Agni Indian Kitchen and Bar

Located at 651 South Regional Road in Greensboro, Agni Indian Kitchen and Bar serves up Indian cuisine for lunch and dinner. There is a full-service bar and delivery is available.

A former fast food location off of N.C. 68 is an unlikely bet for good anything – let alone good Indian – but Agni comes very close to pulling it off. While the outside still resembles the Wendy’s that Agni once was, the interior tells a different story. The décor features bright reds, greens, and blues, a funky combination that nevertheless lends a touch of comfort and class. The layout, however, is logistically suspect. A U-shaped buffet area isn’t conducive to high volume or foot traffic, a problem when Agni draws a lunch crowd.

Fortunately, this did not prove a problem during a recent lunch visit. The buffet’s offerings were chicken-heavy, but there were a few vegetarian dishes and one fish offering, plus the requisite condiments, desserts, and naan. Everything I sampled was executed competently though only a few dishes – namely, the saag and the fish tikka – really stood out. The dishes had a good (but by no means overwhelming) amount of spice and heat, appropriate for a place whose name translates to “fire.”

At $9.99, the buffet wasn’t a steal, but Agni’s ongoing 10 percent discount made it easier for me to feel like I had gotten my money’s worth. That, plus excellent service, make this an attractive lunch spot. Just the same, I would hesitate before trying Agni for dinner: the prices are a bit high (entrees with meat start at $15 – on par with the competition, actually), and the selection, though varied, is somewhat limited (no thalis, no jalfrezzi on the regular menu, etc.).

Despite this — and its out-of-the-way location – Agni comes across as a welcome addition to Greensboro’s increasingly heterogeneous dining scene. It may not be in any position to supplant Saffron, but it still has merit all its own.

7.75/10

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies

After the menacing dragon Smaug (voice of Benedict Cumberbatch) is slain by Bard the Bowman (Luke Evans), a displaced company of dwarves is finally free to reclaim its former home in the Lonely Mountain. Having a vast treasure at his disposal, however, turns dwarf king Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage) greedy and paranoid. When his refusal to compensate his human and elven allies puts their forces at the brink of war, hobbit thief Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) must take drastic action. Meanwhile, an orc army seeks to capitalize by launching a massive invasion.

The third and final film in Peter Jackson’s Hobbit trilogy, The Battle of the Five Armies is less a standalone work and more a reward to fans for their exceptional patience. After shamelessly padding the previous two installments, the finale clocks in at a relatively lean 144 minutes, and much of that running time is filled with action. The thinness and predictability of the plot would ordinarily be a major demerit, but in context, it makes for a satisfying conclusion to a sprawling saga.

Like all of Jackson’s Tolkien adaptations, The Battle of the Five Armies is well-shot and visually immersive. There are some places where the CGI is a bit too conspicuous (witness a puff of smoke frozen perfectly in place), but for the most part, the film successfully brings Middle Earth to life. The action sequences are similarly well-crafted. Though nothing here quite matches the previous film’s barrel scene, a late battle lets Legolas (Orlando Bloom) demonstrate some innovative swashbuckling. It’s also quite satisfying to watch Ian McKellen (Gandalf the Grey) and Christopher Lee (Saruman the White) beat down foes with wizard staffs at 75 and 92 years old, respectively.

As mentioned previously, the plotting here fails to inspire. Everything that transpires reads as a mere prelude to the inevitable battle, but the lulls in the action do allow for some character development: namely, Thorin loses and regains his honor, and elf warrior Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly) learns that pain comes with love. Her ill-fated romance with dwarf Kili (Aidan Turner) remains improbable and divisive, but it does fulfill the function of giving the film a “B” story.

For all its ridiculous moments - Thorin’s declaration that he won’t part with a single coin is inexplicably delivered in slow motion, and the film’s fauna are something else (a dwarf chieftain rides a boar while elf king Thranduil favors a war elk as his mount) – The Battle of the Five Armies entertains more often than it frustrates. It is by no means Jackson’s finest work, but it succeeds ably at bridging the gap from one trilogy to another and should satisfy fans of both.

8/10

Black Mountain Chocolate

Located at 732 North Trade Street in downtown Winston-Salem, Black Mountain Chocolate offers chocolate bars, drinking chocolate, gelato, baked goods, and more. The chocolate is made on-site, and factory tours are available.

When it comes to food, “artisanal” typically conjures one of two images: the impeccable efforts of a skilled craftsman or overpriced pretension peddled to status-seeking rubes. Thankfully, Black Mountain represents the former tradition.

First and foremost, the chocolate here is outstanding (and this comes from someone who typically prefers milk or white chocolate to dark). Stop in, and you’ll get to sample different varieties (sea salt, cocoa nib, espresso, etc.), each with its own complex flavor. This diversity extends to liquid form as well: the drinking chocolate comes in three strains. I opted for ginger-nutmeg with a marshmallow and was not disappointed: the chocolate was rich and smooth, and the ginger notes added a welcome kick.

This excellence isn’t limited to just chocolate, either. The baked goods are spot-on as well. A banana cream macaroon had real banana flavor (as opposed to the overly sweet synthetic cousin), and a moonshine macaroon won high praise from my companion. The available offerings may rotate, but you’re bound to find something that catches your eye among the macaroons, pies, cookies, and pastries on any given day.

It also helps that everyone at Black Mountain is exceptionally friendly. They will answer questions, offer recommendations, and put up with your slack-jawed gawking at all the delicious desserts. They even held a chocolate bar that I had purchased but left behind during a previous visit.

At $5 a bar, Black Mountain’s chocolate will seem exorbitant compared to store-bought Hershey’s, but such is the difference between a bespoke suit and one grabbed off the rack at Wal-Mart. Besides, the rest of the goods – drinks, pastries, etc. – are far more in line with the competition, and those products that aren’t made in-house come from local businesses.

Whether you have a sweet tooth or not, as long as you can appreciate something tasty done right, Black Mountain Chocolate is worth your time.

9.25/10

Hutch and Harris

Located at 424 West Fourth Street in downtown Winston-Salem, Hutch and Harris offers soups, salads, sandwiches, and entrees for lunch and dinner. There is a full service bar, outdoor seating, brunch on the weekends, and daily food and drink specials. Take out is available.

Trying to find dinner in Winston on a Saturday night without a long wait proved to be quite a challenge, so Hutch and Harris won out by virtue of having seats open at the bar. The meal that followed made out stumbling in here out of desperation a stroke of good fortune, but there were still a few nagging inconsistencies that would preempt a glowing recommendation.

Conveniently located at the corner of Fourth and Spruce, Hutch and Harris offers an inviting atmosphere: classy without being stuffy and comfortable without feeling cheap. Despite a full house and a college football game on TV at the bar, the noise level never rose to the point of agitation.

The menu here is eclectic bordering on schizophrenic. Influences include Asian (Siracha Stirfry Salad), Southern (Shrimp and Grits, Kentucky Fried Chicken), Cajun (a shrimp/crawfish/chicken platter) and more. This makes for some wonderful variety; however, it also makes it hard to pin down H & H’s culinary identity.

During our visit, my companion and I opted to sample some soups and split an order of nachos. The nachos featured the standard accoutrements (cheese, pico de gallo, sour cream) elevated considerably by tender marinated pork. Among the soups, the crab bisque was creamy with excellent flavor. Unfortunately, it also contained a few bits of shell. The white bean chicken chili was hearty and satisfying, but the flavor profile didn’t really fit that of a chili (I found myself missing the tomato). Some savory, crumbly jalapeno cornbread made for a welcome addition.

Given the location, pricing at Hutch and Harris could be a lot steeper. Our soups came out to $4 apiece, and our app was $10. Sandwiches (with a side) start at $9 and entrees are mostly in the teens.

In terms of service, the bartenders on duty were great – fast, friendly attentive, and knowledgeable – but the kitchen certainly could be swifter.

All told, Hutch and Harris gave us a good meal and a good evening when one was needed. It has a few shortcomings, but it also has enough going for it to merit a return visit.

7.5/10

Locke

British construction foreman Ivan Locke (Tom Hardy) is a happily married father of two. The night before he is scheduled to oversee a record-setting concrete pour, he forsakes watching a big football match with his family to be present for the birth of his illegitimate child, the product of a single night of infidelity with a woman he barely knows. As Ivan cruises the highway en route to the hospital, a series of tense phone calls bring his personal and professional life to ruin. However, he is determined not to walk in the footsteps of his late father, who abandoned him as a child.

For as many films as there are that fail to deliver on a promising premise, there is the rare film that succeeds despite sounding like a terrible idea on paper. Locke falls in the latter camp. Directed and written by Steven Knight, it unfolds in real time, and from the moment the title character enters his car, the camera almost never leaves him. An hour and a half of a character driving and talking has the potential to be excruciating, but it ends up captivating due to the precision of its script and the competence of its star.

Hardy, who sports a quirky Welsh accent, continues to excel at portraying characters who have a lot going on beneath the surface. Ivan starts the journey with an air of almost impenetrable calm and maintains it even while he comes clean to his wife and colleagues. But between phone calls, he seethes with resentment at his dead disappearing dad. Even as his frustration grows as the trip progresses, Hardy avoids the clichéd and predictable epiphany-inducing meltdown that would have sunk his credibility (and this film along with it).

Oddly, this bit of verisimilitude also serves as a hindrance. There is some semblance of closure by the end, but the viewer can’t help but feel cheated by the lack of a payoff. Even a quiet, grounded film can have its share of big moments, but there is nary a one to be found here, an absence that robs the film of impact and often tests the audience’s patience.

There are, however, plenty of amusing little moments. Through a series of conversations with Ivan, beleaguered second-in-command Donal (voice of Andrew Scott) goes from being completely overwhelmed by the prospect of tacking charge to amusingly drunk. And then there is Ivan’s awkward attempt to clarify the nature of his relationship with the mother-to-be to a hospital administrator. Every time a “her partner” is tossed his way, he insistently replies that he is “the father.” Knight’s stage-like feel for dialogue is in good form in these exchanges.

To be certain, Locke’s low-key unconventionality will prove maddening to a certain segment of viewers. But those with the requisite patience can appreciate a convincing (and mercifully compact) look at how one man tries to come to terms with a colossal screw-up.

7.75/10

Gone Girl

On their fifth wedding anniversary, Amy Elliott Dunne (Rosamund Pike), the wife of writer-turned-bar owner Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) goes missing under suspicious circumstances. As the police investigate the disappearance, Nick commits some social blunders under media scrutiny, and Amy’s hidden diary points to a once-happy marriage that has since deteriorated into hostility and fear. Though suspicion falls on Nick, Amy’s ultimate fate may not be what it seems.

Directed by David Fincher and scripted by Gillian Flynn from her own best-seller, Gone Girl is both a solidly crafted piece of cinema and an enigmatic disappointment. Fincher is a master stylist, the movie is sharply written, and the cast exudes competence, yet the film never quite grips its audience to the fullest extent.

This failure to go for the jugular is born of both perspective and pacing. In the novel, readers are treated to dueling unreliable first-person narrators, and characters come to life in the discrepancies between the accounts. On film, we get traces of this – Amy gets a diary voiceover and the camera often follows Nick – but the amusingly sordid confessionals are largely lost. Further, while the film has plenty of tense moments (a shocking discovery toward the middle, a bloody act of desperation toward the end), that tension isn’t sustained through the second half. There is an episodic quality here that undermines what is at stake. We should feel the walls closing in on our protagonist, but we never fully get that sense of pending doom.

These flaws mar what is otherwise a very well-executed film. The cast is beyond reproach. Affleck, a real-life hate-magnet for many, seems born to play Nick, a character that embodies both sides of the laid-back nice guy/smug jerk dichotomy. Pike never fully gets across the bubbly naiveté of Amy’s diary narration, but she otherwise nails the character’s otherworldly cleverness and limitless determination. Among the supporting roles, Neil Patrick Harris is appropriately creepy as Amy’s obsessive ex, Kim Dickens delivers a healthy dose of skepticism as a dogged detective, and even the usually clownish Tyler Perry does quality work here as a media-savvy high profile lawyer. There is nary a weak link to be found.

In addition, although Fincher fails to impart the same spark here that made his past thrillers so gripping, Gone Girl is far from stylistically limp. There is a convincing sense of place as the film hops from New York to Missouri and beyond, and the few violent set pieces are visually arresting. Frequent collaborators Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross supply a score that  is handily unsettling when it needs to be.

Ultimately, Gone Girl may have more resonance for those unacquainted with the source material. The novel’s twists – and twistedness – were punches to the reader’s gut, and the film, faithful as it is, offers familiarity to cushion the blows. Even with this diminished thrill, there is still a lot to really like here, just not enough to love.

8.25/10 

Devall's Cajun Cuisine (CLOSED)

NOTE: Devall's closed in 2016.

Located at 3932 West Market Street in Greensboro, Devall’s Cajun Cuisine specializes in Cajun starters, sandwiches, and entrees for lunch and dinner. There are food and drink specials, a full service bar, and catering is available.

Though Devall’s is in walking distance and I love Cajun, I have visited only a few times since the restaurant opened last year. There are reasons for that infrequency, just as there are reasons I won’t swear off this place completely.

First, the good: Louisiana-bred owner/chef Roger Devall knows what he’s doing. The menu here is full of Cajun staples, and every one that I’ve had has been well-executed. The etouffee (available with shrimp or catfish) in particular is a standout: the rich brown roux is addictive. The red beans and rice features a nice, spicy Andouille and provides the hearty comfort of a stew. The jambalaya is quite good too albeit markedly different from the more familiar Creole style: this one is drier and smokier without a strong tomato presence.

Stray from Cajun, however, and the quality varies. The hush puppies, long and oddly shaped as they may be, are served fresh and are above average, and the cheesy twice-baked potato earns no complaints. But the coleslaw lacks much flavor, and on a recent visit, a steak ordered medium well came out leather tough (a mistake that our apologetic server did try to remedy).

Other aspects of  Devall’s are similarly hit-and-miss. The establishment is small, and the bead-adorned bar area with the television gives off sports bar vibes. However, the inviting red walls and tastefully placed Mardi Gras décor add considerably more class. Every server I’ve ever had here has been attentive and personable, but the kitchen operates at a leisurely pace. Most entrees are priced in the teens, certainly not a bad value for the quantity, but one wishes the sides were on par with the mains.

Devall’s location – in a half-abandoned shopping center between Guilford Country Republican Party Headquarters and a Chinese restaurant – isn’t doing it any favors, so here’s hoping it can stay afloat. The restaurant is by no means a sure thing, but there is enough here to make it at least an occasional option.

7.5/10

The Drop

In Brooklyn, unassuming Bob Saginowski (Tom Hardy) tends bar for his Cousin Marv (James Gandolfini), the former owner who was pushed out by ruthless Chechen gangsters. The bar occasionally serves an underworld money drop, and a recent robbery leaves the Chechens angry and suspicious. Meanwhile, Bob finds himself caring for an abused and abandoned puppy brought to him by the mysterious Nadia (Noomi Rapace). Though he is reluctant at first, Bob takes to the dog, whom he dubs Rocco. Dog ownership brings Bob closer to Nadia, but it also invites trouble in the form of Eric Deeds (Matthias Schoenaerts), Rocco’s psychotic former owner.

Though modern Brooklyn has gentrified in recent years, the borough remains a go-to backdrop for mean streets and shady doings. That The Drop would make use of this locale is no surprise. That it would do it so well despite its pedigree is a bit of a shocker. Writer Dennis Lehane, who adapted his short story “Animal Rescue” is a diehard Bostonian while director Michael Roskam is a Belgian making his American film debut. Add to that a cast led by an Englishman and a Swede, and it’s amazing how convincing this film pulls off “the neighborhood.”

Of course, sense of place isn’t the only asset here. The pacing is wonderfully taut with nary a wasted minute (at least until the last five or so). Roskam’s camera work and Marco Beltrami’s score work to imbue paranoid tension. Watching the goings-on leaves you with the unavoidable sense that something terrible is going to happen, but Lehane’s story cleverly plays with whom the audience expects to find in the crossfire.

This misdirection is made possible by Hardy’s complex, layered performance. Like his idol Gary Oldman, Hardy has proven capable of incredible transformation, and he slips seamlessly into his role here. We see Bob as something of a laid-back loser, but we also know, through bits of dialogue and pivotal gestures (he seems awfully handy with saran wrap) that there is more to him than meets the eye.

Hardy is very nearly equaled by Gandolfini, who makes his last performance a memorable one. At first, the bearded, balding Marv seems like an anti-Tony Soprano, a washed-up schlub grubbing for lost respect. However, the two characters actually have quite a bit in common. Like Tony, Marv is a bad man made sympathetic by his generosity toward friends and family and the presence of even worse people around him. And like Tony, Marv will lie, scheme, and use violence for personal gain, all while still garnering his share of apologists and defenders.

The remaining portrayals are somewhat less glowing. Rapace gives Nadia some street smarts and mystique, but her accent slips to a distracting degree. Schoenaerts plays Deeds like a pathetic-if-volatile mental case rather than a classic bully, which makes him simultaneously easier to believe and to dismiss. John Ortiz, the cast’s rare actual Brooklynite, plays well off of Hardy as a sly detective who knows more than he lets on.

If there is one knock against The Drop, it is that it isn’t transformative. It doesn’t deconstruct or rehabilitate the crime film or call attention to the genre the way that Goodfellas did, and there is an air of familiarity about it. It is less “epic” and more “story,” but it is a story that is told nearly perfectly.

8.25/10

Chef Samir Shaltout

Located at 4212 West Wendover Avenue in Greensboro, Chef Samir Shaltout serves Egyptian cuisine for lunch and dinner. Hot and cold appetizers, salads, beef/chicken/fish/seafood/vegetarian entrees, tagines, pasta dishes, and desserts are among the menu offerings. Alcohol is not served, but catering is available.

Television is flooded these days with clueless wannabe restaurateurs who are in dire need of rescuing (often by a stern, British-accented kitchen veteran). Chef Samir Shaltout is the antithesis of all that. His eponymous eatery serves up fantastic food, crafted with competence and care. Whether a newcomer to Egyptian cuisine or one who knows what to expect, there is a lot to love here.

The location isn’t one of those things. Sharing a plaza with a Staples on Wendover, the establishment is small and awkwardly placed. The dark interior isn’t by any means shabby, but it lacks the colorful ambiance of a Cleopatra’s. In the grand scheme of things, however, this proves to be quite a minor letdown.

Chef Samir’s menu is varied and large. It offers most of the familiar Egyptian staples – hummus, babaganoush, falafel, shawerma, kabobs, etc. – as well as some appeals to the American propensity for eating large (cases-in-point: a half duck or a whole fish fried or broiled). For our first visit, we opted for a babaganoush starter and a mixed grill (chicken and beef shawerma, chicken, beef and kofta kabobs, rice, and salad). The appetizer was creamy and fresh with lemon notes. All of the meats in the entrée were juicy and well-seasoned, and the kofta kabob in particular had a lot of flavor. The herb rice, however, seemed too understated.

Pricing here is as varied as the menu. Appetizers run $4 to $6 and most entrees are in the teens. However, you can easily build a meal through a few of the starters. In addition, the mixed grill proved a good option for two: there’s no plate sharing fee. For $19, the portion was certainly adequate though plating could have been a touch more delicate (everything was piled together on one dish).

Thankfully, the service was held to the same standard as the food. Our server was friendly and fast. He happily shared favorite dishes and answered questions. Chef Samir dutifully made his rounds as well, a welcome gesture of accommodation.

A deep menu and consistent execution are often at odds with each other, but Chef Samir proves that both are attainable in the right hands. If you can get over the location, you’ll likely leave happy.

8.5/10

Foothills Brewing

Located at 638 West Fourth Street in downtown Winston-Salem, Foothills Brewing serves craft beers and brewpub fare (apps, soups, salads, sandwiches, and entrees). There are daily specials and specialty beers rotate seasonally. Catering, party hosting, and outdoor seating are available. Foothills also hosts live music and entertainment.

After sampling their wares at a local event a little while back, Foothills became a must-see for our next visit to Winston. The in-person experience did not disappoint. The spacious pub is adorned with brick and wood for a classic look, and there are different areas (dining room, bar, and patio) to accommodate different seating preferences. The real draw here is the selection. From the dozen-plus locally brewed beers to the unexpectedly versatile (Vegetarian? At a brewpub?) menu, there is quite a bit to like beyond the anticipated wings and burgers.

For our first visit, we started with Ale-Battered Shrooms. They were batter-heavy – which was not a problem, the batter was good – and came with both a tasty homemade ranch and a mild horseradish sauce. There were quite a few to the plate, which helped justify the $6.99 pricetag. I then followed this with the Brewhouse Cuban. The juicy, beer-braised pulled pork gave the sandwich a flavor unlike any other Cuban I’ve ever encountered, and it – along with the mustard (a combination of three different types) – made for a delectable bite. The fries that accompanied it were nice and crisp though in the future, I’ll ask for traditional ketchup. The house-made ale-infused variety was oddly sweet. My companion, who opted to go lighter with a Greek Vegetable Pita, seemed satisfied with both the fresh vegetables and the warm, fluffy bread. Her side, a cucumber-tomato-feta salad, was similarly successful.

Both sandwiches were $9.99 apiece with a side included (premium sides, such as homemade chips, invite an upcharge), way north of being a bargain, but not high enough to merit outrage. Service was a just bit on the slow side though our server was helpful in making recommendations, steering my companion toward a coffee porter that was clean, bold, and free from bitterness.

On a busy Friday or Saturday night, Foothills Brewery may tell quite a different story, but on a Monday afternoon, it met and surpassed all expectations. And while it may not impress well-traveled pubsters, it safely ranks among the best breweries the Triad has to offer.

8.5/10

Grand Budapest Hotel

Beside his monument, a girl reads the memoirs of a famous author. From his desk in 1985, the author (Tom Wilkinson) tells his tale. In the late 1960s, he (Jude Law) journeyed to an impoverished communist-run European republic and visited the once-esteemed Grand Budapest Hotel. The author happens to come across the hotel’s humble, enigmatic owner, Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham), who then shares his story. In the early 1930s, young Zero (Tony Revolori) joins the hotel’s staff as a lobby boy under Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), the hypercompetent concierge who romances wealthy older female guests. When one such guest, the aristocratic Madame D (Tilda Swinton) dies unexpectedly, she wills a valuable painting to Gustave, much to the chagrin of her scheming, belligerent son, Dmitri (Adrien Brody). Though Gustave soon finds himself in a lot of trouble, Zero becomes his heir and accomplice.

Wes Anderson’s latest quirky, ensemble-driven concoction is very much in keeping with the spirit of his prior successes while still offering something new. As is Anderson’s wont, artifice is on full display here: fake setting, fake newspapers, even fake nationalities (This makes Brody’s part as a supposedly European nobleman with a New York snarl all the more hilarious). Indeed, style – which includes exaggeratedly bright hues and a perfectly paired Alexandre Desplat score – takes center stage.

However, there is a considerable amount of substance behind that style. The ugly specter of fascism (and, later, communism) looms large here, as do classism, nativism, and a number of ugly –isms. Grand Budapest Hotel shows that even a director as whimsical (and there is plenty of whimsy here) as Anderson isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and with a few gruesome murders and a good, old-fashioned shootout, this is easily his darkest film to date.

That darkness is offset by the stealth humor of the script and the incandescence of the cast. From the main players to the fleeting cameos, this film is impeccably cast. Fiennes has an air of irrepressible handiness (even whilst cursing and preparing to die), Willem Dafoe injects menace as Dmitri’s hired thug, and Saorise Ronan lends a plucky determination (and finally gets to use her native Irish accent!) as Agatha, a baker who wins Zero’s affection. Among the smaller roles, Harvey Keitel leaves an impression as a tattooed convict and a number of famous faces (Owen Wilson, Jason Schwartzman, Bob Balaban, and, of course, Bill Murray) play disaffected hotel staffers.

If there is one shortcoming here, it is that Grand Budapest Hotel, in contrast to a great many other films, isn’t long enough. The story feels truncated, particularly with regard to Zero and Agatha’s relationship and the aftermath of Gustave’s heroics. This is undoubtedly intended to foster a sense of loss (the past can’t all be whimsical, after all), but it contributes to the film’s smallness.

While Anderson aficionados will find a lot of familiar idiosyncrasies here, you don’t have to like – or even be familiar with – his work to appreciate this film. Elegant aesthetics and a deceptively smart script make Grand Budapest Hotel well worth a visit.

8.5/10

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For

In sordid Basin City, corruption and violence are a way of life. Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a hotshot young gambler, rolls into town to challenge the powerful Senator Roarke (Powers Boothe) in high-stakes poker, but there is more than money up for grabs for both men. Dwight McCarthy (Josh Brolin), a repentant private detective looking to leave his old life behind, gets sucked back in when old flame Ava Lord (Eva Green) seeks his help. He knows she can only lead to trouble, but he just can’t help himself. Exotic dancer Nancy Callahan (Jessica Alba) is haunted by memories of Detective Hartigan (Bruce Willis), who sacrificed himself to keep her safe. Gradually losing her sanity, Nancy tries to find a way to avenge Hartigan by taking out the man responsible for his downfall: the untouchable Roarke. In the midst of all this stands Marv (Mickey Rourke), an unhinged bruiser who helps the innocent and punishes the guilty in supremely bloody fashion.

In 2005, director Robert Rodriguez staged a coup when he faithfully – and successfully – translated comic book writer Frank Miller’s paean to hard-boiled noir to the big screen. After a lengthy nine-year wait, this continuation continues to remain faithful to Miller’s vision albeit with less success this time around.

At first glance, the drop-off is puzzling. A Dame to Kill For retains many of the previous film’s key players (Rourke, Boothe, Alba, Willis, Rosario Dawson, and others return) with a few substitutions (Brolin for Dwight Owen, Dennis Haysbert for the late Michael Clark Duncan) and new faces (Green, Gordon Levitt, Christopher Meloni). It also retains the original’s style and sensibility, which is to say bleak, ultra-violent, and visually striking. But what was novel (a pitch-black digital underworld) in 2005 has lost a bit of its luster in 2014.

Another shortcoming here is the confusing continuity. Like its predecessor, a Dame to Kill For consists of loosely connected vignettes (the title story is taken from the comics; the others are new creations penned by Miller himself) that share characters and themes. Some are set prior to episodes in the first film while others take place several years later. Trying to keep up with who is supposed to be dead or alive or intact or disfigured at any given point becomes a laborious task.

The quality of the episodes themselves varies. In the title story, Brolin offers a different (re: less cool and composed, more struggling to keep it together) take on Dwight than Owen albeit not an inferior one. Williamson lends some more depth to the character Manute, a hulking-but-eloquent enforcer whereas Meloni’s casting echoes his most famous television-cop role. Green tries her damndest to pull off a stole femme fatale, but her French accent is occasionally distracting, and she seems too young to have such a sordid past. Rumored choices Angelina Jolie and Rachel Weisz may have fared better here.

Johnny’s tale – “The Long Bad Night” – is probably the strongest piece here. Gordon-Levitt turns in a strong performance as a cocksure young man who knows a lot more than he lets on. His antics win the admiration-turned-loathing of Roarke, which allows Booth to add a veneer of affability to what was previously a one-dimensionally malevolent character (the faux-chumminess actually makes him more dastardly). The episode also treats us to a rare, humorous Christopher Lloyd cameo as a degenerate back-alley doctor.

“Nancy’s Last Dance” features both some of the strongest acting and weakest plotting of the whole film. Nancy may expose herself for a living, but she is a complex, tormented character, and Alba shines in plumbing the depth of her guilt, self-awareness, and suffering. It’s also nice to see Willis back even if he’s only here for a brief appearance, and Rourke is having a blast as Marv. But the machinations of Nancy’s revenge are both overly simplistic (and insulting to her character development), and the hint of the supernatural the film drops toward the end undermines the payoff.

A Dame to Kill For satisfies on a visceral level with its stylish brutality, but it still comes across as a missed opportunity. Had it not taken so long to produce, had more of the original casting choices worked out, had Miller not entered a period of decline as a writer, this may have been on par with the original. Instead, it’s a somewhat disappointing – but still worthwhile – slice of sequeldom.

7.5/10

Nine Mile

Located at 233 Montford Avenue in Asheville (with an additional location in West Asheville), Nine Mile specializes in Caribbean cuisine. Entrees focus on fish, seafood, and chicken, and there are both vegetarian and gluten-free options. Beer, wine, and cocktails are available, and specials change daily.

Named for Bob Marley’s hometown, Nine Mile offers feel-good food worthy of the reggae legend’s name. The interior of the Montford location is your classic dark tavern enlivened by Jamaican flag trim and colorful, distinctive wall art. It makes for some nice ambiance, but the main draw here is the food.

About that food: this place knows fish. Tilapia, trout, tuna, salmon, and Mahi are among the regular offerings, and they come in a variety of iterations. You will find the expected jerk seasoning here, but you’ll also find maple glazes and white wine sauces. The Mayfield Falls is a favorite (even if the fish did come slightly overcooked the last time I ordered it): grilled Mahi with a jicama mint salsa and a coconut cream sauce over pasta or rice. Flake the fish and mix well, and it’s a mouthful of heaven in every bite. Another solid option is the Soon Come, which blends tri-colored cheese tortellini with bananas, apples, currants, and pineapples. The fruit may sound like gimmickry, but the sweetness balances the white wine butter sauce quite well. No matter what you order, you’ll get to sample a house-made dressing over a side salad. The sesame garlic tahini is a winner.

Given both the quality and quantity (plan on leftovers) of the food, pricing plenty reasonable. The vegetarian and chicken dishes tend to run between $11 and $13 while fish and seafood dishes are in the mid-to-upper teens. Go for lunch, and the prices drop to the $8 to $10 range.

Nine Mile’s one drawback is that service can be slow. This is exacerbated by the restaurant’s popularity as a weekend dinner destination. Come here anticipating a leisurely meal, and you should do fine. But come here starving and ready to eat right away, and you may rue the decision.

Fresh, vibrant, and flavorful, Nine Mile’s Jamaican creations are a worthy lure to anyone in the Asheville area.

8.5/10

Guardians of the Galaxy

When the Kree Empire signs a peace treaty with the planet Xandar (home of the galactic police force Nova Corps), fanatical Kree warlord Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace) refuses to honor it. Instead, he conspires to retrieve a mysterious orb for Thanos the Mad Titan (Josh Brolin) in exchange for the latter destroying Xandar. Meanwhile, in a Xandarian prison, an uneasy alliance forms to keep the orb out of dangerous hands. The unlikely heroes include Peter “Star-Lord” Quill (Chris Pratt), an Earth-born thief, Gamora (Zoe Saldana), an adopted daughter of Thanos reluctantly pressed into his service as an assassin, Drax the Destroyer (Dave Bautista), a warrior seeking revenge on Ronan for the death of his family, and Rocket (voice of Bradley Cooper) and Groot (voice of Vin Diesel), a genetically modified raccoon bounty hunter and his tree-like bodyguard.

This latest contribution to the Marvel Cinematic Universe offers a metanarrative that closely mirrors the on-screen presentation. Just as the titular guardians are looked upon as a “bunch of A-holes” by the Xandarian Authority, everything about this film – the relatively obscure source material, the writer-director of questionable pedigree (James Gunn, who previously penned Scooby Doo sequels and Troma films), the oddball cast (fronted by a sitcom star and prominently featuring a pro wrestler), etc. – invites raised eyebrows. But just as the guardians find a way to work together, so too do these film’s disparate elements. The result, even given the MCU’s overall winning track record, is an unexpected success.

Ultimately, the biggest asset here is the pitch-perfect tone. Whereas the last MCU film (Captain America: The Winter Soldier), was edgy and topical, this one opts for irreverent and fun. Quill, for instance, goes to absurd lengths to protect his Walkman and busts out 70s pop songs at the most inopportune times. Drax, on the other hand, has no grasp of idiom or tact and is as awkward a speaker as he is capable a fighter. “Green whore” thus becomes a term of endearment coming from him to Gamora. The talking, gun-toting raccoon with anger issues and good-natured (unless you make him mad) giant tree are regarded every bit as ridiculous in a world full of aliens as they are in our universe, but Raccoon’s banter and Groot’s ocassional bumbling are nevertheless entertaining.

Despite all this zaniness, the film is not without stakes. The villains are dark, deep-voiced, and full of gravitas. Pace overacts with scenery-swalloing conviction and Brolin makes the most of his brief screen time to deliver epic-sounding threats (“I’ll bathe the starways in your blood!”). In fact, there are no weak spots among the cast. Pratt uses his inherent goofiness to mask both competence and pain. Saldona taps into her character’s inner conflict and functions as the film’s heart. Cooper channels Joe Pesci’s Napoleon syndrome, and Vin Diesel remains that rare voice actor who can wring maximum impact from minimal dialog (a la The Iron Giant). Even Bautista’s limited range and wooden acting fit his character quite well. One does wish Glenn Close (who appears briefly as the head of the Nova Corps) had more to do here, though.

Stylistically, Guardians of the Galaxy mixes kinetic action, slapstick (most scenes involving Groot), and and the sounds of the 70s to surprisingly good effect. There is just so much going on here – and so much of it refreshingly random – that we never catch our breath long enough to ponder the ridiculousness of what we’re seeing. One notable exception is the CGI-heavy final showdown, which stretches on too long and comes across as both visually and thematically (Power of Friendship! Yay!) hokey.

Unlike other Marvel films, Guardians of the Galaxy doesn’t do much to tip its hand as to the future direction of the MCU. Yes, Thanos appears, and Benicio Del Toro’s flamboyant Collector returns, but we don’t know what impact, if any, the guardians’ exploits will have back on Earth. And quite frankly, we don’t care. Taken on its own, Guardians of the Galaxy is a fun, funky film that shows that even the unlikeliest seeds can blossom.

8.25/10

Cheesecakes by Alex

Located at 315 South Elm Street in downtown Greensboro, Cheesecakes by Alex specializes in cheesecakes (available both by the slice and as whole cakes via pre-order). Other cakes, muffins, cupcakes, pastries, and coffee drinks are also available.

Cheesecakes by Alex is the gold standard for desserts in Greensboro. The titular cheesecakes come in more than a dozen flavors, and I've yet to try one that was anything less than excellent. The creme brulee has a delectably crunchy sugar coating while the Kahlua espresso balances its coffee flavor with a chocolatey crust. If cheesecake isn't your thing, there are plenty of other baked goods (other cakes, cannoli, biscotti, etc.) to choose from here as well.

One would expect to pay a premium given the quality - and the downtown location - but prices are surprisingly reasonable. Further, the counter staff are patient with patrons who struggle to make up their minds, a frequent sight to be certain. The two seating areas - one indoors, one outside - ensure that crowding isn't a problem.

While it would be nice if Cheesecakes by Alex recycled plates and utensils, that's a relatively small nit to pick. All told, this is a must-stop for anyone in downtown Greensboro who is craving something sweet.

9.25/10

Los Cabos Mexican Grill (CLOSED)

NOTE: Los Cabos has closed. Pedro's Taco Shop has opened in its location.

Located at 948 Walker Avenue in Greensboro’s College Hill neighborhood, Los Cabos serves Mexican appetizers and entrees as well as vegetarian items and a la carte tacos. Vegetarian items are available, as are lunch combos and daily food and drink specials.

Years ago, this space used to be occupied by El Carreton, a fairly dreadful Mexican restaurant that stayed afloat by virtue of offering cheap eats and drinks right near UNCG’s campus. Its successor, Los Cabos, is an upgrade in many respects, but it still probably benefits most from its proximity to campus.

Location aside, Los Cabos does have one other major point in its favor: the service is excellent. During a recent visit, the front-of-house staff were friendly and inviting while our server was both accommodating and fast, a real pro. That, plus the interior décor (we sat in front of a captivating dolphin mural) create a welcoming environment.

Unfortunately, the food is a major disappointment. The menu offers the usual suspects (tacos, quesadillas, fajitas, and some familiar entrees) without any unique standouts. The lunch specials are quite affordable, but entrée pricing ($10-plus on almost everything) offers no great value, particularly given the neighborhood. An order of carnitas had some semblance of seasoning, but the meat was dry and slightly tough. A spinach and mushroom quesadilla, on the other hand, wasn’t overcooked, but the flavors were flat. Nothing here merited an “mmm,” let alone a “muy bien!”

For College Hill denizens, Los Cabos fulfills a need: it’s Mexican within walking distance. And while its predecessor showed how much worse that could be, it still doesn’t offer much of a lure to anyone outside the UNCG area.

6.5/10

Los Gordos Mexican Cafe (MOVED)

NOTE: Los Gordos is now located at 2505 Battleground Avenue in Greensboro with La Deliciosa Michioacana now occupying its former location.

Located at 3821 High Point Road in Greensboro, Los Gordos serves Tex-Mex cuisine for lunch and dinner Tuesday through Sunday. Lunch specials, daily drink specials, and catering are available.

As the name (gordo means “fat”) attests, this is not an eatery for the health-conscious or weak-stomached. Whatever you try here, it is likely to look greasy and sloppy…and taste delicious. If you can hazard that and the somewhat inconvenient location (in a shopping plaza behind another shopping plaza off High Point Road), Los Gordos offers a take on Mexican unlike any other in the area.

Those who thumb their noses at the Tex-Mex designation will find familiar targets among the burritos and enchiladas, but look past the label, and you’ll see some flair. Your complimentary chips come with two very different sauces (one red, one green, both homemade), and the menu includes touches like seabass and chicken with mushroom sauce.

For my first visit, I went with the gordo plate, a sampler of carnitas, chicken, steak, fish, and shrimp. The pork was incredibly tender and left me wanting more. The shrimp were surprisingly large and seasoned well. The onions were nicely caramelized. Even the two items that were less-than-stellar individually (a thick and doughy flour tortilla and somewhat bland yellow rice) worked when mixed with everything else on the plate. My companion’s pollo Rosita (the aforementioned chicken and mushroom sauce) was a similar success: the chicken was buttery and the sauce infused plenty of flavor.

Other high marks go to service and décor. Our waiter was fast, friendly, and at ease answering questions and making recommendations. The atmosphere is open and tavern-like without being divey. You can certainly get cheaper Mexican in the area, but prices were hardly objectionable (my combo platter ran $14 and many entrees were a few dollars less).

Given that Mexican cuisine is far more diverse than we gringos give it credit for, ranking Los Gordos (or any competing establishment) as the “best” or “most authentic” Mexican in the area is inherently problematic. However, it demonstrates that “Tex-Mex” needn’t be a culinary slur, and, if your stomach can handle it, promises a satisfying meal.

8.25/10

Mr. Mercedes

After running down a crowd of job seekers using a stolen car, demented Brady Hartsfeld anonymously contacts retired police detective Bill Hodges, hoping to goad the listless ex-cop into committing suicide. Instead, he spurs Hodges into action, prompting him to launch an off-the-books investigation aimed at taking the Mercedes Killer down. The more Hartsfeld and Hodges push each other’s buttons, the higher the stakes become for them both.

Marketed as a departure for Stephen King – a straight-up mystery/thriller without supernatural elements – Mr. Mercedes will hardly seem novel to the author’s longtime readers. After all, King has struck paydirt outside the horror genre (Shawshank Redemption, anyone?) before. Furthermore, some of his most chilling antagonists are not the otherworldly creatures who commit evil for evil’s sake but flesh-and-blood people – terrible people, but people just the same. Brady Hartsfeld is a welcome continuation of this tradition, and King does well to explore his perspective. What emerges is a portrait of a nihilistic, sociopathic genius with a tragic life and a burning hatred for everyone. King makes him pitiable but no less monstrous. By steering him away from cliché, King leaves us dreading a nemesis that could very well exist instead of yawning at a straw-abomination that can’t.

The bad guy isn’t the only well-defined character here, though. King’s heroes tend to be everyman-types who, through desperate circumstances, become hardened survivors or unlikely chosen ones destined to combat evil. Bill Hodges is a welcome subversion of all of that. Though he starts at a position of nominal heroism as a former police officer, Hodges is old, fat, and full of self-recrimination. Even as he becomes fully engaged in the case, he is beleaguered by physical limitations. This forces him to be a more cerebral hero albeit one who is not afraid to cross some ethical lines.

Unfortunately, the supporting cast isn’t nearly as well-drawn. Jerome, an intellectual black youth who acts as Hodges’ right hand, has a sarcastic, subservient alter ego…who inexplicably talks like Stepin Fetchit. As embarrassing as this characterization is, it still isn’t as painful to read as that of Holly, a cousin of one of Hartsfeld’s victims. King has long been enamored of the Magic Child, only instead of a boy with telepathy or a girl with pyrokinesis, he’s shoehorned the trope into a sheltered, mentally unbalanced middle-aged woman with improbable computer skills. That she takes on such a pivotal role in the plot despite not appearing until the middle of the book makes her all the more insufferable.

Despite these shortcomings, King still knows how to spin a good yarn. Mr. Mercedes moves briskly and keeps the reader invested in Hodges and Hartsfeld’s increasingly diabolical attempts to get under each other’s skin. Though we know who they are right away, watching them make discoveries about each other keeps the pages turning. Only the ending – contrived, circumstantial, and unsatisfyingly anticlimactic – rings a false note.

Mr. Mercedes is far from King’s finest novel, but it is also far from his worst. Though he proves incapable (or perhaps unwilling) of breaking entirely free from well-worn clichés, he still manages to apply his time-honed storytelling to a different kind of story. That makes Mr. Mercedes, if nothing else, a pleasant diversion, worth at least a test drive.

7.75/10

Nostra Pizza and Italian

NOTE: Nostra's non-pizza offerings have been quite uneven. The 8 rating stands for pizza, but pasta and sandwiches are in the 6.5 - 7.25 range.


Located at 3900 West Market Street in Greensboro, Nostra Pizza and Italian offers pizza, stromboli, calzones, sandwiches, pasta dishes, and more. Lunch specials are available as is delivery.

As a native of northern New Jersey, I’ve always had a soft spot for Italian-American cuisine. There is something comforting in the familiar pasta-and-red sauce, and it’s all the better when it’s in walking distance. So when Nostra opened at the former Elizabeth’s Pizza location, I had reason to be satisfied. Two visits later, and much of that satisfaction is still there.

Inside, Nostra isn’t particularly large, but it doesn’t feel at all cramped. Comfortable booths and wall art elevate the décor above that of a standard pizza parlor. There was one waitress during my first visit, and though a bit distracted, she was unfailingly polite.

Nostra’s menu offers everything you’d expect, plus a few perks like lobster ravioli. Pricing is quite reasonable: every entrée runs between $10 and $13 and includes bread and soup or salad. Many of the entrees can be had with bread and a drink during weekday lunch hours for a mere $8 to $9.

The execution has room for improvement, but it hits more than it misses. An order of gnocchi Bolognese came with a so-so salad, an abundance of melted cheese, and a sauce that was a touch too sweet for my liking, but the bread was excellent and the gnocchi were cooked well. The regular stromboli featured a crust that some may find too crisp, but the meats (ham, salami, and pepperoni) were quality, and the well-herbed marinara sauce tasted homemade.

I’ve yet to try Nostra’s New York-style pizza, and how well they pull that off could be a significant difference-maker. Right now, Nostra shows enough promise to rate as a convenient takeout option and a welcome addition to the immediate vicinity.

UPDATE

My girlfriend was kind enough to procure me a slice of sausage pizza, and it did not disappoint. The slice was huge (comparable to Mario's) and a good value at $3 or so. The pizza sauce, like the marinara, tasted fresh with distinct herb notes, and the sausage was above par. The crust, while thin and crisp, could have used more flavor (some garlic, perhaps?).

8/10 

Wasabi Japanese Restaurant & Sushi Bar (CLOSED)

NOTE: Wasabi has since closed.

Located at 4630 West Market Street in Greensboro, Wasabi offers sushi and other Japanese specialties for lunch and dinner. Appetizers, hibachi, and noodle dishes are available as are wines, beers, and sakes.

Proximity can be a dangerous lure. In some cases, one discovers nearby gems. In other cases, one is reminded that quality is worth traveling for. Wasabi unfortunately imparted the latter lesson. The restaurant is about a mile from home and features ample parking, but one visit was all it took to remind me that Don is worth the Tate Street hassle.

Though visually appealing from the outside, Wasabi’s innards are dark and dated. It was probably handsome in its heyday, but that day has passed. Having Barry Manilow piped in adds to the unappealing ambiance.

To Wasabi’s credit, the menu boasts a bountiful selection. In addition to the usual fare, there are higher-end hibachi dishes (Ahi tuna), intriguing sushi rolls (snapper, masago, and parmesan cheese?!), and a couple of Korean influences. Prices, however, are higher than expected. Even a basic chicken hibachi ran $14 (with miso or salad), and brown rice is $1 more. Opt for a combination, fish, or steak, and you’re approaching steakhouse prices.

This would be forgivable if the food was outstanding, but it was a major disappointment. My companion and I both went with hibachi dishes (bulgogi and pork katsu respectively) and house salads. The ginger dressing on the salads (a favorite elsewhere) was a nearly inedible paste here. The katsu was chewy and dry, and the accompanying sauce overly acidic. The beef in the bulgogi was at least tender and seasoned well, but it came poorly cut in ungainly strips. The dish, which featured a few onions and carrot shreds, also could have used more vegetables.

Wasabi’s service is adequate and the sushi may very well be better than the entrees we sampled, but we have no inclination to find out. Next time a Japanese craving hits, we’ll stray farther from home.

6/10

Villa Del Mar Cocina Mexicana

Located at 3738 High Point Road in Greensboro, Villa Del Mar offers Mexican cuisine for lunch and dinner. Though there is an emphasis on seafood, beef, chicken, pork, goat, and vegetarian items are also available. The restaurant offers 99 cent tacos on Tuesdays and Thursdays as well as other specials.

Villa Del Mar is a place I have driven past daily en route to work for years but never thought to stop in. Curiosity recently got the better of me (on a day off, ironically), and while it wasn’t what I expected, I’m glad I gave it a try.

The restaurant’s small lot and bar-like ambiance (there’s a loud and somewhat annoying door chime) may inspire some degree of trepidation, but looking over the menu will lift your spirits. The selection here is tremendous. You can get the expected fare (i.e. enchiladas and fajitas), but with an oyster bar, slow-roasted bbq goat, and ceviche are among your options, you should really reconsider. The pricing is also wallet-friendly: you’ll pay a meager $3 to $5 for lunch specials, and even the pricier seafood entrees tend to run under $15 (lobster tail notwithstanding).

Execution was uneven but not to the point of discouragement. Because I was pleasantly surprised to find it on the menu, I went with a seafood paella for my first visit. It ended up being a far cry from its Valencian standard-bearer and included one meager clam. However, the bits of octopus were a nice touch, and the shrimp were cooked well. My companion’s order of carnitas was tender and tasty and none too dry but could have benefitted from some verde sauce (which was included with several other pork dishes). Service was attentive, but order-to-table time could be quicker.

Villa Del Mar does not offer the best Mexican in town, but it does distinguish itself from a throng of competitors via its menu and pricing. For those reasons alone, I won’t hesitate to come back.

7.75/10

Her

Sad-sack writer Theodore Twombley (Joaquin Phoenix), emotionally devastated by his pending divorce, purchases an advanced artificial intelligence operating system (Scarlett Johansson) to help him manage his life. The OS, which dubs itself Samantha, is programmed with the ability to learn and grow. It isn’t long before she and Theodore form a deep attachment to one another, but can they make it work?

“Lonely man falls for iPhone” would be one way to synopsize this bizarre, intriguing, deeply flawed film. “Spike Jonze wears too many hats” would be another. Jonze, primarily a director, experienced his greatest success partnering with writer Charlie Kaufman on Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. But just as Kaufman’s directorial debut (Synecdoche, New York) collapsed under its own weight, Her (which Jonze wrote and produced as well as directed) goes off the rails.

Characterization is the biggest culprit here. It is fine to have a protagonist that isn’t especially likeable – see Walter White – but he has to at least be interesting. While Twombley’s creepy mustache and terrible fashion sense leave a distinct visual impression, the character himself is rather one-dimensional. We get that he is longing for an emotional connection in the wake of his break-up, but he’s chasing fulfillment the way that a teenager in a bad sex comedy chases a chance to score. We don’t really get to see what else makes him tick – or what drew anyone to him in the first place. Meanwhile, his ex (Rooney Mara) is positioned as something of an antagonist, despite raising perfectly valid criticisms of Twombley and his life choices. The film also manages to waste Amy Adams, who does a deglamorized turn as Twombley’s supportive friend/confidant. From the moment she makes an appearance, her role in the story is preordained. Ironically, the best performance here belongs to Johansson, who has more limitations (both in terms of acting chops and her character being voice-only) than anyone else in the cast. While Samantha begins as little more than a digitized male fantasy, by the film’s end, she’s easily the film’s best-developed character: self-aware, conflicted, and, ultimately, driven to make a difficult choice.

Pacing is another problem. At 126 minutes, Her is hardly an epic, but it drags. Supposedly, Steven Soderbergh had the film edited down to 90 minutes, but Jonze opted for a longer cut. This is a pity: with less time to wallow and bloviate, Her could have better sustained the intrigue of its premise.

And despite its other shortcomings, Her does offer quite an intriguing premise. With a near-future setting and a conceivable plot device (advanced AI), Jonze is able to probe the nature of relationships and what it means to be human in a way that is fresh. Certain elements of the plot may not be novel, but the way in which the film plays with those elements – and audience expectations – certainly is. Add in a distinctive look (a bright, color-saturated world) and an idiosyncratic sound (courtesy of Arcade Fire), and Her is far from a total loss.

With its creative approach and talented pedigree, Her created high expectations that its wasteful characterization and bloated runtime ultimately betray. Disappointment or not, however, it is still worth a look. You’ll want to put your phone down when watching though.

7.5/10

Console Wars

At the dawn of the 1990s, Nintendo enjoys virtually monopolistic control of the video game industry thanks to the success of its wildly popular 8-bit NES system. Looking to shake up the status quo, competitor Sega hires former Mattel executive Tom Kalinske to make its new 16-bit system, the Genesis, a success. Kalinske’s willingness to embrace outside-the-box thinking and edgy advertising allows Sega to challenge Nintendo’s hegemony. But as the 90s progress, strained relations between Kalinske’s branch and his Japanese parent company as well as the debut of Nintendo’s own 16-bit console turn a quest for relevance into an all-out war.

I became a Genesis owner later in the console’s lifecycle, several years after Nintendo supposedly won the console war. For that reason, Blake J. Harris’ blow-by-blow account doesn’t evoke quite the same sense of nostalgia as it would in other readers. However, it is still irresistibly interesting, both for its behind-the-scenes trivia and for the snapshot it provides of early 90s culture.

Readability is Console Wars’ biggest asset. Though diligently researched – Harris extensively interviewed several key players at both Sega and Nintendo – the book is not a dense insiders-only tract. Instead, it’s structured as a narrative with well-defined characters. There is a definite new guard-old guard dichotomy between Sega and Nintendo, but neither Kalinske nor his counterparts at Nintendo (which include former VP and current Seattle Mariners owner Howard Lincoln) are portrayed one-dimensionally.

Moreover, despite spanning over 500 pages, the book rarely drags. While it does getting bogged down in marketing minutiae at times, it sustains its momentum by alternating perspectives, granting pivotal insight into how each “side” (Sega, Nintendo, and, eventually, Sony) operated. It also rewards the reader’s patience by bringing to light a wealth of little-known or long-forgotten lore. For instance, had it not been for his untimely legal trouble, Michael Jackson would have contributed a soundtrack to a Sonic the Hedgehog game (!!).

The biggest complaint that can be lodged against Console Wars is that Harris is an uneven stylist. Some of the reconstructed dialog is hokey and not very enthralling but convincing for the 40-something executives that were supposed to have uttered it. In other places, the snark is laid on conspicuously thick.

Perhaps the strongest parallel that Console Wars draws isn’t to anything in the video game world but rather to Michael Lewis’s Moneyball. Just as you didn’t have to be a baseball fan to find that book’s narrative, characters, and underlying philosophy appealing, you don’t have to be a gamer to enjoy this one (though it certainly helps). And just like Moneyball, Console Wars will be headed to the big screen (fitting, given that Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg wrote the hilarious introduction). Until it gets there, the book will serve anyone who is at least vaguely curious how a blue hedgehog and a fat plumber came to define a generation.

8.25/10

Big Burger Spot

Located at 3750-A Battleground Ave. and at 510A Nicholas Rd. in Greensboro, Big Burger Spot specializes in burgers. Hot dogs, sandwiches, salads, and apps are also available. The Battleground location offers outdoor seating.

Being unabashedly unironic is a calculated risk in today’s world, but Big Burger Spot shows that every once in a while, you can get by with being what you say you are. True to the name, you can get big burgers here (exactly how big depends on the limitations of your wallet and your appetite), but variety and execution, rather than size, are the main drawing points.

Though limited compared to the cornucopian likes of Hop’s, Big Burger Spot offers quite a decent selection. You can get Angus beef, turkey, veggie, or (for an upcharge) bison patties on brioche or multigrain buns in third-pound (Almost Big) or half-pound (Big) iterations, with double the meat and toppings (Colossal) if you are feeling truly glutinous. The offerings range from the classic cheeseburger to regional offerings (Carolina pork BBQ, Texas beef brisket, Mediterranean hummus and yogurt, etc.), and you can always build your own. The fry selection is similarly rewarding and encompasses everything from the traditional (regular or sweet potato) to the decadent (white truffle Parmesan) to the heartburn-inducing (fully loaded nacho fries). You would be hard pressed NOT to find something that catches your eye here.

The execution had a few hiccups, but the results were still better than most burger joint offerings. I went with a Lonestar burger (brisket/pepperjack/crispy onions) and declined the optional jalapeno relish; BBQ sauce made for a better fit. My companion opted for a mushroom Swiss burger, and we split an order of pesto garlic aioli fries. Both burgers were ordered medium and came out juicy and covered with flavorful toppings – the mushrooms in particular were above-par. However, my companion questioned the lack of a sesame bun and found the croissant-like brioche somewhat offputting. The fries certainly weren’t lacking in seasoning but weren’t as strong as expected: they fell into the “infused” rather than the “slathered” category. Still, they made for a good pairing.

Big Burger Spot’s pricing is fair for the quality of ingredients used. The “Almost” burgers ranged from $5 to $7 without any sides and fries were in the $2 to $4.69 range. If you’re accustomed to fast food burger pricing, that will seem steep, but it compares quite favorably to “boutique” burgers around town.

In another place or another time, Big Burger Spot would clearly stand out as THE burger destination. But this being Greensboro, Hop’s has that distinction locked down for the foreseeable future. Nevertheless, Big Burger Spot – faster, more casual, and slightly cheaper – makes for a compelling alternative.

8/10

The Monuments Men

In 1943, art conservator Lt. Frank Stokes (George Clooney) organizes a group of Monuments Men to safeguard Europe’s artistic and cultural treasures from the ravages of war. Working with the French resistance, the group must thwart the Nazi effort to first horde and later destroy priceless works of art.

History is full of untold and undertold stories, and the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program is one such tale. But Clooney, who also directed, wrote, and produced, does a disservice to the subject here. From a sloppy script with inept pacing and underwritten characters to a bewildering tone, The Monuments Men is also Hollywood history at its worst.

This disappointment doubles in light of the supremely talented cast. Matt Damon, Bill Murray, and John Goodman are all part of Stokes’ team while Cate Blanchett plays a fictionalized Rose Valland, a curator working behind the Nazis’ backs in occupied France. No one does a particularly bad job here, but the actors fail to elevate these characters above the level of mere functionaries. The only one with any complexity is Donald Jefferies (Hugh Bonneville), a formerly alcoholic British officer in search of redemption. It’s also telling that despite the comic credibility of the cast, the funniest lines go not to Goodman or Murray, but to Bob Balaban.

Characterization, however, is only one of several significant problems. The film has a hard time deciding what’s at stake. This is acknowledged in the narrative itself: the morality of risking lives for the sake of art and culture is debated several times. And while the film wants us to conclude that the sacrifices made were worthwhile, it doesn’t do nearly enough to win the audience over to that position. This shortcoming is abetted by the film’s often-goofy tone, which makes its more serious moments seem inauthentic and jarring. Imagine if the framing device from Saving Private Ryan was applied to a surviving member of The Dirty Dozen, and you’ll get a sense of why this doesn’t work.

With laggy pacing and wildly ahistorical Amerocentrism, The Monuments Men leaves a lot else to be desired. It isn’t a total loss – the cinematography is sharp, and the film does raise awareness of an overlooked subject – but for Clooney and everyone else involved, The Monuments Men is a monumental disappointment.

6.25/10

X-Men: Days of Future Past

In a dystopian future, the Sentinels – giant adaptive robots – hunt and exterminate mutants and oppress their human allies. A group of mutant survivors led by Professor Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart) and Erik “Magneto” Lensherr (Ian McKellen) devise a plan to send Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) back to 1973 to prevent Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence) from assassinating Sentinel creator Bolivar Trask (Peter Dinklage) and making him an anti-mutant martyr. Upon arrival in the past, Wolverine must also recruit and reunite reluctant younger Xavier (James McAvoy) and a dangerous younger Magneto (Michael Fassbender), who have had an ugly falling out.

When Superman reversed time by flying rapidly around the Earth in 1978, he helped codify the superhero movie as escapist idealism, a genre where anything could happen with the thinnest of explanations. Later films would challenge that, of course: Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy achieved an unprecedented level of gritty realism while this year’s Captain America: The Winter Soldier was both cynical and topical. This latest entry into the X-Men film series feels like a marriage of those two competing visions, bringing together the fantastic and the fathomable, the big ideas and the personal struggles. In a less abstract sense, Days of Future Past also welds the storylines of the original X-Men trilogy and the First Class reboot. That a film can make any conceivable sense of all of these disparate influences is commendable; that it does so this well is remarkable.

It helps that nearly every aspect of Day of Future Past’s production is blessed with proven talent. Bryan Singer (who helmed the first two films in the aforementioned trilogy) is back as director, bringing with him X2 editor/composer John Ottman and much (look for Halle Berry’s Storm, Shawn Ashmore’s Iceman and several cameos) of that film’s cast. They join First Class’s Matthew Vaughn and Simon Kirnberg (writers/producers) and returning cast, minus a few inter-film casualties. The source material is a modified version of X-Men writer Chris Claremont’s well-received miniseries of the same name, and the newcomers include a Golden Globe winner (Dinklage) and a current TV star (American Horror Story’s Evan Peters). If you are going to cram too many characters and creative visions into a film, this is the way to do it.

But there is more to this movie’s appeal than a preponderance of big names. It delivers a healthy dose of introspection and character growth without sacrificing entertainment. In its lighter moments, it revels in Wolverine one-liners, gaudy 70s fashions, and carefully crafted allusions and in-jokes. Peters, in his brief role as Quicksilver, is hilariously flippant, using his character’s super speed to slow down time and cause foes to punch themselves in the face. On the other hand, this is no light-hearted romp. McAvoy’s Xavier is a broken, jaded alcoholic who must rediscover hope and empathy while Mystique must grapple with what evil she feels is necessary for the greater good. And then there is Fassbender’s young Magneto, the Holocaust survivor who completes his transformation into an utterly ruthless mutant supremacist without, astonishingly, sacrificing audience sympathy. Issues of identity and a prominent existentialist current run through this movie, lending substance to the comic book canard of using power responsibly.

Despite all it has going for it, Days of Future Past also harbors some significant flaws. The premise, which isn’t even time travel (Wolverine’s “consciousness” is sent back 50 years to his 1973 body) is ridiculously convoluted, even by comic book standards. Several prominent characters are shunted aside, including Ellen Page’s Kitty Pryde, protagonist of the comic book miniseries. And despite the chaos his creations unleash, Dinklage’s Trask isn’t a particularly threatening villain. Though unethical, he lacks the menace of X2’s fanatical William Stryker (ironically, a young Stryker is Trask’s subordinate here) or various incarnations of Magneto.

Purists will likely hate the changes to the storyline and non-fans may find the character count confusing, but for the vast viewership that lies in between, Days of Future Past stands several notches above standard superhero fare, even in this age of elevated expectations. Stylish, well-acted, thoughtful, and kinetic, it has the added bonus of erasing its much-loathed predecessors (The Last Stand and Origins: Wolverine) from continuity and establishing the next film (Apocalypse) in the still-vibrant series. Not bad for a patchwork composite.

8.5/10

August: Osage County

The suicide of alcoholic poet Beverly Weston (Sam Shepard) brings his family together for a funeral in rural Oklahoma. His widow, Violet (Meryl Streep), is a shamelessly sharp-tongued pill addict suffering from oral cancer. Oldest daughter Barbara (Julia Roberts) is as headstrong as her mother, bringing her into conflict with her husband (Ewan McGregor) and teenage daughter (Abigail Breslin) alike. Middle daughter Ivy (Julianne Nicholson), who stayed behind in Oklahoma, is viewed as a disappointment and is secretly in love with her cousin, Little Charles (Benedict Cumberbatch). Youngest daughter Karen (Juliette Lewis), who fled to Florida, is oblivious to the sleazy behavior of her new fiancé, Steve (Dermot Mulroney). Together, the family tries to pick up the pieces, but the secrets they have been keeping from one another frequently threaten to boil over.

Tracy Letts’ adaptation of his Pulitzer-winning play pushes the boundaries of how much misery a film can inflict upon an audience without losing its attention. Impeccably acted and darkly comedic with a mean streak a mile wide, August: Osage County is an emotionally wrenching melodrama whose staginess sometimes gets the better of it.

To put it simply, subtlety is not in Letts’ lexicon. His characterization verges toward universally toxic, and while this makes for bold and funny moments, it takes a stellar cast to turn the Westons from caricatures to characters. A few of them are clear in their alignment (Chris Cooper’s easygoing elder Charles is hard to dislike while Mulroney’s Steve has no redeeming qualities), but most reveal in their complexity. The always reliable Streep attacks her role with aplomb, showing Violet to be as much a victim of circumstance as a selfish manipulator. Roberts does some of her best dramatic work as the foul-mouthed Barbara, whose attempts to keep her family together fail despite the force of her personality. Cumberbatch is surprisingly effective going against type as Little Charles comes across as a good-natured ne’er do well, and Margo Martindale is solid as his cynical, disapproving mother. On the other hand, McGregor and Breslin feel underutilized, a shame given their talents.

If you can look past the strength of the acting – admittedly, no easy task – what remains is decidedly less impressive. August: Osage County is a decidedly talky film with little in the way of plot or inertia. Though there are a few shots of the desolate plains, the setting comes across as occasional window dressing rather than a significant part of the proceedings, and we can’t accept Osage as some kind of godforsaken place unless we see more of it. John Wells, a perfectly competent television director (ER and The West Wing), doesn’t dazzle anyone with technique here. The film feels small and a bit claustrophobic at times and could benefit from more texture.

August: Osage County is one of those films that resonates because it punishes. Watching it will leave you in awe of the cast and emotionally drained. It isn’t until after the fact that you will wonder what it all added up to.

7.75/10