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