wrongdoing. I just kept waiting for someone in this story to be redeemed thus, and it never quite happened. I was pretty disgruntled at the end, wondering what the point was. I don't know if that's the film's fault or the fault of the original source material, but since I now never plan to read the novel BRIDESHEAD REVISITED, I guess I'll never know.
As an aside, however, Emma THOMPSON was almost scary as Lady Marchmain. And Ben WHISHAW played quite well as the character Sebastien Flyte. Why don't I remember him from LAYER CAKE?
plot: Religion creates conundrums for infatuation.
thought: They probably would've split anyway.
in five: 2.5/5
sadly yours: http://bridesheadrevisited-themovie.com/
vendredi 8 août 2008
SWINGERS (rental)
plot: Heartbreak, cock-blocking, then some dancing.
thought: Vince Vaughn has defined bromance.
in five: 3.5/5
wanna jive?: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117802/
thought: Vince Vaughn has defined bromance.
in five: 3.5/5
wanna jive?: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117802/
AMERICAN TEEN
I enter the cinema. It's a Tuesday. Student night.
I widen my eyes, smile blithely and scale my voice upwards an octave--it's true, I think; I kind of have a man voice, I guess from my university years spent shouting over loud frat party music. Well, the guy at the booth doesn't even ask to see my ID. My ticket costs $8.75, as opposed to the ongoing adult rate of $12. I grin, say, "Thank you!" and head downstairs. Lucky me.
After a foolish snack purchase (I regret that I had a coupon), I proceed into the theatre, sit with my two friends Melrosey and Promoter (he promotes himself) and wait for the lights to come down. The film starts, a documentary about five youths living in Indiana (slightly forgettable state) in their senior year of high school, trying to get by and get out and get on with their at times sad, shallow, unfortunate, or melodramatic, but otherwise very real lives.
I suddenly feel so old and young at the same time that it confuses me.
My town was and wasn't like their town, and my life was and wasn't like their lives, but I relate, as I think anyone who sees this film will, and I can't help but love their story. I've never talked so much through a movie; every five minutes, I was laughing or audibly wincing or cringing or saying, "What a biotch!" or "He's SO awkward!" or "NOT cool!" or "OMG!" or some opinionated variant thereof. And I felt so inside my own high school experience again...and yet removed from it....It was weird. I don't know how to explain it. But I can say AMERICAN TEEN was poignant and real and lovely and simple, and I hope the kids involved are proud of the product they helped create. I also hope that all the guys in the film eventually get girlfriends who care for them, since that seemed to be number one on all their agendas. And with men and boys...isn't it always?
the plot: Growing up is hard stuff.
the thought: But makes for easy entertainment.
in five: 4/5
live it: http://www.americanteenthemovie.com/
I widen my eyes, smile blithely and scale my voice upwards an octave--it's true, I think; I kind of have a man voice, I guess from my university years spent shouting over loud frat party music. Well, the guy at the booth doesn't even ask to see my ID. My ticket costs $8.75, as opposed to the ongoing adult rate of $12. I grin, say, "Thank you!" and head downstairs. Lucky me.
After a foolish snack purchase (I regret that I had a coupon), I proceed into the theatre, sit with my two friends Melrosey and Promoter (he promotes himself) and wait for the lights to come down. The film starts, a documentary about five youths living in Indiana (slightly forgettable state) in their senior year of high school, trying to get by and get out and get on with their at times sad, shallow, unfortunate, or melodramatic, but otherwise very real lives.
I suddenly feel so old and young at the same time that it confuses me.
My town was and wasn't like their town, and my life was and wasn't like their lives, but I relate, as I think anyone who sees this film will, and I can't help but love their story. I've never talked so much through a movie; every five minutes, I was laughing or audibly wincing or cringing or saying, "What a biotch!" or "He's SO awkward!" or "NOT cool!" or "OMG!" or some opinionated variant thereof. And I felt so inside my own high school experience again...and yet removed from it....It was weird. I don't know how to explain it. But I can say AMERICAN TEEN was poignant and real and lovely and simple, and I hope the kids involved are proud of the product they helped create. I also hope that all the guys in the film eventually get girlfriends who care for them, since that seemed to be number one on all their agendas. And with men and boys...isn't it always?
the plot: Growing up is hard stuff.
the thought: But makes for easy entertainment.
in five: 4/5
live it: http://www.americanteenthemovie.com/
mardi 5 août 2008
PINEAPPLE EXPRESS
Envy me, I saw it early.
But didn't everybody in this town? PINEAPPLE EXPRESS had more advance screenings than I recall for any film in Fire City in near history. Or maybe not, but I just happened to hear about all of them. I have a friend who saw it back in April. I gave up two tickets (I had procured from some schlep burning the afternoon oil while hocking brochures) to coworkers who then had the joy of seeing the film back in early June. I myself saw it a week ago yesterday. And I have five more friends who just saw it last weekend.
For those counting, the film "opens" (hasn't it already opened?) this Saturday. And I don't quite get why Mr. Apatow, or the marketing majors who manage his frontal lobe, are trying to generate so much buzz so early. Do they fear the likes of a fourth formidable session from DARK KNIGHT? Are they scared Brendan Frazer and his shoulda-stayed-dead MUMMY series will somehow swat them out of the top five? Or that "intelligent moviegoers" will all shirk the stoner fare of PINEAPPLE to see BRIDESHEAD REVISITED or SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS: THE NEW PANTS? At any rate, it kind of makes it seem like (A)they either think the movie doesn't speak for itself, and therefore have to rally my coworkers, friends, and others like me to do the speaking; or (B)they think the movie is so cool, they're proving they have no fear by showing it early to gads and gads of movie people and random people alike, because they figure we'll (a)see it again, repeatedly, or (b)tell someone else to, repeatedly.
I'm shooting for the trifecta of B+(a+b). Because PINEAPPLE EXPRESS rocks. It is like the best bromance movie since...I guess ANCHORMAN or WEDDING CRASHERS or somewhere in that scene, and though it is nothing like them--a lot more senseless acts of violence, not to mention bong-hitting--it echoes the mood both these earlier comedic classics (yeah, I said it, and they're not even ten years old: CLASSICS. Boomtown.) capitalised on so well: the abiding strength and inherent hilarity of the "bromance."
Seth Rogen seemingly plays himself, which is kinda lame, but you forgive him for it, because he strikes me as a pretty laid-back, funny guy just naturally, and you can't knock him for that. James Franco plays a completely non-SPIDERMAN-ified version of himself, a version birthed from the early tomes of "Freaks and Geeks" that has enjoyed ample maturation and weed-ification that...by Zeus, I find really attractive. His character didn't change clothes, nor probably shower, through the whole film, and he never lost an ounce of the Franco sex appeal. Please, nobody tell me he's gay. 'Cause I'd like to lust for a minute....
Okay, I'm back. The film--if anyone out there actually has yet to see it--centers around a pot user (Rogen) and dealer (Franco) who inadvertently are forced into a close friendship after said user accidentally watches a murder and is traced by the murderer's posse back to said dealer by way of a discarded blunt. Hijinks ensue. And except for the haggard faces of and slightly lame interjections from our bad guys, as well as some...fairly over-the-top scenes of gratuitous violence, PINEAPPLE's hijinks all hit home.
I loved this movie, and I definitely want to see it again. It's no HAROLD AND KUMAR (little to no political humor is injected within the otherwise lighthearted and borderline disgusting stoner adventures--plus there's no Niel Patrick Harris), but it does feature a cameo from Cheech and Chong, and in sentimentality, it hits right about the mood of SWINGERS, which I just saw for the first time two nights ago (more to come), and which I think is the perfect level of bromance. Like the Favreau-Vaughn starrer, PINEAPPLE is, at its core, sweet. It's filled with unbelievable violence and lots of pot, and other stuff commensurate with the young bachelor man lifestyle, but they don't even waste time showing random amounts of T&A (that's "tits and ass"), because that isn't the point of the film. Apparently. It's really about a good deal of this male bonding brotherly huggable sweetness...and to that effect, there's quite a bit of latent (or overt?) homosexuality, actually.
Seriously, don't say anything about Franco. Let me lust.
the plot: Pot only creates funny problems.
the thought: What were we talking about? I'm hungry....
in five: 4/5
smoke it: http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/pineappleexpress/
But didn't everybody in this town? PINEAPPLE EXPRESS had more advance screenings than I recall for any film in Fire City in near history. Or maybe not, but I just happened to hear about all of them. I have a friend who saw it back in April. I gave up two tickets (I had procured from some schlep burning the afternoon oil while hocking brochures) to coworkers who then had the joy of seeing the film back in early June. I myself saw it a week ago yesterday. And I have five more friends who just saw it last weekend.
For those counting, the film "opens" (hasn't it already opened?) this Saturday. And I don't quite get why Mr. Apatow, or the marketing majors who manage his frontal lobe, are trying to generate so much buzz so early. Do they fear the likes of a fourth formidable session from DARK KNIGHT? Are they scared Brendan Frazer and his shoulda-stayed-dead MUMMY series will somehow swat them out of the top five? Or that "intelligent moviegoers" will all shirk the stoner fare of PINEAPPLE to see BRIDESHEAD REVISITED or SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS: THE NEW PANTS? At any rate, it kind of makes it seem like (A)they either think the movie doesn't speak for itself, and therefore have to rally my coworkers, friends, and others like me to do the speaking; or (B)they think the movie is so cool, they're proving they have no fear by showing it early to gads and gads of movie people and random people alike, because they figure we'll (a)see it again, repeatedly, or (b)tell someone else to, repeatedly.
I'm shooting for the trifecta of B+(a+b). Because PINEAPPLE EXPRESS rocks. It is like the best bromance movie since...I guess ANCHORMAN or WEDDING CRASHERS or somewhere in that scene, and though it is nothing like them--a lot more senseless acts of violence, not to mention bong-hitting--it echoes the mood both these earlier comedic classics (yeah, I said it, and they're not even ten years old: CLASSICS. Boomtown.) capitalised on so well: the abiding strength and inherent hilarity of the "bromance."
Seth Rogen seemingly plays himself, which is kinda lame, but you forgive him for it, because he strikes me as a pretty laid-back, funny guy just naturally, and you can't knock him for that. James Franco plays a completely non-SPIDERMAN-ified version of himself, a version birthed from the early tomes of "Freaks and Geeks" that has enjoyed ample maturation and weed-ification that...by Zeus, I find really attractive. His character didn't change clothes, nor probably shower, through the whole film, and he never lost an ounce of the Franco sex appeal. Please, nobody tell me he's gay. 'Cause I'd like to lust for a minute....
Okay, I'm back. The film--if anyone out there actually has yet to see it--centers around a pot user (Rogen) and dealer (Franco) who inadvertently are forced into a close friendship after said user accidentally watches a murder and is traced by the murderer's posse back to said dealer by way of a discarded blunt. Hijinks ensue. And except for the haggard faces of and slightly lame interjections from our bad guys, as well as some...fairly over-the-top scenes of gratuitous violence, PINEAPPLE's hijinks all hit home.
I loved this movie, and I definitely want to see it again. It's no HAROLD AND KUMAR (little to no political humor is injected within the otherwise lighthearted and borderline disgusting stoner adventures--plus there's no Niel Patrick Harris), but it does feature a cameo from Cheech and Chong, and in sentimentality, it hits right about the mood of SWINGERS, which I just saw for the first time two nights ago (more to come), and which I think is the perfect level of bromance. Like the Favreau-Vaughn starrer, PINEAPPLE is, at its core, sweet. It's filled with unbelievable violence and lots of pot, and other stuff commensurate with the young bachelor man lifestyle, but they don't even waste time showing random amounts of T&A (that's "tits and ass"), because that isn't the point of the film. Apparently. It's really about a good deal of this male bonding brotherly huggable sweetness...and to that effect, there's quite a bit of latent (or overt?) homosexuality, actually.
Seriously, don't say anything about Franco. Let me lust.
the plot: Pot only creates funny problems.
the thought: What were we talking about? I'm hungry....
in five: 4/5
smoke it: http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/pineappleexpress/
dimanche 3 août 2008
One-oh-first post
This post is number 101, meaning HUMBOLDT COUNTY was number one hundred. That's cool! It displays two things: one, I believe in this blog, and two, I talk to myself a lot.
I'm still a touch behind in the saga of One-sided Movie Conversations with Me, but it's my bedtime now, so I have to stave off for another day (or two...or three...or...). Eventually, though, I'll be writing about my advance screening of PINEAPPLE EXPRESS, a visit to Illinois suburbia via AMERICAN TEEN, and my new favorite dick flick rental (sounds dirty, but UD used it first), SWINGERS. Vince Vaughn used to be emaciated!
Eyes ahead.
I'm still a touch behind in the saga of One-sided Movie Conversations with Me, but it's my bedtime now, so I have to stave off for another day (or two...or three...or...). Eventually, though, I'll be writing about my advance screening of PINEAPPLE EXPRESS, a visit to Illinois suburbia via AMERICAN TEEN, and my new favorite dick flick rental (sounds dirty, but UD used it first), SWINGERS. Vince Vaughn used to be emaciated!
Eyes ahead.
HUMBOLDT COUNTY
Thanks to the wonder that is my university alumni association, I saw an early screening of a South by Southwest Festival favorite, the feature film HUMBOLDT COUNTY. A fellow alum (Danny Jacobs, older) wrote, directed and quasi-starred in it, hence its visibility, and a group of friends and I, subject to the beck and call of free appetizers and a cool afternoon spent at CineSpace (sans the sketchy dance crowd that fades its glory by nightfall), went to watch.
It was okay. I wanted to like it more, but man, was it boring. I think the overall messages, however, were pretty good. I noticed two: "Lead the life less traveled," and "Legalise pot, or at least leave the growers the frick alone." It humanised the drug culture of the ever-shat-upon Humboldt County with the apparent attempt to make you embrace their choice of lifestyle and, perhaps, envy it. But unlike the main character in this quasi-stoner flick, I'm not pre-med and hating my life. I'm poor and hating my financial circumstances, but otherwise, I'm pretty happy about my life. That isn't why I didn't like it though. Let's go back to the "boring."
The film was purposely slow, I think in part due to an attempt at showcasing the acting chops of its star, newcomer Jeremy Strong. Problem is, his acting chops are not...yet...chopped. He's a newbie, and you feel it. In one scene he impressed me--and yeah, it's a scene where he cries; gosh, I'm so predictable!--but overall, he bored me. I did get the munchies watching this film, though. Mostly because the freebie hors d'oeuvres were served at the end, around 7pm, and I hadn't eaten since morning.
Props to Mr. Jacobs for completing a project I can, at this stage, only one day hope to achieve, however. I can't deny him that.
the plot: "Feeling trapped? Run to Humboldt."
the thought: "Only works for some people."
in five: 3/5, for a first film attempt
smoke it or don't: http://www.humboldtcountymovie.com/
It was okay. I wanted to like it more, but man, was it boring. I think the overall messages, however, were pretty good. I noticed two: "Lead the life less traveled," and "Legalise pot, or at least leave the growers the frick alone." It humanised the drug culture of the ever-shat-upon Humboldt County with the apparent attempt to make you embrace their choice of lifestyle and, perhaps, envy it. But unlike the main character in this quasi-stoner flick, I'm not pre-med and hating my life. I'm poor and hating my financial circumstances, but otherwise, I'm pretty happy about my life. That isn't why I didn't like it though. Let's go back to the "boring."
The film was purposely slow, I think in part due to an attempt at showcasing the acting chops of its star, newcomer Jeremy Strong. Problem is, his acting chops are not...yet...chopped. He's a newbie, and you feel it. In one scene he impressed me--and yeah, it's a scene where he cries; gosh, I'm so predictable!--but overall, he bored me. I did get the munchies watching this film, though. Mostly because the freebie hors d'oeuvres were served at the end, around 7pm, and I hadn't eaten since morning.
Props to Mr. Jacobs for completing a project I can, at this stage, only one day hope to achieve, however. I can't deny him that.
the plot: "Feeling trapped? Run to Humboldt."
the thought: "Only works for some people."
in five: 3/5, for a first film attempt
smoke it or don't: http://www.humboldtcountymovie.com/
Kokomo | brunch
Or: The Peach Pit lives!
The place on Third that was once Eat Well has changed its name to Kokomo, and it also apparently moonlights as ye olde hangout, The Peach Pit, for "90210: The New Class." I spotted the camera crews myself one afternoon...er, sort of.
It was here at Koko-Pit that I tried the vegetarian breakfast somewhat-staple, the tofu scramble for the first time. And I give it...two thumbs up! That fake food was good! At Kokomo, it was served tumbled about in pesto with sliced tomatoes flanking its heapy, crumbly whiteness. Now, I'd never had a tofu scramble before, so I've got nothing to which I can compare this one, but...it tasted pretty splenderific to me. My friend Connecticut who ordered eggs grimaced, however, calling her real food "nowhere near as good as at The Waffle," and I must share that their pancakes were also sub-par. Spongy, a bit flavorless and, well, kinda gross. But I didn't order that stuff, so I win. I should note that one friend, Melrosey, we'll call her (she lives off Melrose...and is rosy...in temperament, at least), really enjoyed her waffles. The fruit compote generously piled atop them definitely looked top notch.
What Kokomo gains for is tasty, if a bit runny, tofu scramble, however, it kind of loses in decor. The inside is long, but narrow, meaning wherever you sit, you're pretty close to the kitchen. Due to our proximity, our ice cubes melted rapidly, and by the meal's end, our water was room temperature. This probably wouldn't have been a problem, had our server been quick to replenish, but alack, he failed there. I guess we were feeling benevolent, though, because we still tipped him nicely. Oh, we're so nice. So, so nice. Give us an award.
KOKOMO: http://www.kokomo.com/
in five: 3/5 (sorry, Kok, but the brunch oasis of 3rd Street hosts several betters: Toast, Lulu's, Joan's, King's Road Cafe, MILK...in that order)
The place on Third that was once Eat Well has changed its name to Kokomo, and it also apparently moonlights as ye olde hangout, The Peach Pit, for "90210: The New Class." I spotted the camera crews myself one afternoon...er, sort of.
It was here at Koko-Pit that I tried the vegetarian breakfast somewhat-staple, the tofu scramble for the first time. And I give it...two thumbs up! That fake food was good! At Kokomo, it was served tumbled about in pesto with sliced tomatoes flanking its heapy, crumbly whiteness. Now, I'd never had a tofu scramble before, so I've got nothing to which I can compare this one, but...it tasted pretty splenderific to me. My friend Connecticut who ordered eggs grimaced, however, calling her real food "nowhere near as good as at The Waffle," and I must share that their pancakes were also sub-par. Spongy, a bit flavorless and, well, kinda gross. But I didn't order that stuff, so I win. I should note that one friend, Melrosey, we'll call her (she lives off Melrose...and is rosy...in temperament, at least), really enjoyed her waffles. The fruit compote generously piled atop them definitely looked top notch.
What Kokomo gains for is tasty, if a bit runny, tofu scramble, however, it kind of loses in decor. The inside is long, but narrow, meaning wherever you sit, you're pretty close to the kitchen. Due to our proximity, our ice cubes melted rapidly, and by the meal's end, our water was room temperature. This probably wouldn't have been a problem, had our server been quick to replenish, but alack, he failed there. I guess we were feeling benevolent, though, because we still tipped him nicely. Oh, we're so nice. So, so nice. Give us an award.
KOKOMO: http://www.kokomo.com/
in five: 3/5 (sorry, Kok, but the brunch oasis of 3rd Street hosts several betters: Toast, Lulu's, Joan's, King's Road Cafe, MILK...in that order)
NE LE DIS A PERSONNE
I love Guillaume Canet. He can do no wrong. NE LE DIS A PERSONNE (or TELL NO ONE, the English title and actual translation) is the film he directed that swept the French Oscars (Les Cesars) last year. It is suspenseful, almost scary at times, and the story is...mystifyingly mysterious. I liked it a lot.
I've always felt that Canet has a knack for music, I think, since I saw him grooving to slick tunes in ENSEMBLE C'EST TOUT, where he co-starred with Audrey Tatou. I don't know if he chose the music in that movie at all, but since then, I've imagined he has a good musical ear. And in this film, he proves it, justly. The soundtrack, though at times hitting a little on-the-nose, as the French are wont to do, showcases expressive music fitting for every scene of this psychological thriller cumme love story. There are some moments very close to the end, between our lead male and his wife's father, that annoyed me in their Americanness (together, the two tie up all the plot points that we as viewers are wondering about, with a neat little monologue on the father's part that, as a plot device, is irksomely unoriginal), but it's based on an American novel, so I guess that explains it. Plus, the rest of the film was so good--and as a true teller of emotive merit, left me tearful upon close--that I'll forgive Monsieur Canet. Hopefully, he'll come stateside sometime soon to accept said forgiveness in person. 'Cause I can't ship it. It's in my pants. Me-ow!
the plot: "A wife's disappearance finally explained."
the thought: "Come and get it, Canet...."
in five: 3.5/5 (I grudgingly dock half a point for that monologue)
tell someone: http://www.tellno-one.com/
I've always felt that Canet has a knack for music, I think, since I saw him grooving to slick tunes in ENSEMBLE C'EST TOUT, where he co-starred with Audrey Tatou. I don't know if he chose the music in that movie at all, but since then, I've imagined he has a good musical ear. And in this film, he proves it, justly. The soundtrack, though at times hitting a little on-the-nose, as the French are wont to do, showcases expressive music fitting for every scene of this psychological thriller cumme love story. There are some moments very close to the end, between our lead male and his wife's father, that annoyed me in their Americanness (together, the two tie up all the plot points that we as viewers are wondering about, with a neat little monologue on the father's part that, as a plot device, is irksomely unoriginal), but it's based on an American novel, so I guess that explains it. Plus, the rest of the film was so good--and as a true teller of emotive merit, left me tearful upon close--that I'll forgive Monsieur Canet. Hopefully, he'll come stateside sometime soon to accept said forgiveness in person. 'Cause I can't ship it. It's in my pants. Me-ow!
the plot: "A wife's disappearance finally explained."
the thought: "Come and get it, Canet...."
in five: 3.5/5 (I grudgingly dock half a point for that monologue)
tell someone: http://www.tellno-one.com/
MAMMA MIA
Oh, how I hated this movie. It has out-sold HAIRSPRAY, making it the #1 box-office selling musical of all time, and...I don't get it. I think the people who like this movie are the same people who would have called MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING the best comedy of all time. I just have a feeling. Are critics really "raving"? Something tells me, despite my age and gender, I somehow rank outside of MAMMA's target demo. I've never seen the stage show, so maybe that's it....I just don't know.
I probably wouldn't have gone to see it, I'll admit, if not for the free ticket I got from The Arclight Hollywood when some fool pulled the fire alarm about five minutes into the BATMAN screening a few nights before. I'm glad I saw it for free, because in my opinion, the singing was bad, the directing was bad, the cinematography was bad, Pierce Brosnan was...omg, so bad, and except for the ABBA music, and I guess, Meryl Streep, I could barely stand it. Bad. I'm done.
the plot: "Loose woman marries off daughter."
the thought: "You used to be James Bond...." (followed by a choking sob)
in five: 2/5
don't do it: http://www.mammamiamovie.com/
I probably wouldn't have gone to see it, I'll admit, if not for the free ticket I got from The Arclight Hollywood when some fool pulled the fire alarm about five minutes into the BATMAN screening a few nights before. I'm glad I saw it for free, because in my opinion, the singing was bad, the directing was bad, the cinematography was bad, Pierce Brosnan was...omg, so bad, and except for the ABBA music, and I guess, Meryl Streep, I could barely stand it. Bad. I'm done.
the plot: "Loose woman marries off daughter."
the thought: "You used to be James Bond...." (followed by a choking sob)
in five: 2/5
don't do it: http://www.mammamiamovie.com/
Citizen Smith | dinner
Or: They're a little 'rosebud' in their decorating, wouldn't ya say?
I think the food is of a Spanish flair. At least the music was. So I'll go with that.
Citizen Smith, which offers food of a Spanish flair, is located between Sunset and Santa Monica Blvd, off Cahuenga, and it's a little off the beaten path. It's lost amongst parking garages and a few record stores, t-shirt stores and I suppose what should smack of a hipster scene, except everyone wandering around has obviously gotten lost on their way to either Amoeba Music (best thing in LA!) or the Hollywood & Highland complex (worst intersection in LA!).
We rolled in for an early dinner after "Wicked" and were seated right away, despite the fact that we made up less than half of our dinner party. I liked that. Places in Hollywood try to nab your cash-money by "preparing your table" and offering you a perch at the bar far too often these days. Two drinks and forty dollars later, you wish you never came. Well, that is not the case chez Citizen Smith. Perhaps that's because their drink menu was out of date. It was scrawled on their blackboard wall in huge writing that called out, "Drink me, baby," what with names like "Skinny Bitch" and "Screaming Orgasm" (I think I also saw "Blow Job," so obviously, this place hates women...or loves them), but the menu was all wrong. Apparently, they were waiting for an artist to come along and re-write the new drinks. Who got fired, I wondered; the original artist or the original bartender?
Given the eclectic decoration in this place, I figured it was the artist. The walls varied between exposed brick and deep wood, the rafters boasted the usual Hollywood decorating scheme of exposed air conditioning vents and ceiling beams, and the artwork, which hung from said beams was a random assortment of...exposed foreigners smiling for various photographers. It was all very weird. Different. Unique. I kinda liked it. Kinda didn't get it. Kinda like the movie CITIZEN KANE.
The food, on the other hand, was only okay. They had nachos, they had pizza, they had burgers...so I was confused, as noted above, about what country, exactly, the restaurant was attempting to celebrate. But the Mexi-Spanish items did outweigh the others.
I had a shrimp salad that, sadly, only welcomed four, small grilled shrimp amongst its spinach leaves. My friend Lovejoy had the nachos which, sadly, were overcome by monstrous amounts of pico de gallo. My other friend Country had a burger which, sadly, still was not as good as KooKooRoo's (like, seriously? who knew?), but the desserts we all shared were pretty nice. No more sadness. You can't get sad at dessert time. Especially not when that dessert is a marzipan ice cream cake, complete with a birthday candle.
Now, I probably won't go back to Citizen Smith any time soon--it's kind of in the middle of nowhere, the food wasn't that grand (note the sadness), and I don't have any coupons--but I imagine I'll drop its name to others every now and again, because I find that people don't know about it. Is it new? Don't think so, it's on opentable. So could it still be destined for future greatness? I know other citizens that have been, after time. So we'll wait it out.
CITIZEN SMITH
in five: 3/5
eat me, baby: http://www.citizensmith.com/
I think the food is of a Spanish flair. At least the music was. So I'll go with that.
Citizen Smith, which offers food of a Spanish flair, is located between Sunset and Santa Monica Blvd, off Cahuenga, and it's a little off the beaten path. It's lost amongst parking garages and a few record stores, t-shirt stores and I suppose what should smack of a hipster scene, except everyone wandering around has obviously gotten lost on their way to either Amoeba Music (best thing in LA!) or the Hollywood & Highland complex (worst intersection in LA!).
We rolled in for an early dinner after "Wicked" and were seated right away, despite the fact that we made up less than half of our dinner party. I liked that. Places in Hollywood try to nab your cash-money by "preparing your table" and offering you a perch at the bar far too often these days. Two drinks and forty dollars later, you wish you never came. Well, that is not the case chez Citizen Smith. Perhaps that's because their drink menu was out of date. It was scrawled on their blackboard wall in huge writing that called out, "Drink me, baby," what with names like "Skinny Bitch" and "Screaming Orgasm" (I think I also saw "Blow Job," so obviously, this place hates women...or loves them), but the menu was all wrong. Apparently, they were waiting for an artist to come along and re-write the new drinks. Who got fired, I wondered; the original artist or the original bartender?
Given the eclectic decoration in this place, I figured it was the artist. The walls varied between exposed brick and deep wood, the rafters boasted the usual Hollywood decorating scheme of exposed air conditioning vents and ceiling beams, and the artwork, which hung from said beams was a random assortment of...exposed foreigners smiling for various photographers. It was all very weird. Different. Unique. I kinda liked it. Kinda didn't get it. Kinda like the movie CITIZEN KANE.
The food, on the other hand, was only okay. They had nachos, they had pizza, they had burgers...so I was confused, as noted above, about what country, exactly, the restaurant was attempting to celebrate. But the Mexi-Spanish items did outweigh the others.
I had a shrimp salad that, sadly, only welcomed four, small grilled shrimp amongst its spinach leaves. My friend Lovejoy had the nachos which, sadly, were overcome by monstrous amounts of pico de gallo. My other friend Country had a burger which, sadly, still was not as good as KooKooRoo's (like, seriously? who knew?), but the desserts we all shared were pretty nice. No more sadness. You can't get sad at dessert time. Especially not when that dessert is a marzipan ice cream cake, complete with a birthday candle.
Now, I probably won't go back to Citizen Smith any time soon--it's kind of in the middle of nowhere, the food wasn't that grand (note the sadness), and I don't have any coupons--but I imagine I'll drop its name to others every now and again, because I find that people don't know about it. Is it new? Don't think so, it's on opentable. So could it still be destined for future greatness? I know other citizens that have been, after time. So we'll wait it out.
CITIZEN SMITH
in five: 3/5
eat me, baby: http://www.citizensmith.com/
"WICKED" at Pantages Theatre
A musical worth singing home about. Everyone I'd spoken to about "Wicked," was like, "You gotta go see it; it's amazing!" with an emphasis on the "MA" in "amazing." And it was so many people, I couldn't even be skeptical anymore; I just had to believe them. And wouldn't you guess, they were right!
I've seen "Wicked" twice now, once with my mom, second time with friends, and because I'm a smarty with a slim budget, both times have been for cheap. The trick is the lottery. Arrive at the Pantages Theatre two and an half hours before the show you want to see (2pm matinee on Saturday was my pick both times), and enter your name for the lottery to win enviable orchestra seat tickets for $25 a pop (they usually go for $98 and up). They give away 26 tickets this way (i.e., 13 pairs of tickets, 26 single tickets or some combination therein), and even is you DON'T win, they offer to everyone who tried the same seat selection for half off ($45). Not too shabby, yeah? You can put your names on the lottery, stay to see if you win, pop over to The Waffle for a late brunch, order eggs instead of a waffle, then come back 'round to Pantages and see the show. Of course, that's what we did.
So yeah, "Wicked" was wonderful. The woman who plays Elphaba has a voice like a person who got granted three wishes from a genie and used one of her wishes to obtain an unnaturally spectacular singing voice. Mind-blowingly good. The guy who played Fiyero, on the other hand, despite being the understudy in the original Broadway production, sings like the genie had a hearing problem and interpreted "unnaturally spectacular" as "unnaturally un-tacular." In other words, he sucked. Cringe-worthy. But the rest was great. The sets, the flying/special effects, the lights, the humor, and the audience (it seems to be a consistently packed house), all made for great fun and a happy musical experience.
in five: 4/5
info here: http://www.pantages-theatre.com/
I've seen "Wicked" twice now, once with my mom, second time with friends, and because I'm a smarty with a slim budget, both times have been for cheap. The trick is the lottery. Arrive at the Pantages Theatre two and an half hours before the show you want to see (2pm matinee on Saturday was my pick both times), and enter your name for the lottery to win enviable orchestra seat tickets for $25 a pop (they usually go for $98 and up). They give away 26 tickets this way (i.e., 13 pairs of tickets, 26 single tickets or some combination therein), and even is you DON'T win, they offer to everyone who tried the same seat selection for half off ($45). Not too shabby, yeah? You can put your names on the lottery, stay to see if you win, pop over to The Waffle for a late brunch, order eggs instead of a waffle, then come back 'round to Pantages and see the show. Of course, that's what we did.
So yeah, "Wicked" was wonderful. The woman who plays Elphaba has a voice like a person who got granted three wishes from a genie and used one of her wishes to obtain an unnaturally spectacular singing voice. Mind-blowingly good. The guy who played Fiyero, on the other hand, despite being the understudy in the original Broadway production, sings like the genie had a hearing problem and interpreted "unnaturally spectacular" as "unnaturally un-tacular." In other words, he sucked. Cringe-worthy. But the rest was great. The sets, the flying/special effects, the lights, the humor, and the audience (it seems to be a consistently packed house), all made for great fun and a happy musical experience.
in five: 4/5
info here: http://www.pantages-theatre.com/
The Waffle | brunch
Or: The Egg.
What is it with restaurants bearing the name of their signature item that then go on to offer a subpar version of said item? I've seen it with Ketchup (read yesterday's entry), I've seen it with Pink Taco (get your mind out of the gutter), I've seen it with Le Coissant in Beverly Hills (menteur!), and now, here we are with The Waffle. Listen up, guys--unless you're IHOP, you should not put the name of a food or condiment that you think you know well in the moniker of your eatery until I have eaten at your establishment and sanctioned the christening. New rule. Follow it.
But on that note: The Waffle has amazing eggs. Like, fantastic. And not that their waffles are bad--it's just that my college dorm dining halls offered better ones. Their eggs on the other hand? Mayhap unbeatable. I took one bite of those scrambled surprises, and closed my eyes, smiled slowly, then said aloud: "These taste just like my mom's...and she makes the best scrambled eggs in the world." By default of my mother being related to me and the fact that The Waffle, like most restaurants in this town, will probably deflate in quality with time, my mom still owns the title of Best Scrambled Egg Scrambler in the World, but man...The Waffle is worthy competition. So maybe they should rename that place.
THE WAFFLE: http://www.thewaffle.us/Site/Index.html
in five: 3.5/5 (worth trying, but not really worth making it a regular destination)
TIP: To save a bit o' dough, order from the sides menu. Except for the size of their waffles (naturally), their servings are rather plentiful.
What is it with restaurants bearing the name of their signature item that then go on to offer a subpar version of said item? I've seen it with Ketchup (read yesterday's entry), I've seen it with Pink Taco (get your mind out of the gutter), I've seen it with Le Coissant in Beverly Hills (menteur!), and now, here we are with The Waffle. Listen up, guys--unless you're IHOP, you should not put the name of a food or condiment that you think you know well in the moniker of your eatery until I have eaten at your establishment and sanctioned the christening. New rule. Follow it.
But on that note: The Waffle has amazing eggs. Like, fantastic. And not that their waffles are bad--it's just that my college dorm dining halls offered better ones. Their eggs on the other hand? Mayhap unbeatable. I took one bite of those scrambled surprises, and closed my eyes, smiled slowly, then said aloud: "These taste just like my mom's...and she makes the best scrambled eggs in the world." By default of my mother being related to me and the fact that The Waffle, like most restaurants in this town, will probably deflate in quality with time, my mom still owns the title of Best Scrambled Egg Scrambler in the World, but man...The Waffle is worthy competition. So maybe they should rename that place.
THE WAFFLE: http://www.thewaffle.us/Site/Index.html
in five: 3.5/5 (worth trying, but not really worth making it a regular destination)
TIP: To save a bit o' dough, order from the sides menu. Except for the size of their waffles (naturally), their servings are rather plentiful.
samedi 2 août 2008
Ketchup | dinner
Or: What did letop5 say to the restaurant? (Ans: "Ketchup.")
Had friends in town who we'll call Lovejoy and Country (endearingly, I promise), and for their First Time in LA, I wanted to take them someplace trendy and known, someplace dripping with the egocentric honey of Hollywood. I asked them what kind of foods they liked, and Lovejoy told me, "Anything. Though one of my friends who watches 'The Hills'"--she then immediately barfed into a bag, and after an half-hearted apology, resurfaced to complete her sentence--"mentioned some restaurant called 'The Ketchup' where those non-stars of that non-show apparently don't really eat much. Have you heard of it?" That, I had. Not only is Ketchup (sans the "the") nearly consistently in the top five of opentable.com's weekly most requested, I also had a coupon for $15 off from work. So, manned with this coupon and a knee-length-but-still-somewhat-flirty dress, I took my out of town friends there to regale them with over-priced diner food via five types of ketchup: maple, mango, chipotle, ranch and regular.
Now...I'm not going to say that Ketchup was disappointing. In fact, I quite liked the joint. It's just that...for a place called Ketchup...one, they should have offered more ketchup than a quarter of a ramekin's worth, and two, the ketchups offered should have been better. That mango ketchup...no. And the ranch? No, no. Even the regular seemed sans pizzaz somehow. I vote Heinz above Ketchup's ketchups. And I don't even like Heinz. One thing I did like, however: the crab-lettuce wraps. Though messy, they were tasty. The Threesome starter was good, too (would have been "great," had I been smart enough to BMODK--bring my own damn ketchup), as were the sweet potato fries, which, deliciously slicked with cinnamon and sugar probably just after frying, were like dessert before dinner. Who doesn't like that? Actually, I usually don't. But for their attempt at originality, I'll salute The Ketchup this time around.
The one thing unoriginal about it all were their prices. Yeah, I know I'm dining in Hollywood, but for heaven's sake: you're on the edge of a shopping mall. And catch up, Ketchup: gas prices are really high right now. So cut it out, and give me my diner food for diner prices. Because I see you and your cheap, linoleum tables.*
Maybe Ketchup is scared if the prices went lower, the clientèle would get fatter. And what with all the short skirts slinking about in there...we wouldn't want that.
the food: I took my friends to KooKooRoo the day before. They preferred KooKooRoo. All I'm sayin.
the mood: Mod diner stuck in a lava lamp.
in five: 3.5/5 - Three, because you're not *that* bad, just unspecial, and the .5 because you've tricked us all into thinking you ARE special. Clever girl.
KETCHUP: http://www.dolcegroup.com/ketchup/
*=I'm mostly bitter about the prices, because I forgot to use my coupon. Blarg!
Had friends in town who we'll call Lovejoy and Country (endearingly, I promise), and for their First Time in LA, I wanted to take them someplace trendy and known, someplace dripping with the egocentric honey of Hollywood. I asked them what kind of foods they liked, and Lovejoy told me, "Anything. Though one of my friends who watches 'The Hills'"--she then immediately barfed into a bag, and after an half-hearted apology, resurfaced to complete her sentence--"mentioned some restaurant called 'The Ketchup' where those non-stars of that non-show apparently don't really eat much. Have you heard of it?" That, I had. Not only is Ketchup (sans the "the") nearly consistently in the top five of opentable.com's weekly most requested, I also had a coupon for $15 off from work. So, manned with this coupon and a knee-length-but-still-somewhat-flirty dress, I took my out of town friends there to regale them with over-priced diner food via five types of ketchup: maple, mango, chipotle, ranch and regular.
Now...I'm not going to say that Ketchup was disappointing. In fact, I quite liked the joint. It's just that...for a place called Ketchup...one, they should have offered more ketchup than a quarter of a ramekin's worth, and two, the ketchups offered should have been better. That mango ketchup...no. And the ranch? No, no. Even the regular seemed sans pizzaz somehow. I vote Heinz above Ketchup's ketchups. And I don't even like Heinz. One thing I did like, however: the crab-lettuce wraps. Though messy, they were tasty. The Threesome starter was good, too (would have been "great," had I been smart enough to BMODK--bring my own damn ketchup), as were the sweet potato fries, which, deliciously slicked with cinnamon and sugar probably just after frying, were like dessert before dinner. Who doesn't like that? Actually, I usually don't. But for their attempt at originality, I'll salute The Ketchup this time around.
The one thing unoriginal about it all were their prices. Yeah, I know I'm dining in Hollywood, but for heaven's sake: you're on the edge of a shopping mall. And catch up, Ketchup: gas prices are really high right now. So cut it out, and give me my diner food for diner prices. Because I see you and your cheap, linoleum tables.*
Maybe Ketchup is scared if the prices went lower, the clientèle would get fatter. And what with all the short skirts slinking about in there...we wouldn't want that.
the food: I took my friends to KooKooRoo the day before. They preferred KooKooRoo. All I'm sayin.
the mood: Mod diner stuck in a lava lamp.
in five: 3.5/5 - Three, because you're not *that* bad, just unspecial, and the .5 because you've tricked us all into thinking you ARE special. Clever girl.
KETCHUP: http://www.dolcegroup.com/ketchup/
*=I'm mostly bitter about the prices, because I forgot to use my coupon. Blarg!
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