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