Zac Rates the Universe

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol

2012-01-27T22:23:00.000-05:00

When a terrorist known as “Cobalt” schemes to start a nuclear war, veteran IMF agent Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) is sprung from a Russian prison to stop him. A trip to the Kremlin to unearth Cobalt’s identity goes disastrously wrong, and Ethan’s team is framed for a terrorist attack and disavowed. Now, it is up to him, agent Jane Carter (Paula Patton), technician Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg) and mysterious analyst William Brandt (Jeremy Renner) to stop Cobalt (Michael Nyqvist) before it is too late.

If there is one defining feature to the Mission: Impossible films, it is that you get something different every time. All four films have had different directors, and each one has left a different imprint on the series. This one is helmed by Incredibles director Brad Bird (in his live-action debut), and he takes a back-to-basics approach. Because Ethan’s team is cut off from funding/support, you won’t see nearly as much technological wizardry and heavy firepower as previous films, though a fair amount of gadgetry is still on display. Pair this with some breathtaking visuals – we are treated to a bird’s eye view of the 2,700-ft tall Burj Khalifa tower – and a few clever nods to the original TV series, and Bird acquits himself quite well behind the camera.

Alas, not everything in the film works quite as well as the car chases and fisticuffs. The plot is a throwback in the worst way, simplistic and clichéd (nuclear war with Russia? Really? What decade is this?), Nyqvist’s Cobalt makes for a bland, dull villain (particularly compared to Philip Seymour Hoffman’s turn in the previous film), and Renner, ever the maverick, feels miscast as the reluctant, hyper-logical Brandt.

On the plus side, Patton plays a convincing second-in-command and imbues her character with vindictive edge. Pegg, as always, can be counted on for well-timed comic relief. And say what you want about Cruise as a person, but the controversial couch-jumper owns this role. Watch him run, jump, fight, drive, climb, adopt accents and disguises, and do all the other things that Ethan Hunt is known for, and you’ll instantly forget you’re looking at someone who is only 5’7” and rapidly approaching 50.

All in all, Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol is satisfyingly nostalgic entertainment, but the weak links and the contrived ending prevent it from being one of the best in the series.

7.5/10

Spring Garden Bar & Pizzeria and Fat Dogs Grille & Pub

2012-01-18T20:24:00.000-05:00

vs.

I am always amused/perplexed when I encounter direct competitors situated across the street from one another. You see it with gas stations, with pharmacies, and on Spring Garden Street in Greensboro, you see it with bars. SpringGarden Bar & Pizzeria (2419 Spring Garden St.) and Fat Dogs Grille &Pub (2503 Spring Garden St.) are so close that you can practically double-jump from one parking lot to the next. And while both specialize in different things (pizza and Italian dishes for Spring Garden, hot dogs and wings for Fat Dogs), both offer a similar sandwich/salad/burger-based menu. But for all their superficial similarities, eating at either yields a markedly different experience.

Food

Spring Garden easily puts the lie to the notion that bar food is bad food. Dishes are homemade and utilize fresh ingredients, something that shows in the end result. Fried ravioli came piping hot slathered in a chunky, flavorful tomato sauce, and an herb-infused grilled chicken breast sandwich was juicy and well-seasoned. Even a side salad proved satisfactory. The pizza, which I have yet to try, is supposed to be even better, and my expectations for it are high.

Fat Dogs, on the other hand, disappointed tremendously. A cup of potato bacon soup (they were out of the “always available” chili) was both salty and bland while Cajun chicken tenders were overseasoned, substituting sheer spice for good flavor. In all fairness, I have yet to sample the signature dogs or wings, but my initial visit did little to inspire a return.

Décor and Ambience

Both Spring Garden and Fat Dogs stick to the requisite neighborhood bar accoutrements: glowing beer signs and multiple TVs on the walls. The addition of a large clock, a few well-placed lights, and some old-timey signs gave Spring Garden a touch more character. Fat Dogs offered better music, but the surroundings felt noticeably cheaper and lonelier.

Service

Don’t go into Spring Garden expecting to get food right away. Though wait times were not long, the two servers on duty were definitely kept busy. They were nevertheless still personable, knowledgeable about the menu, and attentive to refilling drinks.

Fat Dogs, on the other hand, offered bar service. I visited on a slow night, and food came out very quickly. The sole bartender seemed friendly enough.

Pricing

Both establishments are reasonably wallet-friendly though Fat Dogs offers a slight edge. Sandwiches with a choice of side run in the $7 to $8 range at Spring Garden and from $4 to $7 at Fat Dogs; burgers occupy a similar range. Both establishments offer discounts among their daily specials. Spring Garden does 1/2 off appetizers on Wednesdays, for example, while Fat Dogs takes $1 off a different category of food depending on the night. Given the number of appetizers that work as light meals, this may very well make up for Spring Garden’s higher base prices.

Overall, both Spring Garden and Fat Dogs offer cheap eats and a casual atmosphere. If you are looking to grab a quick bite to eat with friends or to watch a game, either one will do. But if you are going primarily for the food, Spring Garden alone is worth your while.

Spring Garden Bar & Pizzeria: 8/10

Fat Dogs Grille & Pub: 6.25/10

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

2011-12-29T16:50:00.000-05:00

At the end of the 19^th century, a series of bombings puts France and Germany on the brink of war. Though the blame falls on anarchists, madly brilliant English detective Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) believes Professor James Moriarty (Jared Harris) is behind it all. Unfortunately, the meticulous Moriarty leaves no damning evidence, and so it is up to Holmes to uncover and foil his plot. He is assisted by his even more eccentric brother, Mycroft (Stephen Fry), a Gypsy fortuneteller caught in the crossfire (Noomi Rapace), and, reluctantly, his newly-married partner, Dr. John Watson (Jude Law).

Set after 2009’s Sherlock Holmes, Guy Ritchie’s follow-up keeps its predecessor’s suspense and humor but jettisons the complexity of the plot. Whether that is a net gain or a net loss will depend on your expectations. Personally, I found that while the 2009 outing aimed too high, A Game of Shadows aims too low. Moriarty’s machinations are fairly transparent, and the bits of mystery regarding the identity of the assassin feel shoehorned in.

Fortunately, plotting issues do not detract from the film’s brisk pace and overall sense of fun. There are assassins at seemingly every turn, and Holmes’ calculating martial arts mastery is utilized again to good effect. On the other hand, the use of new-for-the-time weaponry such as machine pistols and Ritchie’s affinity for Max Payne-style bullet time sequences do not sync well with the film’s otherwise Victorian character.

Downey again anchors this film, portraying Holmes as a highly talented madman. He nails both the accent and the idiosyncrasies and performs with gusto. Law’s Watson is decidedly less stiff this time around, though he’s still very much the yin (marksmanship, medical skills, reason) to Holmes’ yang (deductive ability, esoteric knowledge, insanity). Of the new additions to the cast, Fry fares best here. His Mycroft is essentially an older Sherlock turned up to 11, a dry-witted loon who somehow commands the respect of the English government. Harris gives Moriarty a ruthless edge, but one cannot help but feel that he is wrong for the part. Anthony Hopkins or even the rumored Brad Pitt would have been a more interesting choice. And while Rapace gets to do plenty of running around, her dialogue, screen time, and overall contributions are minimal for such a supposedly important character. The erstwhile Lisbeth Salander deserves a better showcase for abilities.

A Game of Shadows draws heavily from Arthur Conan Doyle’s "The Final Problem" and incorporates some breathtaking shots of Switzerland’s iconic Reichenbach Falls. While that might make the ending seem like a forgone conclusion, viewers will do well to remember that in the world of Sherlock Holmes, nothing is as it seems.

8/10

The Walkaway

2011-12-23T21:30:00.000-05:00

In December 1979, retired Wichita police officer Gunther Fahnstiel accidently backs over a stranger with an RV. He finds a large cache of money alongside the body and decides to stow it away for safe keeping. Ten years later, 77-year-old Gunther breaks out of his nursing home in an effort to find his hidden money. He is pursued by his wife, his ex-bouncer stepson, a former police colleague, and a greedy, philandering real estate developer. As Gunther scans his memory to remember the hiding place, an incident from his police days in the early 1950s threatens to derail him.

Scott Phillips’ 2003 follow-up to The Ice Harvest retains much of the former’s dark humor and imbues it with a sense of the past. On the surface, the tonal shifts are hard to detect. After all, The Walkway, like its predecessor offers an unlikely protagonist to get behind (a senile ex-cop instead of a scheming drunk lawyer), gleefully bathes itself in sleaze (a prostitution ring here instead of a strip club), and tempers its James M. Cain like noir sensibilities with some good old fashioned Midwestern idiocy. However, whereas The Ice Harvest’s Charlie Arglist seems to live very much for the moment, Gunther is clearly a man with some demons.

In this sense, Gunther has quite a bit in common with the book’s antagonist, crooked 1950s G.I. Wayne Ogden. Just as Gunther is willing to do whatever it takes to recover his lost loot (and, one can assume, his dignity), Ogden is hell-bent on getting revenge on his estranged wife, even going as far as to slip back into town using the name of his commanding officer. That the two cause untold pain and suffering to those around them despite their seemingly opposite alignment reinforces one of the untold rules of noir: there are no heroes.

While The Walkaway has a lot going for it, its structure is a mess. Time movements (between 1952 and 1979) are frequent and follow no fixed pattern. There are also no fewer than half a dozen focal characters (on top of plenty of supporting players – the names pile up), and sometimes, the perspective will shift within a chapter. This disorientation makes sense from Gunther’s point of view (he is battling senility, after all), but for a reader, it’s pure frustration.

Phillips also has a penchant for downer endings. While this too can be taken as a hallmark of the noir genre, the sense of futility in those final pages can really make you feel cheated. Then again, if The Ice Harvest didn’t end this way, The Walkaway would probably have no reason for being (and would, at the very least, have a different title).

All told, Phillips tells an interesting tale, but his work is still too slight and, in terms of structure, too sloppy to leave us craving more.

7.25/10

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

2011-12-23T20:57:00.000-05:00

Disgraced investigative journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) is hired by aging Swedish industrial magnate Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) to discover which of his despicable relatives murdered his beloved niece Harriet 40 years ago. As Blomkvist’s investigation uncovers links to ritual murders, he is joined by Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), an expert computer hacker with a dark and troubled past.

For years, the words “American remake” were harbingers of a butchered adaptation of a foreign-language favorite. But as The Departed, Let Me In, and Insomnia have proven, Yankeefied versions of well-received films needn’t be substandard. The 2011 version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo certainly belongs in this grouping as well as both the cast, production values, and, above all, the director, make it worthy of, if not better than, both the original film and the source material.

In this case, the source material happens to be a wildly popular novel (reviewed here), the first in the late Steig Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy. For the 2009 film adaptation, director Niels Arden Oplev excised much of the book’s informational clutter and coaxed a dynamite performance out of Noomi Rapace in the titular role. The bar, in other words, was set quite high.

Fortunately, this could not have fallen into the hands of a better-suited director. From Se7en to Zodiac, David Fincher has mastered the thriller like no other, and his expert command of tension is fully on display here. Though there isn’t much action per say until the film’s last hour, the sense of menace grows and grows as Blomkvist and Salander burrow closer to the truth. And knowing exactly how things will play out plotwise does nothing to dissipate it.

Fincher is aided in his delivery by some breathtaking visuals. Snow-covered northern Sweden is frigid and pristine, a perfect thematic foil for the sordid doings of its inhabitants. These sights are paired with some edgy sounds courtesy of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. Their version of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” blares over the opening credits, and while it is likely to enrage Zeppelin purists, it is a good fit for the film’s dark sensibilities.

From a casting standpoint, the remake’s biggest hurdle was measuring up to Rapace’s strong performance. Several big names auditioned for Salander, but the role ultimately fell to the decidedly un-Swedish Mara, last seen as the indirect impetus for the creation of Facebook in Fincher’s The Social Network. But Mara, nearly unrecognizable here, thoroughly owns this role. It’s more than just the jet black hair, the surprisingly convincing accent, the pseudo-Goth attire; it’s the way she embodies Salander’s silent fury. Though not her equal, the usually arrogant Craig adapts well to playing a more reserved character, and Plummer makes the most of a rare sympathetic turn (though one has to wonder if Max Von Sydow was simply unavailable).

All of the ingredients of a great film are here, and yet The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo disappoints in one key regard. As original director Oplev put it, "Why would they remake something when they can just go see the original?" For as faithful an adaptation as the film is, a strong sense of purpose is missing here. That, the sheer brutality depicted onscreen (feminists and animal lovers will probably want to stay away), and the slackening of tension once the central mystery are resolved nibble at the film’s credibility, but they aren’t big enough bites to derail this Scandinavian-accented thrill ride.

8.25

Moneyball

2011-10-09T22:19:00.000-04:00

After the Oakland As are knocked out of the 2001 playoffs and lose key players through free agency, general manager Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) decides a new way of thinking is in order. To that end, he hires Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), a Yale-educated stats geek, and the two of them go about reshaping the roster. In doing so, they butt heads with old-school baseball men like manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman), but as the season progresses, their radical thinking catches on.

Produced by Pitt, directed by Bennett Miller, and scripted by Aaron Sorkin from Michael Lewis’ influential book, Moneyball comes to the plate with an impressive pedigree. Still, it faces a sizeable limitation from the get-go: how do you make the story of a team that never won anything into a compelling cinematic narrative?

The answer is zeitgeist. Moneyball is set at a point in time where baseball’s biggest worry was not steroid abuse but financial disparities and contraction fears. In that context, the struggle of the As to stay afloat takes on new importance, and the stakes are raised. It is no longer just a baseball movie, but a fight-the-system resistance piece.

It also helps that Pitt comes out swinging as Beane. To be certain, some of his “maverick” moments seem manufactured, but Beane’s personal demons – choosing professional baseball over college, never succeeding as a player, struggling to be an adequate father – are fully realized. As for the rest of the lineup, Hill gets some funny lines as Brand (loosely based on the less nerdy Paul DePodesta), young Kerris Dorsey shows some musical ability as Beane’s admiring daughter, and Hoffman is solid if somewhat bland in a largely thankless, vaguely antagonistic role as Howe (a successful manager not cut out for 21^st century baseball).

Compared to the book (and, presumably, reality), the film version of Moneyball takes a lot of liberties and cuts a lot of corners. No mention is made on-screen of the As then-emerging rotation (Tim Hudson, Barry Zito, and Mark Mulder), for instance. In terms of making the book filmable, however, the alterations are probably for the best.

Ultimately, Moneyball’s biggest weakness is the pesky intrusion of real life events. The film ends after the 2002 season with Beane turning down an offer from the Red Sox in order to remain in Oakland. Knowing that the As still haven’t made it to (let alone won) a World Series in the past 20 years, that Beane’s worship of on base percentage has not produced a particularly dynamic offense (to say the least), and that DePodesta flopped as general manager of the Dodgers goes against a lot of what this film stands for. And while such knowledge can’t be simply cast aside, it shouldn’t be enough to completely mar what is otherwise a quirky, compelling tale that transcends the ballpark.

8/10

The Debt

2011-10-09T21:33:00.000-04:00

In 1997, Israeli author Sarah Gold (Romi Aboulafia), the daughter of now-handicapped intelligence chief Stefan Gold (Tom Wilkinson) and former Mossad agent Rachel Singer (Helen Mirren), recounts her parents’ successful capture and killing of Nazi war criminal Dieter Vogel (Jesper Christensen) in 1960s East Berlin. David Peretz (Cirian Hinds), the third member of that Mossad team, commits suicide shortly thereafter, prompting Rachel and Stefan to revisit what really happened 30 years earlier and atone for a crucial mistake of the past.

Directed by John Madden, The Debt has a ripped-from-the-history-books premise, but it is actually a remake of an earlier Israeli film of the same name. Not having seen the original made this remake infinitely more enjoyable. The plot takes a major twist about 2/3rds of the way through, and the tension, as young Stefan (Marton Csonkas), Rachel (Jessica Chastain), and David (Sam Worthington) develop a love triangle, evade capture, and withstand Vogel’s psychological manipulation, is wonderfully thick.

While it would not be feasible to maintain the entirety of this tension throughout, the parts which are slack stand out considerably. So much weight is placed on the 1960s scenes that by the time the story shifts back to the present, you forget you are watching the same movie. The conclusion, while necessary to resolve the plot, also strained credulity in its execution.

Unevenness aside, the acting here is top-notch. Christensen is cagey and slyly monstrous as the ex-Nazi doctor, and both the past and present versions of the three agents are well-rendered. Notably, Wilkinson adds complexity to an increasingly unsympathetic role and Worthington gives a subdued performance as the sensitive David. Make no mistake about it, though: Mirren owns this film. From the accent to the emotional baggage to the age-appropriate hesitations and concerns to the ultimate triumph of will in the conclusion, she imbues the older Rachel with strength, integrity, and conviction.

The Debt probably won’t generate any Oscar buzz, but its artful presentation and powerful message of responsibility mean that it should not be ignored.

7.75/10

Columbine

2011-08-13T16:55:00.000-04:00

In this 432 page exploration of the Columbine High School massacre, journalist Dave Cullen examines the tragedy from multiple angles. The book includes profiles of perpetrators Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, an examination of life at Columbine before and after the attack, the perspectives of victims and their parents, and a debunking of several of the myths perpetuated by the media and law enforcement.

I was wrong. So were you. And so, it would seem, was everyone else. That’s the central premise behind Cullen’s Columbine. Released almost exactly a decade after the notorious attack, the book shines ample light on the killers’ motivations. Some of its revelations are old hat: the erroneous assumptions that video games/Marilyn Manson made them do it or that Harris and Klebold acted on behalf of the “Trench Coat Maffia” were debunked long ago. But the counter narrative – that the pair were outcasts driven to extremes by bullying – doesn’t hold up either. Using expert profiles and the killers’ own words (they kept journals and recorded videos well in advance of the attack), Cullen reveals Harris to be a psychopathic master manipulator and Klebold his depressive sidekick. If the two looked like outcasts, it was an image they cultivated for themselves. In other words, they weren’t “pushed” by anything, be it video games, music, jocks, parents, gun culture, or who knows what else.

But Cullen’s revelations don’t end there. In his chilling recreation of the events of April 20, 1999, he shows how much worse things could have been. Fun Fact 1: the then-worst school shooting in American history was conceived as a school bombing. Harris and Klebold resorted to opening fire after their propane bombs didn’t go off. Fun Fact 2: the shooting itself was over in a relatively short period of time, but it took law enforcement (who, Cullen notes, took great pains to cover their asses in the aftermath) several hours to enter/secure the school and get everyone out. During that time, a teacher bled to death in a classroom. And then there’s Cassie Bernall, the alleged Christian martyr who was not, in fact, killed for expressing a belief in God, not that this would stop her parents and the evangelical community from milking the martyr angle for all it was worth.

Supported by years of research and ample sources, Cullen left virtually no stones unturned in writing Columbine, and it deserves its status as the definitive account of the massacre. But it is not a flawless effort. While the first section of the book is gripping and tense, the remainder is considerably less so. Cullen’s use of a parallel structure (alternating Harris and Klebold’s lives leading up to the attack with the lives of the survivors in the aftermath) feels contrived and threatens to dilute reader interest. He also shows a certain smugness in sticking it to the media (of which, his introductory note explains, he was a member) and especially the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office (justifiable given their conduct, but you have to wonder if this isn’t some form of payback for being denied access). Lastly, Cullen freely engages in conjecture, delving inside the heads of his killers and recreating key moments. It’s conjecture guided by research, but it’s walking on a tree branch just the same.

These faults will keep Columbine from reaching In Cold Blood status, but it’s still a must read. It may shock you, and it may make you mad, but it will also fill in some holes that ten years worth of movies, books, articles, and endless speculation have failed to adequately address.

Josephine's Bistro

2011-08-11T19:33:00.000-04:00

Located at 2417 Spring Garden Street, Josephine’sBistro specializes in upscale cuisine. It is open for lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday and offers $11 dinner entrees before 6 p.m. Monday through Thursday. Specials rotate daily and include free wine tastings on Thursdays and periodic wine dinners. Josephine’s caters and is available to host private events.

The sister restaurant of Lindley Park Filling Station, Josephine’s is a relative newcomer, but it is already leaving an impression on Greensboro’s dining scene. Months after friends gave it a favorable recommendation, I finally had an occasion worth celebrating and gave it a try. Upon arrival, I was greeted by the owner, Sara Keith, who apologetically explained that they were in the process of putting in a new roof. The renovations didn’t harm the aesthetics much, but the aesthetics weren’t a strong point to begin with. In contrast to the quaint patio, the inside is rather compact and adorned with muted tones. Josephine’s is also fond of unconventional dishware: my entrée came on a rectangular, trough-like plate, and bread was dispensed in small metal buckets.

These odd visual touches are hit-or-miss, but the menu is considerably less ambiguous in its quality. I showed up in time for the pre-6p.m. early bird special, which left me three choices: a gourmet burger, sautéed trout, or flounder and a black bean cake. Choosing between those three was tough enough, but throw in the rest of the menu (steak au poivre, pork Milanese, buttermilk sage fried chicken, and more), and the decision became torturous.

Ultimately, I went with the burger. A beef-lamb blend, it came topped with creamy Boursin cheese, greens, tomato, and bacon, and served with pomme frites and a garlic parm aioli. Both the burger and the veggies were juicy, and the soft, somewhat tangy cheese added a nice contrasting flavor. The aioli also made for the perfect dipping sauce. Gourmet burgers are often a cynical way to gouge diners with unsophisticated palates, but this one was an exception. Everything was so flavorful that I had trouble remembering I was eating a burger and fries, let alone what I was paying for it. I then followed that up with a white chocolate Frangelico cheesecake, a dessert so rich it deserves an entry on the Forbes 500.

As has been said on this blog and elsewhere, good food does not come cheaply. Appetizers run from $6 to $14, and entrees are $14 and up. Josephine’s does offer both small and large plate options for many of its entrees, so it is possible to have a meal here without breaking the bank.

Servers at Josephine’s are both friendly and attentive. Conveniently, they leave you with a carafe of water instead of circling to refill your glass. The food didn’t emerge from the kitchen quickly, but the wait was not unreasonable.

All in all, Josephine’s might not offer the ambience of Print Works or the bonafides of the other Quaintance joints, but on food and friendliness, it should definitely stay in the conversation as a special occasion dinner destination.

8.5

The Collector

2011-08-07T21:01:00.000-04:00

In postwar England, Frederick Clegg, an unassuming, socially awkward clerk becomes obsessed with Miranda Grey, a beautiful young art student. He is too shy to approach her and instead watches her from afar and collects butterflies. Once Clegg wins a large sum of money betting on soccer, however, he decides to purchase a large country estate and kidnap Miranda under the belief that she will love him once she gets to know him. Nothing goes as planned for either captor or captive.

An unfortunate favorite of several notorious serial killers, John Fowles 1963 debut novel deserves to be something more than notorious. To start with, there are some interesting – if somewhat superficial – commonalities between The Collector and Nabokov’s Lolita. Both feature as their (quite unreliable) narrators deranged men who are obsessed with young women. But unlike the latter, the former gives a voice to its victim. Half of the book takes the form of Miranda’s diary, in which she pines for freedom, shares her disgust (and occasional pity) for Clegg, gushes over a fellow artist twice her age, and shares her contempt for everything bourgeoisie and inauthentic. Interestingly, she comes across as every bit as unsympathetic as Clegg: she’s vain, condescending, (perhaps justifiably) cruel, and hypocritical.

Despite the bulk of the interaction taking place between just two characters, Fowles intended this novel to be social commentary, a critique of prosperity. The working class (as represented by Clegg), he argued, was getting money and power before it knew how to utilize either responsibly. Even if you find this view a tad insulting – and I do – there is something amusing about the juxtaposition of Clegg’s (old fashioned, uncultured, and isolated) aesthetic and moral opinions with Miranda’s (a sharp-minded proto-hippie of sorts).

Whether it’s the association with serial killers, the chilling downer ending (an asset, in my view), the by-now familiar plot, or just its datedness, The Collector is easy to write off as damaged goods. But it shouldn’t be. Watching these two characters find new ways to drive each other crazy makes this book well worth the read.

Wild Strawberries

2011-08-07T20:31:00.000-04:00

Isak Borg (Victor Sjostrom), a widowed, retired professor/physician, sets out on a long car trip with his indifferent daughter-in-law Marianne (Ingrid Thulin) to receive a prestigious honor. Along the way, they pick up a bubbly young woman, Sara, (Bibi Anderson) and her competing beaus. Through a series of daydreams, Isak confronts the regrets of his past.

With a meandering pace and a threadbare plot, Wild Strawberries could have easily been a pretentious bore. That it instead proved to be an engaging, thought-provoking reflection on disappointment is a testament to its writer/director, the legendary Ingmar Bergman (who reportedly penned the script while in the hospital). Make no mistake about it: there is no shortage of melancholy here. Isak comes to the realization that his coldness has condemned him to a life of lonliness while Marianne is on the verge of leaving his similarly frosty son Evald because the latter cannot stomach the idea of bringing a child into this world. But Bergman also incorporates moments of humor (Isak and his housekeeper bickering like a married couple, Sara’s two suitors ignoring her and fighting over religious philosophy) and surrealism (Isak’s first dream is like something out of a Tool video). Throw in some handsome shots of the Swedish countryside and a minimalistic but powerful score and you have as well-made a film was possible for 1957.

Of course, Bergman isn’t the only thing that makes Wild Strawberries work. Sjostrom, who was a.) primarily a silent film director, b.) in his late 70s, and c.) reluctant to take the role does a phenomenal job essaying Isak. We get to see him as outwardly esteemed, principled, and composed but also uncaring, tormented, and full of regret. It’s the type of role Jack Nicholson would have thrived in had this movie been made from 2002-2006.

If there’s one flaw to Wild Strawberries, it’s that the relatively happy ending seems unearned. There is nothing wrong with the notion that people can and do change, even in old age, but there is something almost Christmas Carolesque in Isak’s realizations. It may be a cliché, but it would have been more fitting – and more moving – if this closed with his passing.

It would seem a stretch that a fifty-plus year old slow-paced Swedish film could resonate with modern viewership, but given the ascendency of character-driven thinkpieces during the past decade, Wild Strawberries should continue to shine.

8.25

Captain America: The First Avenger

2011-07-25T13:40:00.000-04:00

In the early 1940s, scientifically enhanced megalomaniacal rogue Nazi Johann Schmidt aka “The Red Skull” (Hugo Weaving) seizes an ancient Norse artifact that will fuel his plans of global conquest. Meanwhile, Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, is determined to join the Army and fight for his country, despite being physically unfit for duty. Enter Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci), a German defector who is looking for someone to test his “Super Soldier” serum on. The rest, as they say, is history.

It’s hard to believe, but in the 70 years since Captain America made his debut as a comic book character, he is only now getting his cinematic due. The First Avenger easily trounces the obscure late-70s made-for-TV adaptations and the lamentable 1990 release starring Matt “son of J.D.” Salinger in both budget and hype. For the most part, this latest addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe does not disappoint.

A lot of credit should be given to director Joe Johnston. Though a questionable choice to helm the film – his résumé includes Jurassic Park III and Jumanji – Johnston delivers a competently made throwback of an adventure film. There is a solid period feel, no major lags in the pacing, and while some of the HYDRA weaponry channels G.I. Joe in a bad way, the CGI is relatively unobtrusive (especially compared to the likes of Thor). Then again, maybe this should not be much of a surprise: Johnston also worked on the Indiana Jones films and the thematically similar Rocketeer.

The acting doesn’t offer anything transcendental ala The Dark Knight’s Heath Ledger or even Iron Man 2’s Mickey Rourke, but it is solid across the board. Hugo Weaving gives the nefarious Red Skull a convincing German accent and a formidable sense of menace. Captain America, that paragon of patriotism, is bound to end up looking wooden no matter what, but Evans does his best in the lead, admirably conveying the determination that makes the character tick. Tommy Lee Jones and Dominic Cooper seem to be having fun as the gruff Col. Chester Phillips and the eccentric Howard Stark (father of Tony), respectively, but the roles are fairly one-dimensional. Sadly, so is that of Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell), a British officer who acts as a liaison to the Americans. Atwell gives the character some spunk, but everything about her screams “token love interest.”

While it is fashionable for comic book adaptations to take on postmodern twists these days, blurring the lines between hero and villain and offering incisive commentary on the societies that create them, The First Avenger lacks any such ambition. It is a very traditional film dedicated to showcasing the struggle between good and evil and affirming the notion that one person can make a difference. If you are expecting anything more than that, you will be disappointed. But if you accept it on those terms (or are just looking for the final piece of the puzzle before The Avengers debuts next year), there is a lot to like here.

7.75

X-Men: First Class

2011-06-08T23:13:00.000-04:00

Directed by Matthew Vaughn, X-Men: First Class explores the origins of the popular superhero team. In the early 1960s, Holocaust survivor and metal-bending mutant Erik “Magneto” Lensherr (Michael Fassbender) hunts down Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon), a nefarious mutant supremacist who killed his mother during the war. Shaw’s involvement in the clandestine Hellfire Club brings him to the attention of CIA operative Moira McTaggart (Rose Byrne), who reaches out to mutation expert (and telepath) Professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) for help. Once Shaw’s plans for political maneuvering and global domination become clear, Erik and Charles team up and begin recruiting mutants to combat him. Their differing views on human-mutant relations, however, suggest the alliance won’t last for long.

From recent Christopher Nolan Batman series to the forthcoming The Amazing Spiderman and Man of Steel, reboots seem to be all the rage these days. In the case of the X-Men franchise, there is considerable merit. X-Men: The Last Stand, with its shoddy characterization and simplistic plotting, left a bad taste in the mouths of many filmgoers, and X-Men Origins: Wolverine, though fun, did little to remedy that.

For comic book purists, X-Men: First Class is more of the same. When compared to the source material, considerable liberties are taken with both character and setting: shape-shifting seductress Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence) is turned into Xavier’s adopted little sister, and the initial X-Men lineup presented here leaves out Cyclops and Angel in favor of Havoc and Banshee. Some of the changes are unsettling: Hank “Beast” McCoy’s (Nicholas Hoult) admittedly formidable intelligence is stretched to absurd proportions for his age, and the transformation of McTaggart from scientist to spy felt a little too plot-convenient.

That aside, most of the changes work. Having blue-skinned Mystique feel Xavier’s rejection, for instance, sets up her enthusiasm for Magneto’s pro-mutant extremism in later times. Similarly, the debates between Xavier, who believes humans and mutants can exist in harmony, and Magneto, who believes that mutants will never be accepted, sets up the conflict at the crux of the first three X-Men films.

The biggest asset here, however, is not Vaughn’s innovations, but the general competence and sense of purpose he brings to the film. While the pace is brisk and there is plenty of action, you never feel like you are watching a glorified cartoon. Echoes of the Holocaust and the Civil Rights struggle, combined with a Cold War setting and plot, give this a mature, weighty feel.

The acting is also top-notch. Fassbender, as Erik/Magneto, is less a man with an agenda than a force to be reckoned with. He pulls of a coup by outdoing his predecessor in the role, the esteemed Ian McKellen. McAvoy as Xavier isn’t quite as strong in comparison, but his somewhat carnal and vain take on the character forms an interesting contrast with Patrick Stewart’s saintly interpretation. The underrated Bacon is both smarmy and menacing as Shaw, and Hugh Jackman, in his brief Wolverine cameo, nearly steals the film.

X-Men: First Class is an overly ambitious work that strikes a false note at times. But it injects the franchise as a whole with some much-needed credibility and vision and opens the door for all kinds of future possibilities.

8.25

Rosie's Cafe

2011-06-08T22:25:00.000-04:00

Located at 2412 A S. Elm-Eugene St., Rosie’s Café offers home cooked Southern cuisine for dine-in or carry out. It is open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and meal combos and daily specials are available.

Housed in a converted gas station, Rosie’s goes to prove that the Lindley Park neighborhood doesn’t hold a monopoly on repurposed businesses. However, all similarities between Rosie’s and the Filling Station end there. Rosie’s does not offer anything to entice a young crowd or any crowd for that matter. The interior is barebones and tiny: there are maybe half a dozen stools along two counters, and that does it for seating. You will also be eating on Styrofoam and plastic, and you won’t have a television to watch, music to listen to, or anything else in the way of ambiance.

Once you get past the fact that Rosie’s is “dine-in” in name only, you’ll find that the food is equal parts tasty and cheap. The extensive breakfast menu is heavy on meat (steak, pork chops, country ham, etc.) and egg combos, and you can feed yourself well for under $5. The lunch/dinner menu is a bit more limited. They are big on burgers and ($1!) hot dogs here, but you can also get something more filling. I opted for a pork chop, potato salad, and slaw, and I was not disappointed. The chop was nicely breaded and not the least bit dry, and the sides are what you’d expect from a Southern kitchen. The best part? That and a drink cost me under $9.

Rosie’s is not a viable option if you want to take in a nice meal, but if you are just looking for cheap eats or something to go, you’d be hard-pressed to find better food at these prices.

7.75

Moonlight Mile

2011-05-16T15:05:00.000-04:00

Twelve years have passed since private investigators Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro located and returned the abducted Amanda McCready. Since that time, Patrick and Angie have gotten married and have a child of their own. Now 16, Amanda has gone missing again, and it is up to the pair to find her. This time, however, there is more at stake than Amanda’s own life.

Picking up where 1998’s Gone, Baby, Gone and Prayers for Rain left off, Dennis Lehane returns to his long-running detective series after forays into historical fiction (The Given Day) and television writing (The Wire). As a stylist, he hasn’t lost a beat. Patrick remains an engaging narrator: as tough and cynical as his job requires him to be, but also full of smartassery, pop culture quips, moral wrangling, and, above all, compassion. His back-and-forth banter and relationship-threatening arguments with Angie are back too, but the former Miss Gennaro feels shoved into the background in this latest outing. It’s a shame to see such a strong character demoted from partner-in-crime to wife/mom who is just along for the ride.

Characterization, on the whole, is something Lehane (surprisingly) botches here. There will always be bright spots (namely, the return of incorrigible psychopath/loyal best friend Bubba Rogowski, who tells a henchman, “I’ll kill you because you’re short.”), but the layers of humanity and despair that previously marked Lehane’s characters are missing here. Far too much is played for laughs. The book’s crazed Russian mobster antagonists are stock, seemingly coming to us straight from the set of Running Scared. And Amanda’s selfish, neglectful mother Helene, a rightfully reviled character in Gone, Baby, Gone, comes off more like a drug-addled clown here. Then there’s Amanda herself. Lehane continually reminds us of how she is mature and intelligent beyond her years, which makes her seem capable of anything and drains the book of tension and suspense.

That isn’t to say that there is nothing at Moonlight Mile’s core. The book traffics in themes of maturity and the perils of aging. Patrick and Angie are in their early 40s now. They must accept the fact that they can no longer put their lives in danger for crusades on behalf of their clients. They must also come to terms with the fact that the rough-and-tumble, blue collar Boston that bred them is almost unrecognizable now. It is watching them adapt to their respective challenges (Patrick working a corporate job, Angie doing the stay-at-home mom thing) that holds this book up when the plot crumbles.

In spite of the finality suggested by the conclusion, it is difficult to say whether or not Moonlight Mile will in fact be Patrick and Angie’s last hurrah. If this is the end, then it comes as a bit of a disappointment (Gone, Baby, Gone, A Drink Before the War, and Darkness, Take My Hand were all far superior). Nevertheless, it is a book that Lehane had to write: a weak send-off is far more preferable than keeping these characters on the shelf for another dozen years and pretending that it is still the mid-to-late ‘90s.

7.5/10

Vietnamese Garden Cuisine

2011-05-16T15:02:00.003-04:00

Located at 2505 Battleground Ave., Vietnamese Garden offers Vietnamese dishes, sushi, and desserts. Lunch specials are available from 11-2:30 Monday to Friday, and the restaurant is open all day on Saturdays.

Vietnamese Garden is Vietnamese food for Americans who can’t handle the real thing. Whereas the more authentic establishments tend to put a lot of emphasis on the food, Vietnamese Garden plays up appearances. The décor is handsome and tasteful: dark mustard colored walls, bamboo accents, and plenty of artwork. Don’t go here expecting a quiet meal, though: the restaurant’s popularity among families and the business crowd means you’re in for a boisterous dining experience. It also means you could be in for some wait time, both before and after you get your table.

Of course, the wait and the noise would be abundantly more tolerable if the food raised its game. I tried the combination (pork, shrimp, and spring roll) vermicelli bowl on two occasions. It was decent the first time around, but the pork was overcooked on the second occasion. It’s also telling that the menu offers an extremely limited selection of pho, the noodle soup that has become synonymous with Vietnamese cuisine.

On the other hand, that very same menu can’t help but curry (pun intended) the favor of diners seeking a break from the usual. Braised quail, crab fried rice, and stuffed calamari rolls give me hope that I’ve simply been ordering the wrong thing. The dessert selection is also impressive and showcases French influences. Mousses and ganaches abound.

For those new to Vietnamese cuisine, Vietnamese Garden is probably a good way to gain an introduction without overwhelming your palette. But if you know what a proper pho or mixed bowl is supposed to look/taste like, better options exist. Only the breadth of the menu encourages a repeat visit.

6.75/10

Thor

2011-05-16T15:00:00.000-04:00

Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is a proud, headstrong warrior and heir to the throne of Asgard. When he angers his father Odin (Anthony Hopkins) by breaking a centuries-old truce with the malevolent Frost Giants, he is stripped of his power and exiled to Earth where Asgardians are regarded as mythological figures. He is befriended by rogue astrophysicist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) and her colleagues, who believe him to hold the answers to all sorts of scientific mysteries. Meanwhile, in Thor’s absence, his scheming, manipulative brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) launches an ambitious plan to improve his standing in Odin’s eyes.

Even in the post-Dark Knight era, comic book adaptations are still not universally embraced. But Thor is no ordinary comic book adaptation. The character was a product of Norse mythology long before he hit Marvel’s pages. Further, the film’s director (Kenneth Branagh) is noted for his adaptations of Shakespeare. That and the A-list cast give Thor unprecedented (for its type) dramatic heft. And, sadly, it is on that level (dramatic craftsmanship rather than mere entertainment) that Thor disappoints most egregiously.

Aesthetics are the biggest offender. Asgard is presented as an awkward array of golden spires in the sky, and the inter-realm transport sequences across the Bifrost Bridge look like something out of Power Rangers. Granted, the source material doesn’t lend itself to ultra-realism, but there is no reason it need be so cartoonish.

Then there’s the script. Though it does tackle the worthwhile theme of maturity and sacrifice, it is peppered with melodrama and cheese sentimentality. Thor’s relationship with Foster, for instance, seems a little too conveniently manufactured to be believed. Come to think of it, the Foster character in general felt misplaced. For as talented as Portman is (and for as well as she can project genius-level smarts), she is still too damn young to convincingly portray an accomplished astrophysicist.

Ironically, in spite of its pedigree, it is as simple fun that Thor finds its footing. Whether he is smashing things with his hammer or dropping amusing fish-out-of-water quips (at one point, he walks into a pet store and demands a horse), Hemsworth fills the title role ably. Ray Stephenson as the gluttonous warrior Volstagg and Kat Dannings as Foster’s airhead assistant also up the fun factor. For comics fans, there’s even a brief cameo by Jeremy Renner as ace marksman (and future Avenger) Hawkeye.

On the whole, though, the cast is slumming it. Hopkins provides screen presence but little else as Odin, and Rene Russo has barely any screen time as his queen, Frigga. It’s not that Thor is a bad film – it entertains admirably, and it is a good introduction to the character – but in an age where X2, The Dark Knight, and Iron Man have raised the bar for what comic book adaptations can achieve, Thor feels far from mighty in comparison.

7.25/10

Bangkok Cafe

2011-04-19T22:35:00.000-04:00

Located at 1203 S. Holden Road, Bangkok Café offers a variety of Thai dishes for dine-in or takeout.

“Hidden gem” is an overused cliché when it comes to dining (and many other things), but it is nearly appropriate here. Bangkok Café is a tiny blip in a Holden Road shopping center that is undoubtedly passed by hundreds of people every day without a second thought. The quality of the food, however, should grant it more attention.

Bangkok Café’s menu is laden with familiar Thai favorites. You can get various curries, tom yum soup, and plenty of rice and noodle dishes here. I went with the Pad Thai my first time out, and I was not disappointed. Bangkok Café gets the delicate balance of flavors down better than anywhere else in Greensboro (so far). Prices are wallet-friendly, too. The Pad Thai (with shrimp) goes for $10, and many of the entrees cost the same or less.

Now for the bad: Bangkok Café is tiny. There are 10 tables in all, meaning that you should time your visit carefully. It is a family owned/run establishment, which means that staffing is minimal. Everyone was very friendly, but dining here demands a casual pace.

The location and small size may put some diners off, but for those who are willing to make the trip, Bangkok Café offers Thai done right.

7.75/10

Atlas Shrugged: Part I

2011-04-19T22:17:00.000-04:00

It’s 2016, and the world faces economic turmoil. Prominent business leaders are disappearing left and right, and Washington insiders are lobbying for new regulations to “fix” the economy. Amid this backdrop, capable, strong-willed railroad executive Dagny Taggart (Taylor Schilling) butts heads with her incompetent, insecure brother James (Matthew Marsden). She is concerned about serving her customers and turning a profit; he wants to project a good company image and gain political influence. Meanwhile, self-made industrialist Hank Reardon (Grant Bowler) supports his ungrateful wife, mother, and brother while working long hours to maximize his gains. His new alloy, Rearden Metal, could be stronger and cheaper than anything on the market, which motivates his competitors to turn the tides of public and official opinion against it. As Dagny and Hank form a partnership, the efforts to hinder their progress redouble. Lurking at the edges of the conflict is a question no one can answer: who is John Galt?

In the 50-plus years since Ayn Rand’s 1,300-page novel was published, there have been numerous attempts to adapt Atlas Shrugged for the big screen. They have all met with failure for one reason or another; namely, a lack of final approval from Rand and her intellectual heirs. Enter businessman John Aglialoro, who bought up the rights and produced a feature-length film in five weeks on a $10 million shortly before his option was about to expire. Considering those circumstances – and the sheer scope of the source material – Atlas Shrugged Part I could have turned out a lot worse. But the avoidance of disaster should not be taken as proof of success.

The film’s biggest asset is its aesthetics. There are frequent shots of trains racing across the Rocky Mountains. These contrast nicely with the stately boardrooms of the Taggart offices and the sleek, cold confines of Rearden’s operation. It’s a great-looking film not just for the budget, but for any budget.

The cast too must be commended. Led by unknowns Schilling and Bowler, they go a long way toward humanizing Rand’s characters without compromising them. The author regarded character as little more than a vessel for transmitting ideas. By not treating their roles as cartoons, the actors and actresses allow those ideas to exist in human terms rather than at a theoretical level. In addition to the two leads, Marsden makes for a loathsome, petty James. Michael Lerner, who plays slick lobbyist Wesley Mouch fittingly bears more than a passing resemblance to Chris Dodd and the late Ted Kennedy as he drops empty platitudes about “the good of the people” while increasing his own power.

The film’s major deficiency is its script. It’s faithful to the novel, and therein lies a major liability. To put it simply, this is an immensely talky film. Despite the grandiose music, there is a train wreck in the beginning, a fire at the end, and nothing but a series of conversations in between. This wouldn’t be a problem if Rand or screenwriter Brian Patrick O’Toole were David Mamet, Aaron Sorkin, or Kevin Smith, but they don’t even come close. The political pronouncements offered by the mysterious figure in black (SPOILER: it’s John Galt) are particularly awkward. Worse, the film stops just as the plot picks up. This would be fine if this were a TV miniseries or even (ala Lord of the Rings) a situation where you knew a sequel was just around the corner, but that isn’t the case here.

To sum up, when all the polarization over the novel and its creator’s politics are stripped away, you are left with a handsome, earnestly acted, turgidly paced film that feels nakedly incomplete. It’s a valiant attempt, but, as even (and, perhaps, especially) meritocratic devotees of Objectivism will realize, results are what matter most.

6.5/10

The World Made Straight

2011-04-19T21:40:00.000-04:00

Travis Shelton, 17, intelligent, put-upon, and headstrong, is trying to make something of himself in rural North Carolina. He runs afoul of the Toomeys, a father-and-son team of ill-tempered marijuana growers, and ends up maimed. However, the tragedy brings him closer to Lori, an overachieving high school classmate, and Leonard Shuler, a disgraced former teacher turned drug dealer. Leonard recognizes Travis’ potential and prepares him to get his GED, but a secret from the past – and interference from the Toomeys – threaten to undermine their progress.

Credit Ron Rash for being able to craft a novel that is simultaneously bleak and hopeful. In many ways, the book is as hard-bitten as mountains and dirt and gravel that comprise its setting. Rash employs his usual landscape poetics, but they aren’t as prominent here as they are in some of his other works. That is because his characters are well-developed enough to command more of the attention. Leonard is the epitome of wasted potential, a drunk who lets the things he values most in life (wife, child, job) slip right through his fingers. His housemate/rescue, Dena, is even more pathetic: an uncontrollable, oft-abused pill-popper who still maintains a glimmer of her former beauty. Both characters nevertheless do just enough to make you care about them and hope they find redemption.

Travis, on the other hand, represents the hope side of the equation. He is fully believable as a protagonist: intelligent, yet ignorant; stubborn, yet continually bossed around by others; competent (when motivated), yet entirely incapable of making it on his own. Watching him try to become a better person while sensing that it is only a matter of time before he screws something up gives the book its tension.

If there is one thing about The World Made Straight that feels less than masterful, it is the inclusion of a Civil War doctor’s journal entries between chapters. The doctor – and the final entries – become quite important to the plot later on, but the early entries are awash in minutiae. Clearly, Rash’s aim is consistency, but these too often read like filler.

All and all, The World Made Straight offers a harrowing look at desperate people living hard lives. It pulls no punches as to the challenges they face, but it also demands with great urgency that they face them.

8.5/10

The King's Speech

2011-03-20T22:12:00.000-04:00

In prewar England, Prince Albert, Duke of York (Colin Firth) is afflicted by a speech impediment that renders him a stuttering mess in front of an audience. As his father, King George V (Michael Gambon), is aging, and his brother, David (Guy Pearce), is too smitten with a scandalous American socialite to exercise his royal duties, Albert is terrified that he may one day end up on the throne. To remedy this, his wife, Elizabeth, Duchess of York (Helena Bonham Carter) seeks the services of Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), a failed Australian actor-turned-speech therapist. Though the temperamental prince clashes frequently with Logue over the latter’s unorthodox methods, progress is made and the two become friends.

As The Queen proved a few short years ago, critics and moviegoers alike can’t resist a good film that pries into the guarded lives of the royal family. In The King’s Speech, the emphasis is on good. Oscar winner Colin Firth handles his difficult role superbly, transforming a future king (the epitome of prestige) into a sympathetic underdog, a competent naval officer thrust unwillingly onto the thrown. He nails not only the stutter, but the frustration, fear, and fatherly benevolence as well. Carter and the chameleon like Rush match him at every turn; as the future Queen Mother, the former is plucky and resolute, and as the quirky, irrepressible Logue, the latter never misses a beat. Pearce (several years younger than Firth and an Australian) feels miscast, but he does his best to make the future King Edward VIII a weak, irresponsible bastard.

Directed by Tom Hooper, The King’s Speech is well-shot, with a convincing period feel. The script comes courtesy of David Seidler, himself a stutterer. Though Logue’s actual notes were incorporated, there is some obvious dramatization and fictionalization at play. It’s highly doubtful, for instance, that the titular speech drew cheering crowds outside the palace, but were this rendered as it happened, it would have made for a very flat conclusion.

Even without the royal intrigue, The King’s Speech makes for a compelling study in overcoming adversity. The fact that being able to address his people allows the king to go toe-to-toe with the notoriously well-spoken Hitler ups the stakes and makes this all the more rewarding.

8.25/10

Emma Key's Flat Top Grill

2011-03-10T21:42:00.000-05:00

Located at 2206 Walker Avenue, Emma Key’s Flat Top Grill offers burgers, sandwiches, salads, milkshakes, and more with a New Orleans twist. Takeout and limited outdoor seating are available.

The intersection of Walker and Elam Avenues in the heart of the Lindley Park neighborhood has become a haven for repurposing. Just as the Lindley Park Filling Station is a former gas station, its across-the-street competitor used to be a barbershop. That gives Emma Key’s some retro charm, but it also makes for very limited seating. Come here during a busy lunch hour and you’ll barely have room to stand, let alone find a seat and eat. That and the meager (though friendly) staff make this a poor choice if you’re famished or in a hurry.

Depending on your cravings though, the food may be worth the wait. The burgers here are among the best in Greensboro. Made fresh and served hot off the grill (so hot you shouldn’t try to pick them up right away), the misshapen patties might not be much to look at, but they are juicy and flavorful. A plethora of toppings (including several kinds of cheese and house-made Tabasco ketchup) lets you have your steak(burger) and eat it too.

Emma Key’s offers no steals, but you’ll still pay less here than you will next door (Sticks n Stones) or across the street (Fishbones or The Filling Station). Burgers with no sides run from $4.50 and up while plain fries are $1.85. At $4.50, shakes are half a buck away from spawning Pulp Fiction jokes.

As barebones burger joints go, Emma Key’s satisfyingly delivers, but the potential for crowding and wait times means would-be patrons should come with a backup plan in mind.

7.25/10

Chemistry and Other Stories

2011-03-05T22:02:00.000-05:00

This 2007 collection features 13 stories, including O. Henry Prize-winner “Speckled Trout” and “Pemberton’s Bride,” which was later expanded into the novel Serena.

Fishing, hunting, faith, working the land – these are among the most stock elements of Southern writing, and it takes a certain virtuosity to make them seem bold and engaging. An established poet, Ron Rash has just that virtuosity and puts it to good use in this collection. In the title story, a boy finds horrors at the bottom of a lake when tries to emulate his father, who took up diving (and religious fervor) to cope with a mental illness. “Blackberries in June” deromanticizes the bedrock values of hard work and family by showing how a young couple’s relatively modest ambitions are crushed by obligation and misfortune.

As a self-professed fan of “gut-punch” fiction, the author’s penchant for uncompromising endings sits well with me. But for those who expect their fiction to offer at least a sliver of light at the end of the tunnel, “Deep Gap” shows how a father and a son are able to reconcile after the former loses everything. Rash’s fiction often ventures into strange territory – a woman encourages her husband to go on a date so he can write an article about the experience, a country woman hires a surveyor so she can accurately fill out her murdered son’s death certificate, etc. – but it never feels inauthentic.

These stories are not for the faint of heart, and some may feel that Rash incorporates a monotonous level of tragedy. But if ever there is a book that does the Appalachians right, this is it.

8.5/10

Waiting For "Superman"

2011-03-05T21:18:00.000-05:00

This 2010 documentary from Davis Guggenheim examines the failures of the American public education system. The lives of several students and their families are explored, and prominent figures in education are interviewed.

The state of our schools is not something that can be fully explored in a two-hour movie, but Waiting For “Superman” serves as an excellent starting point. It pulls no punches, rightly assigning blame to change-resistant, accountability-shy teacher unions and their political surrogates who believe the solution to everything is “more money!” For that, it was savaged. Interestingly enough, Guggenheim is not a free marketer, but a political progressive. He is perhaps best known for the paean to climate change advocacy that was An Inconvenient Truth.

Of course, Waiting For “Superman” still could have been a failure even if it hit all the right philosophical notes. Either a dry-as-dust presentation or a mega-dose of bombast would have alienated the viewer. Thankfully, the even-voiced Guggenheim picked his spots carefully. Standouts include the charismatic Geoffrey Canada, founder of the Harlem Children’s Zone, and Michelle Rhee, the no-nonsense former Washington D.C. schools chief whose courageous push for merit pay for teachers sparked a firestorm of controversy. There is also a look at New York City’s infamous “rubber rooms” (where bad teachers are sent in lieu of being fired) and an emotional closing montage of lotteries that determine placement in successful charter schools. The pacing is inconsistent at times, but the slow moments are never long or numerous enough to make you want to give up.

Because of the weight given to the charters, some have criticized the film as offering them up as an idealized solution. It’s a fair point, but, in the scheme of things, also a minor one. Waiting For “Superman” does not – and should not – attempt to provide all the answers when it comes to education, but it at least asks the right questions. That alone makes it worth watching.

8/10

The Fighter

2011-02-21T22:51:00.001-05:00

In mid-90s Lowell, Massachusetts, down-on-his-luck boxer “Irish” Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg) lives in the perpetual shadow of his older half brother/trainer, drug addled former fighter Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale). With the encouragement of his barmaid girlfriend Charlene (Amy Adams), Micky begins to seek more for himself. But will he be able to go the distance if it means breaking free of his family?

From Raging Bull to Ali to Cinderella Man, the boxing biopic has been done to death. Despite this, director David O. Russell and Wahlberg (who also produced) found some new and interesting things to say. The fact that this was nearly a very different film – Darren Aaronofsky was attached to direct and Brad Pitt would have played Eklund) – adds to the intrigue.

For starters, The Fighter shows a very unglamorous, almost pedestrian side of the boxing world. Though a classic underdog with something to prove, Micky Ward isn’t mobbed up, battling addiction, or making a political statement; he’s a quiet guy trying to regain his confidence. His style isn’t flashy, either. An opportunist in the ring, he stays on defense and takes damage until he can connect with a crippling body blow. To match this, the film doesn’t rely on slow motion, crowd reaction shots, or other standard gimmickry (though there is an obligatory training montage). As a result, everything seems more authentic. We feel bad for Micky when he is huddled against the ropes taking punch after punch, and we feel triumphant when he finally begins to battle back.

The acting in The Fighter is also top-notch. Wahlberg’s performance is understated but credible. He doesn’t play Ward as Rocky or Superman, but as an ordinary blue-collar type looking to catch a break. Bale, on the other hand, continues to show why he is capable of just about anything. His skinny, strung out, overconfident, irrepressibly boisterous Eklund seems over-the-top at first, but an appearance by the real Eklund at the end of the film shows just how well he nailed the mannerisms. That a 37-year-old Briton could convincingly play a 39-year-old Bostonian’s older sibling is a testament to his range.

It is the ladies, however, who nearly steal the film. Adams, known for playing sweet and cheerful types, demolishes typecasting as the tough, brazen, outspoken Charlene (she pulls off a decent accent, too). Not to be outdone, Melissa Leo (a mere 11 years younger than Wahlberg) makes her mark as the family’s overbearing matriarch, Alice Ward. Not since the late Nancy Marchand’s turn as Livia Soprano has a mother appeared this manipulative and domineering.

Filmed in location in Lowell, The Fighter incorporates a number of artifacts from Ward’s life. The actual gym he trained at makes an appearance, as do his actual trainer and Sugar Ray Leonard (both play themselves). The film’s tension and tough-mindedness is occasionally undercut by doses of awkward humor (a Russell specialty), but they increase the entertainment value.

The Fighter isn’t a probing character study ala The Wrestler, a portrait of self-destruction like Raging Bull, a sprawling period piece like Ali or a feel-good story like any other number of films. It begs and borrows from all of them though, and in doing so, manages to stand with the best of them.

8.25/10

Djibouti: A Novel

2011-02-21T22:17:00.000-05:00

Accompanied by her physically imposing assistant Xavier, award-winning documentary filmmaker Dara Barr travels to the African country of Djibouti to shoot a film on the ongoing piracy problem. The pair meet a variety of local players, including eccentric Texas oilman Billy Wynn and his bored model girlfriend Helene, affable Somali pirate Idris and his scheming British-educated Saudi bureaucrat partner Harry, and Jama Raisuli, an American-born Al Qaeda operative intent on evading capture. As the plot thickens, Dara and Xavier go from being mere spectators to holding the keys to saving many lives.

Reading this book produced three successive reactions: Elmore Leonard has lost his touch, Elmore Leonard has lost his mind, and Elmore Leonard has found a new way to stay relevant. There is ample evidence to support all three. Djibouti is an immensely talky book. The first half or so consists of Dara and Xavier at parties and aboard boats, hobnobbing with all sorts of colorful characters. And while dialogue remains one of Leonard’s strengths, you’ll want to tear your hair out waiting for something to happen. Of course, when things do start happening the pace quickens tremendously and Djibouti becomes as exciting as anything Leonard has ever written.

The catalyst for the change is the novel’s expanding focus on Jama Raisuli (nee James Russell). Originally introduced as a rogue among rogues, Raisuli emerges by the end of the novel not only as its primary villain (no easy feat given Harry’s fondness for arms dealing and bounty hunting behind a civilized veneer), but as one of the most nefarious characters in the author’s entire repertoire. Leonard’s bad guys are often ruthless or sleazy, but none seem as committed to self-preservation and as indifferent to human life as the American jihadist. Perhaps this is the author’s way of reminding us that terrorists are not ordinary criminals.

Unfortunately, the rest of the cast isn’t as magnetic. It’s not that Leonard’s characters aren’t interesting; it’s that this is a book full of supporting players and no real lead for the reader to identify with. Despite being at the center of the action, Dara’s characterization is thin. We don’t get nearly enough about what drives her to make her an effective protagonist. Xavier is closer to an actual hero, but he is too frequently shoved out of focus to serve in that capacity, either.

Djibouti is too uneven and too underdeveloped to rate among Leonard’s best, but the exotic setting, memorable ensemble, and latter-half pace and plotting make it a worthy read.

7.5/10

Van Loi Restaurant II

2011-02-20T13:04:00.000-05:00

Located at 3829D High Point Road, Van Loi Restaurant II offers a variety of Vietnamese dishes and Chinese barbecue. The restaurant is open from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. six days a week (it closes on Tuesdays), and takeout is available.

When it comes to Vietnamese dining, Greensboro offers plenty of options. With gentle-sounding music and nicely appointed interiors, establishments like Pho Hien Vuong and Vietnamese Garden offer a pleasant dining experience. But if all you care about is getting the most authentic food, then Van Loi is the way to go. Located in a slightly shady strip mall off Farmington Road, it is unlikely to attract the business lunch crowd – or much of a crowd at all. I went there at 5:30 p.m. on Thursday and was the only customer. The white-and-green interior is Spartan, and at least a half-dozen Heineken-and-pho posters adorn the walls.

What Van Loi lacks in ambience, it makes up for in menu variety. In addition to the standard soups, noodle bowls, and rice dishes, you can get BBQ duck or make your own spring rolls. There are also enough dishes featuring random pig parts (brains, blood, etc.) to give Anthony Bourdain a run for his money.

Eschewing the exotic, I opted for a grilled pork-and-egg roll vermicelli bowl. The meat was suspiciously red, though quite tasty and not undercooked. The incorporation of mint was a nice touch, but on the whole, the dish wasn’t markedly better than it was at any of Van Loi’s more Westernized competitors.

Pricing at Van Loi is higher than the rudimentary interior design suggests. Nothing here is unreasonable – my entree was $8 and you can feed yourself for under $10 – but again, it is comparable to the competition. A family-owned restaurant, Van Loi employs minimal staff. This isn’t a problem due to the aforementioned emptiness, but I wouldn’t want to be there on a busy day.

The diversity of the menu makes Van Loi worth at least a second visit, and a sampling of some of the Chinese BBQ items might lead to a reappraisal. But for now, “authenticity” isn’t enough to put Van Loi ahead of Greensboro’s more appealing Vietnamese establishments.

7/10

Full Dark, No Stars

2011-02-03T21:39:00.000-05:00

Released in 2010, this collection of four Stephen King novellas revolves around everyday folks tapping into their darkest hidden impulses. In “1922”, resentful husband Wilfred James conspires to murder his wife Arlette after she threatens to sell some inherited farmland. “Big Driver” finds a writer of genteel mystery novels plotting revenge on the malicious motorist who raped her. Dave Streeter, the cancer-ridden protagonist of “Fair Extension” makes a deal with the devil to live longer by transferring his misfortune onto someone else. And in “A Good Marriage,” suburban housewife Darcy Anderson discovers that her bland accountant husband is harboring a terrible secret.

Though better known for his sprawling novels, Stephen King has had remarkable success with the novella over the years. The Shawshank Redemption, Stand By Me, and Secret Window all began as King novellas, and the more succinct format curbs the worst of his digressive tendencies. While Full Dark, No Stars isn’t on par with Different Seasons, it’s a pretty good showcase for the best – and the worst – that King is capable of.

“1922” illustrates both extremes. Here, King leaves behind his favored contemporary New England settings in order to give us the Midwest of yesteryear. He does so convincingly: the early chapters of Wilf’s narration feature some sharp diction. But by the end, he sounds all too much like King himself, even referring to the Reader (minus the Dear). Similarly, the epistolary format works when it allows us to see the frightening development of Wilf’s accomplice/son, Henry, through a father’s eyes, but fails spectacularly when trying to narrate information Wilf wasn’t present for. The given explanation (psychic rats told him) is preposterous enough to debase the whole novella. All and all, “1922” reads like A Simple Plan with a more interesting setting and unwanted supernatural baggage.

“Big Driver” offers a different set of strengths and weaknesses. The title is inane, and the rape/revenge plot is overly simplistic and crude. However, the postmodern touches ensure that this rises above genre conventions. The victim, Tess, watches thrillers and begins to think like (or, sometimes, in contrast to) her detective characters. The titular antagonist, while guilty of monstrous acts, isn’t a soulless Michael Myers or even a Norman Daniels (the notoriously misogynistic and nigh-unstoppable villain of King’s Rose Madder), but rather a visible local with a business and a family – complications Tess must take into account when plotting her revenge. The gimmick of having Tess hold conversations with imaginary others (her cat, her main character, etc.) is tired, but nearly plausible given the trauma of her situation. The ending will seem unsatisfactory to some, but like the rest of the novella, it forces both reader and character alike to think beyond popularized conceptions of revenge and make difficult decisions.

On the other hand, “Fair Extension” takes postmodern self-referencing even further, but it doesn’t work nearly as well. George Elvid, the sinister “extension salesman,” defines the kind of devil he is by informing Streeter of the kind of devil he isn’t: he doesn’t want your soul, he won’t keep upping the cost on you, he doesn’t have horns, etc. This is supposed to make him realistic and therefore more terrifying, but it cuts into his menace considerably. What is terrifying is the litany of misfortunes (spouse’s death, business failure, children’s injuries, etc.) a jealous Streeter brings upon his more successful best friend in exchange for being able to live longer and the utter lack of remorse he shows for it. The protagonists of the other novellas at least seem to realize they are crossing lines and going to dark places. Streeter seems blissfully – and disturbingly – unaware.

With “A Good Marriage,” King offers his take on Dennis Rader, the BTK Killer who was also an upstanding citizen. Specifically, he explores how someone can go through more than a quarter century married to a monster without even realizing it. The tension is excellent, the Rader stand-in is magnificently deluded, and plenty of moral boundaries are pushed. Only the pat ending and the implausible forensics mar this otherwise jolting tale.

Taken as a whole, Full Dark, No Stars has ups and downs but delivers more times than not. In the coming years, it will be interesting to see which of the novellas breakout (ala Shawshank) and which are condemned to obscurity.

7.75/10

Kickback Jack's

2011-01-23T19:39:00.000-05:00

Located at 1600 Battleground Ave., Kickback Jack’s offers burgers, sandwiches, salads, entrees and more. Amenities include a plethora of televisions, food and drink specials, karaoke, and a full bar.

Ever since Kickback Jack’s opened in late 2010, its parking lot has been a dense thicket of cars at lunch time. The popularity provoked a visit, and while Kickback Jack’s does not merit daily crowding, it’s easy to see its allure on game days.

The restaurant’s spacious interior is covered with televisions. If JP Looney’s is Dick Cheney’s bunker, than Kickback Jack’s might as well be NSA Headquarters. The unblemished wood tables help sustain the restaurant’s “just opened” freshness.

Moving onto the menu, Kickback Jack’s offers something for everyone, but nothing you can’t get elsewhere. That includes everything from a basket of wings to a steak n ribs combo. The Reuben I tried was spot-on: crispy, melty, and only slightly greasy. A side salad thoughtfully incorporated spinach leaves and bacon bits.

While the food was tasty, neither the quality nor the portion size justified the price tag. Burgers and many sandwiches ran in the $8-10 range. Add a drink or upgrade to a salad and you’re close to paying other establishments’ entrée prices. Service was friendly and efficient, but it’s easy to imagine it being neither with a full house.

On taste and ambience alone, Kickback Jack’s would probably rate higher, but the cost and the central paradox – it’s the kind of place you’d go to watch a football game and the kind of place that’s likely to be too crowded for you to do so – diminishes its attractiveness considerably.

7.25/10

Geana's Restaurant

2011-01-23T19:03:00.000-05:00

Located at 401 Tate St., Geana’s offers burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, and several Southern dishes. Take out is available.

The corner of Tate St. and Walker Ave. has been home to several businesses over the years. The past two (Jibaro and Windy City Hot Dogs) were restaurants owned by the same proprietor. Geana’s offers new ownership and slightly different cuisine, but for better or for worse, some things remain very much the same.

For starters, the restaurant’s interior is largely unchanged. The Chicago sports memorabilia is gone, but the walls are still brightly painted, the counter is identical, and seating is as limited as ever. Clearly, patrons who opt for Geana’s aren’t drawn in by the décor.

The food tells a different story. Just as Windy City augmented the standard burgers-and-dogs menu with Jibaro holdovers like empanadas, Geana’s incorporates several Southern and soul food touches. Chicken and waffles, fried bologna sandwiches, and fried fish. The quality of these offerings varies. The fries are comparable to what you’d find in a supermarket’s frozen aisle, but a cheeseburger done Geana’s way (fully dressed with mushrooms, mustard, pickles, and more) was sloppily satisfying.

Where Geana’s really comes out ahead is in pricing. You can do a whole lunch here (burger, fries, and drink) for about $7, and breakfast for even less. In contrast, surrounding restaurants price their sandwiches in the $5-7 range without a drink. Value is where the similarities to fast food end though: the folks at Geana’s are friendlier, and you won’t get your food nearly as quickly.

Geana’s may lack flair, but for hungry diners on a budget, it’s an option worth considering.

6.75/10

The Long Good Friday

2011-01-10T11:06:00.000-05:00

In the late 1970s, old-school London gangster Harold Shand (Bob Hoskins) tries to modernize and expand by partnering with the American Mafia in a legitimate business venture. Unfortunately, an unseen enemy stands in his way. As his men are picked off left and right, Harold becomes increasingly more violent and paranoid.

British gangster films these days are largely the province of Guy Ritchie. Years before he put his postmodern twist on the genre, however, they tended to be grittier and bleaker. John Mackenzie’s The Long Good Friday rests firmly in this earlier tradition, albeit with a few stylistic modifications. There is a fair amount of flair on screen, as the Rolls Royce-driving Harold clearly enjoys the good life. A catchy theme song by Francis Monkman lends the film a sense of urgency, and the violence depicted is brutal (meat hooks and bottle shards, anyone?) even by modern standards (the film was made in 1979).

Tense, intricate plotting and top-notch acting are really what set apart The Long Good Friday from other films of its ilk. Hoskins, best known for playing Eddie Valiant in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and a variety of Cockney villains, puts his all into Harold Shand, and the result is a sympathetic, principled, though still thoroughly villainous protagonist. He is matched by Helen Mirren as his stylish and cunning girlfriend, Victoria. A young Pierce Brosnan makes his debut here as well, and although he isn’t on screen for very long, his role is pivotal and he displays some of the edge that served him in his later run as James Bond.

Despite the emphasis on character and the action-driven plot, The Long Good Friday packs quite a thematic punch. It offers a snapshot of Britain at a turbulent time, hopeful about economic renewal on the one hand but plagued by The Troubles on the other. But whatever “the world is going to hell” sentiments the film appears to offer are counterbalanced by making the representative of tradition and order an iron-fisted gangster.

If there is one blemish on this work – aside from the British accents being occasionally indecipherable – it is that so much tension is put into the mystery of who is ruining Harold’s Easter weekend that by the time this is revealed, the movie loses a lot of momentum. It redeems itself, however, with an effectively pessimistic conclusion.

The Long Good Friday is not an easy movie to watch. The violence, the accents, and the sheer amount of activity on screen command every bit of your attention. However, if you can get into it, you may find it to be the most meaningful crime film to come from the other side of the Atlantic.

8/10

Poblano's Mexican Bar and Grill

2011-01-04T14:35:00.000-05:00

Poblano’s serves Mexican fare (burritos, tacos, quesadillas, etc.) from three Greensboro locations: 808 Friendly Shopping Center Road, 3900 Battleground Avenue, and 5710-DD High Point Road in the Adams Farm Shopping Center. There is a full-service bar, daily food and drink specials, and frequent discounts and promotions. Regular hours are 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., and brunch is offered until 3 p.m. on Sundays.

With a location nestled in the Friendly Center, Poblano’s is bound to draw a fair amount of shoppers in search of a lunch spot (at least that’s how they first lured me in). The shopping plaza building is surprisingly deep, and the spacious interior offers plenty of seating. While Poblano’s mostly sticks to the standard Mexican restaurant script (Spanish-language music, free chips and salsa), there are a few innovations here. You can get fresh guacamole prepared tableside, the deep menu includes plenty of dessert and vegetarian options, and some of the burrito names (Macho, Monster, Dos Manos) are challenges waiting to be answered. Plus, how often do you find a Mexican Sunday brunch?

Unfortunately, variety aside, the food isn’t very good. Poblano’s offers authentic-style $1 tacos on Tuesdays, but they can’t hold a candle to El Azteca’s. The pastor (marinated pork) was overcooked, there was no avocado, and the curious doubling of the tortillas made for a dry, spongy flavor. A previous order of camarones fundidos fared better, but was still far from exceptional.

Pricing at Poblano’s varies. The abundance of lunch specials ensures that you can get a decent-sized meal and a drink for under $10, but as a dinner spot, it offers no exceptional value. Servers were polite and attentive enough, though you walk away with the sense they can’t get you out the door fast enough.

There are worse options for Mexican than Poblano’s, but with so many better ones around, why bother?

6.25/10

Black Swan

2011-01-01T17:56:00.000-05:00

After winning the potentially star-making lead in a production of Swan Lake, ballet dancer Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) struggles to keep her favored position. Her ethically challenged director (Vincent Cassel) berates her for a lack of passion while her ex-dancer mother (Barbara Hershey) seeks to shelter her from the world. The arrival of Lilly (Mila Kunis), a brash new dancer from California, sends Nina down a path of unexplored possibilities.

After toning down his trademark style to achieve documentary realism in The Wrestler, director once again ratchets sight and sound up to 11. There’s some call for this, as a movie about ballet should emphasize music and fluid motion. However, the persistent Clint Mansell score and overblown theatrics are a poor substitute for effective storytelling. Moreover, the body horror and mindscrew imagery that worked so wonderfully well in Requiem for a Dream feels out of place here. It’s one thing to indulge in the surreal when all the major characters are severely substance-addled, but as a reaction to stress, some of Black Swan’s visuals come off as downright ridiculous.

The single most irksome thing about this movie, however, is the implication that audiences wouldn’t understand it without the grandiosity. There are clear thematic parallels between Nina’s life and the show she’s a part of, and the Black Swan as a metaphor for repressed desire is easy enough to pick up. That doesn’t stop Aronofsky from beating the audience over the head to drive the point home, whether it’s a character telling Nina to loosen up every five minutes or so or some of the nightmares the girl herself experiences. These heavy-handed machinations leave the viewer with an urge to yell “We get it!” at the screen.

What salvages this film in a big way is the acting. Portman is terrific as Nina, portraying her as repressed, put-upon, and about-to-crack yet still graceful and doll-like. The supporting roles are all considerably more one-note, but the rival/vamp, the lecherous egotist of a director, the overbearing mother, and the washed-up former starlet are ably played by Kunis (for once, not a glaring weak link), Cassel, Hershey, and Winona Rider.

Further, even when he goes stylistically overboard, Aaronofsky proves himself quite capable at building and maintaining tension. That he can make a movie about ballet this exciting is a testament to his ability. The ending of film and show within are both depicted so powerfully that we are almost tempted to overlook the complete lack of plausibility in the waning moments.

Black Swan will likely please the type of viewer who equates evocation with brilliance. It’s a botched though noble effort, easily worth seeing for Portman’s performance as well as a glimpse of how much better it could have been.

7.5/10

Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen

2011-01-01T17:21:00.000-05:00

Located at 1421 Westover Terrace in Greensboro, Lucky 32 offers seasonal Southern fare. The restaurant is open for lunch and dinner daily and offers brunch on the weekends. Food can also be ordered in individual or family-sized portions to go. Wine tastings are held periodically, each emphasizing a different region.

I wanted to make my last meal of 2010 a steak. After balking at the crowds at two steakhouses, I ended up at Lucky 32. Had I known what I was in for, I would have made it my first choice rather than my third. Owned by the Quaintance-Weaver group (the folks responsible for the Green Valley Grill and Print Works), Lucky 32 offers top-notch food at fairly reasonable prices.

The Southern-influenced menu offers dressed-up versions of regional favorites. Shrimp and grits, chicken and dumplings, and pulled pork all make an appearance, but nobody will be mistaking the presentation for Cracker Barrel. There were enough enticing options that I nearly abandoned my planned steak. In the end, I stuck to my guns and was richly rewarded: the blue cheese and herb crusted sirloin was tender and flavorful. Creamy mashed potatoes and a crunchy grit cake provided a good balance of textures and flavors.

For upscale dining, Lucky 32 is remarkably wallet-friendly. My steak and three sides cost only $21, and most of the entrees run under $20. That’s decidedly cheaper than Print Works or Green Valley, and the food compares favorably.

Ambience, however, is a different story. While Print Works is known for its bright, open atmosphere and Green Valley exudes stately and cavernous, Lucky 32 is a darker, more intimate space. There is plenty of seating, but space between tables is at a premium.

Service during my visit was prompt – a pleasant surprise given the New Year’s Eve crowds. Servers were courteous, though not the chatty sort. Questions regarding the menu were quickly answered.

Refined yet affordable, Lucky 32 is a must for anyone who wants to savor Southern cooking done right. It hasn’t edged Print Works as far as I’m concerned, but it still merits several return engagements.

8.5/10

True Grit

2010-12-26T20:11:00.000-05:00

When her father is murdered by hired hand Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), 14-year-old Mattie Ross (Halie Steinfeld) hires notorious U.S. Marshal Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges), a one-eyed drunk of notoriously mean temperament, to help bring Chaney to justice. They form an uneasy alliance with La Boeuf (Matt Damon), a proud Texas Ranger who has been pursuing Chaney in connection with another crime.

Remaking a film whose lead actor won an Oscar for the role seems like a tall order, but for the Coen Brothers, anything cinematic is possible. The 1969 version of True Grit featured arguably the best performance of John Wayne’s career and supporting turns by the likes of Robert Duvall and Dennis Hopper. Nevertheless, the 2010 version surpasses it in every way.

The biggest difference between the two is the Coens’ decision to hew closely to the source material, Charles Portis’ novel. The novel is told through Mattie’s eyes as an adult narrator, which gives her an increased role and the film a rather different tone. The Coens also preserved a lot of the novel’s dialogue, leading to plenty of laugh-out-loud moments as deadpan remarks (“You are not La Boeuf,” Rooster observes as a bearskin-clad stranger approaches) and puffed-up prose. Lastly, not having to worry about filling The Duke’s shoes allows The Dude to interpret Rooster Cogburn in his own fashion. The result is a buffoonish, broken-down drunk who can nevertheless get the job done with amazing efficiency when the stakes are raised.

Bridges’ co-stars are every bit as good. Damon’s easily offended La Boeuf has comic relief trappings, but he’s still credible as a man of action. Ditto Brolin’s Chaney, a poorly regarded lout who is nevertheless a menace. Curiously, the role of gang leader Ned Pepper (Duvall in the original version) is played by Barry Pepper, who makes the most of his brief screen time.

However, the film is truly buoyed by Steinfeld, a relative newcomer who more than holds her own. She approaches Mattie with poise and makes the character almost admirable without betraying the book’s vision. The cinematic Mattie is still headstrong, insistent, and brave beyond her years, but not quite as insufferable as the literary narrator.

The look and sound of the film are top-notch thanks to the return of frequent Coen collaborators Roger Deakins (cinematography) and Carter Burwell (music). There is a good amount of frontier violence here, but True Grit has nothing on the Coens’ last foray out west (No Country For Old Men).

Whether it’s dark comedy or stark drama, an homage-laden original or a faithful adaptation, the Coen Brothers have proven in recent years that they are capable of writing and directing just about any kind of film. Where True Grit ranks among their other films is a matter of fan opinion (the competition is stiff, to say the least), but it singlehandedly defies the notion that remakes of decent flicks will be inherently inferior.

8.25/10

Tron: Legacy

2010-12-21T16:50:00.000-05:00

In 1989, revolutionary software engineer Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges) abruptly disappeared. Twenty years later, his son Sam (Garrett Hedlund) is a hacktivist loner struggling to make sense of his father’s disappearance. A mysterious page leads Sam back to Kevin’s arcade, where he is sucked into The Grid, the digital world of his father’s creation. On the run from the tyrannical A.I. Clu (Bridges again, digitally de-aged), Sam must reunite with Kevin and return to the real world before the programs do.

When the original Tron was released in 1982, it generated a cult following and critical praise in spite of its confusing plot due to impressive special effects and an inventive premise. This much-belated sequel increases both the visual splendor and the disorienting plotting, to a mixed, though largely favorable result.

Those who enjoyed the original Tron will be pleased to see Bridges and Bruce Boxleitner (as fellow programmer Alan Bradley and his A.I. counterpart, Tron) back in action. However, aside from those two, series creator Steven Lisberger serving as a producer, and Cillian Murphy cameoing as the original antagonist’s son, there isn’t enough continuity here to overwhelm a first-time viewer. This is a definite plus, in that the film is confusing enough as-is. The double-dose of Jeff Bridges is visually jarring, and Clu’s turn to the dark side is extremely abrupt: basically, he turns on his creator when Kevin forsakes him for Isomorphic Algorithms, advanced creations that could potentially unlock tons of human mysteries. How exactly this would happen is anyone’s guess.

Visually, the film captures the look and feel of being inside a 1980s computer game. So strong is the disconnect between that world and ours that it is extremely difficult to accurately describe – picture a lot of black space with brightly colored lines everywhere. That the film can present this world as being awe-inspiring rather than ridiculous is a strong indication of how much money and effort went into the design.

Unfortunately, the film is ridiculous in other ways. This being a Disney production, the acting is prone to cheesiness. Bridges as Clu ventures into cardboard-cutout villainy while Bridges as Flynn channels an aged version of The Dude. Michael Sheen is also excessively campy a David Bowie-esque digital nightclub owner. On the flip side, Hedlund is credible in the lead, Olivia Wilde is passable, and Daft Punk amusingly cameo as DJs in Sheen’s nightclub.

Tron: Legacy is perhaps too conventional in its approach to generate the same kind of analysis that came in the wake of The Matrix films. It is also too complex and convoluted to function as pure entertainment. But as mildly thought-provoking eye candy featuring Jeff Bridges doing Jeff Bridges things, it reaches a solid middle ground.

7.75/10

Dominion

2010-12-21T15:58:00.000-05:00

In this Medieval-themed card game, two to four players compete to amass the most property in the kingdom. From an initial deal of five coin and three property cards, players build their decks by amassing action cards as well as additional coin and property, each with a different value. Action cards may do anything from grant the player more coin to penalize an opponent. When an end condition is reached (typically, all the highest-value property cards have been drawn), the property is totaled and a winner is declared.

The appeal of Dominion lies in its flexibility. There are more than a dozen different action cards, and they can be mixed and matched to build a custom game every time. Through trial and error, it is easy to eliminate any cards you don’t like (I’m looking at you, Adventurer) and focus on those that make the game the most interesting.

In addition, Dominion forces players to think strategically. If your opponents are buying Thief (costs you coin) and Witch (costs you property value via “curse” cards) cards, you’d better stock up on Moats (defends against attack cards). If property is disappearing fast, you’d be wise to grab what you can, even if it’s a paltry Estate. Not only does this forced adaptability increase player involvement in the game, but it deemphasizes luck. You don’t like the hand you drew? Guess what, you bought the cards.

Like all games, there is a bit of a learning curve. Dominion’s multi-phase (one action and one buy) turns take some getting used to, and the relative lack of warfare (Militia cards aside) may make the game seem boring to newcomers. Once you adjust, however, it becomes both easy and engrossing. Each configuration of cards and group of opponents bring new challenges. There are also expansion packs to increase the possibilities.

8/10

Over the Edge

2010-12-19T20:27:00.000-05:00

Trapped in a dull planned community, misunderstood youth seek refuge in audacity. Their drug-dealing and petty crime goes unnoticed at first, but increasing tension with local police eventually leads to tragedy and violent reprisals.

Released in 1979, it’s hard to tell if Jonathan Kaplan’s film was intended as edgy social criticism or as a B-grade message movie. It’s dated, to say the least – teenagers engaging in debauchery is hardly shocking these days – but there’s still an unsettling core here. The idea that teenagers should be regarded as people with legitimate issues and concerns and not as a municipal image problem is a lesson the largely clueless adults learn all too late.

Unfortunately, the film’s thematic promise is nearly betrayed by acting that is mediocre at best. Matt Dillon makes his debut as a gun-toting delinquent, but no one will confuse him for James Dean. The chief protagonist, Carl (Michael Eric Kramer), is supposed to be torn between his parents and his friends, but the conflict is heavily skewed to favor the latter. Starpower may be overrated, but Over the Edge could have used some stronger acting, even if only in a glorified cameo.

On the flip side, the movie does boast a quality soundtrack (Van Halen, The Ramones, and Cheap Trick, among other bands) and the cinematography effectively captures the suffocating yuppie boredom of New Granada.

The best reasons for watching this movie, however, come from real life. It was inspired by a San Francisco article about a youth crime spree and it went on to have a profound effect on one viewer, Kurt Cobain. Watch the video for “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and bask in the similarities.

7.25/10

Firefly

2010-12-19T20:24:00.000-05:00

500 years in the future amid a galaxy full of colonized planets, former resistance fighter Mal Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) captains the Serenity, a cargo ship for hire. The ragtag crew includes tough second-in-command Zoe (Gina Torres), her laidback pilot husband Wash (Alan Tudyk), perpetually cheerful engineer Kaylee (Jewel Staite), sophisticated courtesan Inara (Morena Baccarin), and uncouth muscle-for-hire Jayne (Adam Baldwin). The crew is soon joined by a pair of fugitives on the run from the ruling Alliance: upper-class doctor Simon Tam (Sean Maher) and his disturbed teenage sister, River (Summer Glau). As the Serenity crew loots and smuggles its way across the galaxy, it must stay one step ahead of crime bosses, cannibals, and, of course, the Alliance.

The epitome of a cult classic, Firefly aired for a single season in 2002. When Fox pulled the plug, fan outrage was such that it inspired series creator Joss Whedon to put together a movie (2005’s Serenity) just to tie up some loose ends. To say that the franchise deserved a longer lifespan is like saying that the Titanic should have had more than one voyage.

To put it simply, Firefly offers something for everyone. Fans of Whedon’s previous series (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) can rejoice at his trademark snarky dialogue, while those who found Buffy incredibly silly can revel in Firefly’s frontier grit. A fast-paced space western with obvious Star Wars influences (as a risk-taking anti-hero, Mal frequently channels Han Solo), the show still avoids many genre clichés. Alliance soldiers, for example, are less the minions of Big Brother and more the annoying bureaucratic types who can nevertheless be reasoned with. Likewise, instead of ripping off John Williams, the show opts for a blues number by Sonny Rhodes as its theme song.

This unique vision would amount to naught if the execution wasn’t there. Fortunately, it is – in a big way. Cast to perfection, Firefly presents a crew of misfits who are thoroughly entertaining and engaging if a bit predictable. It’s never a surprise when Mal picks a fight, Jayne contemplates betrayal, or River has a breakdown, but there are more than a few swerves as well. A strong sense of continuity ensures that the stupid decisions of one episode will come back to bite the crew later on as the series progresses.

If there’s one drawback to Firefly, it’s that the short production run leaves a lot of questions unanswered. What exactly is wrong with River Tam doesn’t become fully apparent until the movie, and the mysterious past of “Shepherd” Book isn’t revealed on screen at all.

Eight years after going off the air, Firefly continues to maintain a strong following. That a show which only existed for 14 episodes (not all of which originally aired) can still leave people wanting more nearly a decade later is a testament to its all-around excellence.

8.75/10

Apparition and Late Fictions

2010-12-15T11:52:00.000-05:00

The debut story collection from undertaker-turned-poet Thomas Lynch, Apparition and Late Fictions contains the title novella and four shorter works, all of which are united by a sense of loss.

Plowing through Lynch’s writing is the equivalent of driving a Honda with a 500-horsepower engine. His prose is simply masterful. Whether describing the violence of murder as “hunter-gatherly” or using a pilot’s crisp epaulettes to show a character’s preference for refinement, Lynch’s command of language is as fresh and innovative as it is precise.

Unfortunately, a good turn of phrase does not a good story make. Though an established memoirist and poet, it’s fairly clear that Lynch has yet to fully grow into the role of storyteller. The fiction contained here is ponderously paced and weighed down by an overemphasis on backstory. Worse still, his endings are either abrupt (“Martin never heard from her again.”), asynchronous, or quixotic.

However, this isn’t to say that the collection is pretty prose and nothing more. As a mortician, Lynch excels at creating a pervasive sense of sorrow, whether it be an embalmer grieving for a murder victim (“Bloodsport”), a fisherman mourning his father “Catch and Release”), or a retiree torn up over his several failed marriages (“Hunter’s Moon”). In addition, Lynch succeeds at taking unsympathetic characters and making them pitiable and interesting. The protagonist of “Matinee de Septembre” is a spoiled, elitist academic who ends up hopelessly pining for a Jamaican serving girl half her age while the title novella’s straightlaced preacher-turned-motivational speaker only feels divine inspiration after divorcing his unfaithful wife and engaging in random debauchery. Funny moments are few and far between, but when they work – i.e. a woman demanding a priest annoint a dog because it is a “Catholic” dog – they really work well.

Apparition and Late Fictions is a flawed but promising first effort, worthwhile as an introduction to an author who is likely to impress once he becomes more familiar with his craft.

7.5/10

Red

2010-11-15T22:48:00.000-05:00

Struggling to adjust to civilian life, retired CIA hitman Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) tries to woo Sarah (Mary-Louise Parker), a customer service rep several hundred miles away. Unfortunately, before he can make his move, someone at Langley decides he’s a liability and tries to eliminate him and his former (and equally over-the-hill) teammates. Naturally, they decide to fight back.

Directed by Robert Schwentke and adapted from a limited-series DC comic book of the same name, Red offers perhaps the best balance of action and comedy since Hot Fuzz. The sensibility is flat-out ridiculous (case-in-point: the CIA’s secret files are guarded by a somehow-not-dead Ernest Borgnine), but there enough explosions and well-rounded characters to keep things interesting.

Led by a seemingly ageless (ironic, given the premise) Willis, the cast is mostly game. Bald Bruce can still run, shoot, and fight with the poise of a late-80s John McLane. He’s flanked by a hapless, sympathetic Parker, an affably deadly Russian (Brian Cox, pulling off yet another accent), and a demure Englishwoman (Helen Mirren), who happens to be a lethal sniper. John Malkovich nearly steals the show, however, as a paranoid, gun-crazy, bunker-dwelling loon – a comic counterpart to his character from In the Line of Fire. Morgan Freeman is in the mix too as Frank’s mentor, but his screen time is all-too-brief.

Unfortunately, the bad guys and secondary characters aren’t nearly as well-cast or earnestly portrayed. Karl Urban is a bit too likeable as Willis’ would-be replacement at the Agency, Julian McMahon looks like neither a vice president nor a former soldier (he’s supposed to be both), and a tough-to-recognize Richard Dreyfuss hams it up as a smarmy, politically connected arms dealer. These shortcomings rob the film of its needed tension and steer it toward a very predictable conclusion.

Neither innovative nor plausible, Red nevertheless hits home as an enjoyable action-comedy that offers unexpected insight on the perils of both ageism and growing old.

7.5

Fincastles Diner

2010-10-11T14:51:00.000-04:00

Located at 218 South Elm Street in downtown Greensboro, Fincastles offers burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, and other lighter fare. Limited outdoor seating is available.

Fincastles may have an Irish-sounding name, but don’t come here looking for corned beef and cabbage– the cuisine is pure American Southern. Regional flourishes include sides like fried green tomatoes and crawfish tails, as well as Carolina-style (chili, mustard, onions, and slaw) burgers and dogs.

Unfortunately, this is one case where distinction and variety are poor stand-ins for quality. An Elm Street burger (pickles and cheese) was misshapen and surprisingly small, while the pimento cheese sauce – they are big on that here – is an acquired taste, to say the least. The best thing about it was the sourdough bun. Sweet potato fries fared better, but the portion size was hardly generous.

The interior of Fincastles is decidedly retro. From the gaudy tile and the old-school jukebox to the plus-sized Coke bottle decoration and the long service counter, the place screams vintage small-town burger joint, even though it’s in the heart of a major city. Needless to say, this is not a good place to enjoy a quiet meal…or a prompt one. The lone server was friendly enough, but no match for the sizeable lunch crowd.

Given the small servings and the boisterous ambience, one would at least expect Fincastles to be a bargain. No dice. Burgers run $4 and up, with no sides. Add a side and a drink to round out the meal, and you’re looking at paying double-digits for something you can get better and cheaper at a fast food establishment.

The location and the menu’s innovations make Fincastle’s worth an occasional visit, but there is no shortage of superior lunch options.

6.75/10

The Social Network

2010-10-09T19:52:00.000-04:00

Dumped by his girlfriend and eager to impress a prestigious club, Harvard computer geek Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) creates a Web site that allows students to rate their female classmates. After much controversy and consternation, Zuckerberg and his friends create Facebook. As the social networking site takes off and launches Zuckerberg to newfound fame and fortune, he falls into conflict with his best friend/cofounder (Andrew Garfield) and a pair of privileged twins (Armie Hammer) whose idea he might have stolen.

I was in college when Facebook was launched, and I remember how quickly and voraciously it spread, converting naysayers and adding new schools and new members at an unfathomable pace. Naturally, the story behind this phenomenon is of curiosity to many members of my generation, whether they love or loathe Zuckerberg’s creation. But what makes The Social Network so interesting is that the story behind the story is almost as compelling and curious as the film itself.

Directed by David Fincher and written by Aaron Sorkin (a wonderfully paranoid downer and a clever leftist technophobe, respectively), The Social Network bares only a casual resemblance to the truth. Eisenberg plays Zuckerberg as an isolated, insecure, yet intelligent jerk. Obviously, the young billionaire didn’t get to where he is by being Mr. Sunshine, but the fact that he was in a stable relationship while the film was being made clashes inconveniently with the celluloid image. Likewise, co-founder Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield) is made to be a much more sympathetic character while downplaying his incompetence as CFO, and Saverin’s rival, Napster founder Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), is given a more antagonistic role – no wonder given that Saverin served as a consultant for the book that served as the movie’s source material.

Despite the overt factual manipulation, The Social Network remains a generally well-crafted film. The leads deliver memorable performances, Sorkin’s dialogue is as sharp as ever, and the Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross soundtrack hits all the right notes. Fincher caught some flak for his reliance on CGI – how else could he get both Winklevoss brothers in the same shot? – but the end result is fairly seamless.

Like Oliver Stone’s W., The Social Network suffers from not achieving enough chronological distance from its subject. Both films also subvert reality in the name of storytelling. The key difference is that the Fincher/Sorkin effort is marked by a more consistent tone and a more harmonious creative vision.

8/10

Kiosco Mexican Grill

2010-10-09T18:34:00.002-04:00

Located at 3011 Spring Garden Street, Kiosco offers tacos, burritos, fajitas, and a wide variety of Mexican house specials. There is a full-service bar, and outdoor seating is available. Food and drink specials change daily.

Mexican dining in Greensboro is largely a series of trade-offs. Some establishments can make a mean taco (El Azteca), but lack ambience while others offer plenty of seating and variety (El Mariachi), but don’t always guarantee a good meal. Of all the local Mexican restaurants I’ve been to (six at last count), Kiosco comes the closest to offering the total package.

First, the food: the menu isn’t quite as stacked at El Mariachi’s, but it’s still plenty expansive in its own right. There are scores of specials for the lunch crowd, but those coming for dinner will still find plenty, from classic carnitas to sizzling steak fajitas and a few things you can’t find elsewhere. Ever want the contents of a burrito Texano tossed together, minus the burrito, and topped with cheese? They have that here, and they do it well: the A.C.P. Texano is well-seasoned and not too dry. Full-sized and half-sized options ensure the right fit for every appetite.

The food would be a draw in and of itself, but the service at Kiosco is spectacular. Servers are friendly, abundant, and lightning-quick. You won’t be sitting for more than a minute before someone takes your drink order, and that glass won’t remain empty for long unless you want it to be. Both the chips (complimentary with salsa, as they should be) and the check were delivered promptly and amicably.

Kiosco isn’t a large place, but the seating capacity is deceptive. Though the booths are few, the long table and the bar seat many. Outdoor seating in nicer weather further increases the capacity. Kiosco’s interior is as dark, calm and tastefully subdued as Mexico Restaurant’s is garishly colorful. A few TVs add appeal for sports fans.

One would expect to overpay for all these intangibles, but Kiosco manages to keep it reasonable. If you stick with the half-size on an entrée (adequate for a non-famished party of one), you can feed yourself for under $10. Nothing here is a steal, but the quality justifies the price.

Cheaper and gaudier/more fun Mexican restaurants exist, but Kiosco offers the best blend of food, service, and value. Until another establishment decides to step up its game, Kiosco gets my vote for Greensboro’s finest.

8.5/10

Twilight

2010-10-09T12:19:00.000-04:00

Guest Review by Jen Julian

Stephenie Meyer is not to be underestimated as a writer. With a few exceptions in which she lovingly details the Pacific Northwest, the ever-rainy setting for her vampire romance Twilight, she is not afraid to embarrass herself with mawkish, overblown prose. She also possesses a talent for knowing her intended audience, and she exploits them constantly and without shame. This is not a novel to be read meticulously. In fact, I argue that it can only be enjoyed through either complete intellectual surrender or detached irony. Otherwise, it’s a grotesque read, with a bare-bones plot, an incorrigible subtext, and characters that are, at best, unlikable and, at worst, overt manipulations from the author.

The book’s seventeen-year-old protagonist, Bella Swan, is probably the best example of Meyer’s manipulative handiwork. Bella, the product of divorced parents, moves to Forks, Washington to live with her dad and meets dreamy, brooding vamp Edward Cullen at her local high school (that’s the basic plot, for those of you who’ve been living under a rock). A different protagonist could have made Twilight into a bearable or even meaningful young adult book. But Bella is not so much a character as she is an expertly designed placeholder for the reader. She fluctuates wildly from self-pity, to disdain, to blind rapture for the godly, often condescending Edward. Basically everything that she feels is unreasonable, though still somehow believable, given that she is exactly how a self-centered teenager would portray herself if inserted into a novel like this one. Bella is just nice enough that she doesn’t have to face confrontation, she never reciprocates to the high school peers that extend themselves to her, and on a whim she performs acts of unnecessary selflessness, the author’s way of reminding us that she is an innocent, sacrificial lamb. Never once does Meyer ask us to question this character’s behavior, and by the end of the novel, Bella has received everything she could possibly want with little effort. The appeal to teenage readers should be obvious.

Edward is also an overt manipulation, a beautiful, self-tormenting “vegetarian” vampire that abstains, both from sex and human blood. He does sparkle in the sun, literally, but this deviation from traditional vampire lore serves no purpose for the “plot” and is the least of Twilight’s problems. Edward is madly in love with Bella but also holds a burning desire to eat her. He stalks her, sneaks into her room to watch her sleep, and consistently overpowers her both physically and emotionally. While the subtext is disconcerting, Meyer’s preferred message is clear: Edward is there as a protector. He is to protect Bella from everything, including her own rampant desires and the dangers that their relationship imposes. Young women just entering into the scary world of adulthood might find this kind of controlled relationship comforting. Combine that with Bella Swan’s inescapable relatability and you’ve got a legion of hypnotized fans.

Twilight is most enjoyed by teen girls and by adult women who have fond memories of their first high school crushes. It is particularly enjoyed by those who would prefer to remain as teenagers forever, as this is the kind of reward that Meyer’s novel offers. Edward is gorgeous, rich, powerful and immortal, and the adult world beyond him is portrayed as dull and insufficient. Most all characters, Bella’s high school friends, parents and teachers, are insignificant when up against Edward and his vampire family. Twilight, on a whole, is the kind of novel that persuades women to remain locked up inside their heads, discouraging them from exploring the world of responsibility and adulthood. Meyer, something like the literary equivalent of Dr. Frankenstein, has tapped into an overflowing subconscious vein, and she has brought the hulking monster to life.

1.5/10 for the writing, 6/10 for the evil ingenuity

The Town

2010-09-26T21:07:00.000-04:00

Doug MacRay (Ben Affleck), a former hockey prospect-turned-thief from the rough Boston neighborhood of Charlestown, robs banks with best friend Jem (Jeremy Renner) and their crew. After briefly being taken hostage by the gang, bank manager Claire Keesey (Rebecca Hall) becomes traumatized and falls into the arms of Doug, unaware that he was one of her abductors. Meanwhile, ruthless FBI agent Adam Frawley (Jon Hamm) is determined to take down the crew and their boss, Fergus the Florist (Peter Postlethwaite).

In a strange bit of irony, the nicer and more gentrified Boston seems to get, the grittier its cinema becomes. The past decade has given us Mystic River, Gone, Baby, Gone, and The Departed. The Town is certainly in the same vein (with a healthy smattering of Heat thrown in for good measure), though not quite up to the level of its cinematic forbearers.

Both the film’s strengths and shortcomings lie with Affleck, who also directed and co-wrote the script (adapting Chuck Hogan’s novel Prince of Thieves). The film has a tough urban sensibility to it, and the action sequences are competent, if not exactly groundbreaking (The Dark Knight may have raised the bar for bank robbery scenes to an impossibly high level). Praise should be given, however, for somehow cobbling together a credible chase involving narrow streets and a minivan.

Performances were likewise convincing, to the point that Boston accents occasionally became indecipherably thick. Affleck, Hamm, Hall, and especially Renner (a hotheaded thug with a strong sense of loyalty) do a good job of imbuing their characters with depth and moral ambiguity, but this is one case where “conflicted” doesn’t equal “interesting.” Are we really supposed to be surprised that professional criminals still have humanity or that the FBI would resort to underhanded tactics?

Sadly, this lack of profundity permeates the film’s overly conventional plotting. Not only is the ending clichéd and predictable, but you can probably make good money betting on the victims and survivors. Unlike an Eastwood or a Scorcese film or even Affleck’s own previous effort, shocking moments are as scarce here as a Yankees fan in Fenway.

Engrossing, stark, and generally well-crafted, The Town is a serviceable crime drama which disappoints only in its inability to transcend the boundaries and expectations of its genre.

7.25/10

Bonsai Japanese Restaurant & Sushi Bar

2010-09-19T19:51:00.000-04:00

Located beside the Hobby Lobby at 1315 Bridford Parkway, Bonsai offers a wide variety of sushi and Japanese entrees. Alcohol is available, the menu includes vegetarian options, and specials change daily.

Hibachi grills are typically a polarizing issue. Some love the theatricality of food being dramatically chopped and tossed on a hot grill; others balk at the communal seating. Bonsai deftly sidesteps the debate by offering hibachi-style entrees minus the fanfare. You can take your pick of chicken, steak, pork, seafood, or some combination thereof, served with rice and your choice of vegetable. The presentation leaves something to be desired – it’s all lumped together on a plate – but the food tastes better than you’d find at a mall food court establishment. A hint of blandness is easily corrected thanks to a dollop of ginger, teriyaki, or white sauce.

Spacious and booth-laden, Bonsai’s interior suggests a pricier menu than is actually available. Entrees start at an uber-reasonable $6, and sushi rolls can be had for as low as $4. You can feed yourself easily for under $10, a surprise given the amount and quality of food available.

Service at Bonsai is uneven. Servers are certainly polite, but a bit on the slow side even when there isn’t a crowd. Twice, a waiter brought out more sushi than was ordered, only to quickly realize the mistake.

Bonsai lacks the flair of other Japanese establishments, and you won’t be guaranteed a great dining experience, but the price makes it hard to pass up.

7.5/10

The Expendables

2010-08-22T20:17:00.000-04:00

A group of elite mercenaries led by Barney Ross (Sylvester Stallone) is contracted by a shady CIA operative (Bruce Willis) to take out the ruling general (David Zayas) of a resource-rich island. Despite his misgivings about the mission, Ross falls for the general’s idealistic daughter (Gisele Itie) and decides to make a difference. But will the general’s backer, a former CIA agent-turned- drug profiteer (Eric Roberts) strike first?

Directed by Stallone and featuring plenty of familiar faces (Mickey Rourke, Dolph Lundgren, Jason Statham, Jet Li, Steve Austin, and, in a cameo, Arnold Schwarzenegger), The Expendables is an homage to the violent action movies of the 1980s. It nails many of the genre’s conventions, but that isn’t necessarily a good thing. Like countless interchangeable explosionfests of yesteryear, The Expendables features paper-thin plotting, flat characterization, substandard acting (Rourke being perhaps the lone exception), and a ridiculously high body count.

What saves The Expendables from being a B-movie with an intriguing cast is its postmodern, tongue-in-cheek sensibility. The script is loaded with in-jokes (Willis’ character shares a name with the Senate committee that depowered the CIA, Ah-nold’s character is mocked for wanting to be president, etc.) and several legitimately funny moments. Lundgren’s character is also a fitting metaphor for the action hero as a whole: drug-addled, unstable, and difficult to work with.

In addition, the action sequences are exciting and credible. Stallone is in great shape for someone on the wrong side of 60, Statham and Li demonstrate their martial arts skills (the former also throws a mean knife), and anyone who wanted to see wrestling legend Austin fight MMA legend Randy Couture will have plenty to cheer about.

The Expendables certainly isn’t breaking any new ground and some will consider it a disappointment in the sense that it remains gleefully shallow despite its self-aware underpinnings. But by the standards of its (admittedly limited) genre, it’s a slam-dunk.

7/10

Crazy Heart

2010-08-08T21:21:00.000-04:00

Bad Blake (Jeff Bridges) is a washed-up, alcoholic country music star who is reduced to opening and writing songs for his former protégé, Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell). When journalist Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal) approaches him for an interview, they connect and he becomes a father figure to his young son. But will Blake, who is already alienated from his biological son, allow his bad habits to screw up the opportunity?

Crazy Heart is ample evidence that a great performance does not a great movie make. Scott Cooper’s film is slow-paced and conventional to the point of tired. There are numerous similarities to Tender Mercies, right on down to a shared cast member (Robert Duvall). And didn’t Mickey Rourke’s turn in The Wrestler make the “aging screwed-up has-been turns his life around” subgenre obsolete?

Nevertheless, this isn’t worth discarding. Bridges, in an Oscar-winning role, is excellent as the irrepressible Blake, a composite of Kris Kristofferson, Merle Haggard, and several lesser-known musicians. Gyllenhaal and Duvall (as Blake’s sympathetic friend) are rock-solid as voices of reason. Even Farrell is strangely credible as the young upstart Sweet.

Fans of country music will probably be enthralled by the behind-the-scenes talent. In addition to the leads laying down their own vocals, Crazy Heart features contributions from T-Bone Burnett and Ryan Bingham (who won an Oscar for the song “The Weary Kind”). As someone who nearly cringes every time country is played, I can’t say I’m in a position to appreciate any of it.

When all is said and done, Crazy Heart’s tired tale of redemption has just enough juice to win audiences over. You’ll probably like it, but you won’t be able to shake the feeling you’ve seen it all before.

7.25/10

The Blue Star

2010-08-05T13:29:00.000-04:00

In this sequel to Jim the Boy, a now-teenaged Jim Glass falls hard for Chrissie Steppe, the mysterious, reluctant girlfriend of local bigshot Bucky Bucklaw, who has left Aliceville to fight in World War II. With war tensions mounting and gossip spreading, Jim tries to figure out a way to win Chrissie over. Meanwhile, a long-ago romance between her mother and Jim’s protective Uncle Zeno threatens to complicate the situation even further.

The Blue Star marks the maturation of not only a character, but an author as well. While Jim the Boy gave Tony Earley a chance to introduce compelling characters and show off his North Carolina roots, there was something cloyingly winsome and provincial about that text. Thankfully, both The Blue Star and its protagonist have developed a bit of an edge. War, love triangles, teen pregnancy, and discrimination permeate this follow-up. Aliceville is still Aliceville, but Earley wisely decided to let more of the outside world in.

This isn’t to say that anyone will be confusing Earley with Palahniuk any time soon. The Blue Star’s plot and conflict are both conventional and familiar, as if ripped from some black-and-white melodrama. However, an infusion of colorful characters keeps it from being too mundane. Jim’s three bickering uncles are back, joined for this go-around by his juvenile friend Dennis Deane and his former flame Norma Harris (who, truth be told, seems a little too nice). Though absent from the actual narrative, Chrissie’s outlaw Cherokee father casts a dark shadow over the book, much the same way Jim’s bootlegger grandfather did the last go-around.

Earley carries over the practice of revealing out-of-narrative information through letters between the adults. It provides an interesting point of contrast for the story that’s being told through Jim’s eyes, but the effect it produces is akin to watching a movie where a lot of the big moments happen off-screen. Similarly, the book’s time structure is incredibly uneven. One day might span two chapters, while the next chapter might take place a month in the future.

The Blue Star’s title refers to a symbol hung in a window to indicate a member of a family is serving during wartime. The set-up for a continuation of Jim's adventures in a future book is insultingly obvious, but like everything else that’s wrong here (the simplicity, the familiarity, the cheese sentimentality), it works anyway. Above all else, Earley has created a character whose life you want to read about, and that is no small feat.

7.25/10

Losing My Cool: How a Father's Love and 15,000 Books Beat Hip-hop Culture

2010-08-03T14:31:00.000-04:00

Growing up in the 1980s and 1990s in suburban New Jersey, biracial Thomas Chatteron Williams fortifies his blackness by investing himself in hip-hop culture. This puts him at odds with his father, a proud black intellectual who had to fight for knowledge and respect. As Williams moves from New Jersey to Georgetown and swaps one set of friends for another, his notions about race and self take a series of dramatic turns.

Social critics are notorious blowhards and memoirists are notoriously self-indulgent, so a memoir by a social critic automatically has two strikes against it. Fortunately, Williams avoids the pitfalls of ponderous polemics and delivers an engaging tale of what it means to be black in the post-Civil Rights Era.

A Union County native (as am I), Williams captures the social geography of the Garden State to a T. Those who grew up in crime-ridden Newark and Irvington welcomed any opportunity to escape, while those who grew up in the suburbs wished they had the inner-city street cred. This moronic paradox underscores the necessity of Williams’ eventual flight to Georgetown and foreshadows his transformation from wannabe thug to perceptive young thinker.

Though an apostate of hip-hop culture, Williams eschews finger-pointing. His message is deeper and more complex than “bling bad, books good.” Instead, he convincingly makes the case that neither rappers nor their admirers (among whom he counts several friends) are inherently negative, but rather that young black men and women should not allow the shoes they wear and the music they listen to define them. It’s an important insight and it’s delivered by someone who’s been through it all.

8.25/10

Extract

2010-07-25T20:58:00.000-04:00

Trapped in a sexless marriage, flavor extract factory owner Joel (Jason Bateman) is looking for a way to change his life. He gets his chance when employee Step (Clifton Collins) loses a testicle in an industrial accident. Con artist Cindy (Mila Kunis) smells a lawsuit and sets herself up for a scam, catching Joel’s eye in the process. To rid himself of the guilt he would feel in pursuing her, Joel follows the advice of his friend Dean (Ben Affleck) and hires a pool boy (Dustin Milligan) to seduce his wife (Kristen Wiig).

It’s been more than a decade since Mike Judge shook up the white collar world with Office Space. He’s largely flown under the radar (2006’s Idiocracy never got a theatrical release) since then, but another workplace setting was bound to generate some buzz and invite some comparisons. It the case of Extract, these comparisons threaten to turn a perfectly watchable comedy into a dreadfully disappointing follow-up.

Extract is no Office Space. Though they share a writer/director (Judge), plot elements (a scam, pursuit of a dream girl), and a common theme (work sucks), it would do neither film justice to view Extract as an informal sequel. Not only does the newer film fail to measure up (less memorable characters, fewer laugh-out-loud lines), but the two films seem to be doing different things. Office Space was steeped in zeitgeist. Without the Y2K panic and the tech bubble, it couldn’t exist. Factory unrest, on the other hand, has more of a timeless quality. Further, the workplace is incidental to Extract. The movie is really about Joel’s lack of fulfillment and it would be much the same if he worked on a farm or at a car dealership.

Take away the comparisons and what you are left with is a serviceable, albeit conventional film. Bateman makes Joel likeable even when he’s doing dislikable things, and his attempts at rage and frustration are pretty amusing. The usually amusing Wiig plays it disappointingly straight as wife Suzie and Kunis continues to prove she isn’t much of an actress, but there are some good performances in minor roles. J.K. Simmons is delightfully dismissive as Joel’s factory cohort, while Beth Grant steals all her scenes as a lazy, racist, condescending, dim-witted employee. Don’t miss Gene Simmons as a money-hungry personal injury lawyer.

In a world where Office Space never existed, Extract would still probably be a letdown because it does not make full use of the talent involved. Nevertheless, it offers up a down-to-earth, if uneven and somewhat forgettable, of people behaving badly.

7/10

Murder by Death

2010-07-18T14:19:00.001-04:00

Lured to the mansion of reclusive billionaire Lionel Twain (Truman Capote), the world’s greatest detectives assemble to dine and solve a mystery. They include wily Chinese Inspector Sidney Wang (Peter Sellers, parodying Charlie Chan), refined British couple Dick and Dora Charleston (David Niven and Maggie Smith, parodying Nick and Nora Charles), food-loving Belgian Milo Perrier (James Coco, parodying Hercule Poirot), hard-boiled San Francisco P.I. Sam Diamond (Peter Falk, parodying Sam Spade), and Englishwoman Jessica Marbles (Elsa Lancaster, parodying Miss Marple). Once the group is assembled, Twain reveals that a murder will occur at midnight and one million dollars will be awarded to whoever is able to solve it.

It’s hard to believe now that hordes of Scary Movie sequels and imitators have ruined their good name, but parody films were once both entertaining and respectable. Released in 1976, Murder by Death ranks alongside Airplane as the best of them. Directed by Robert Moore and penned by Neil Simon, this pastiche of Agatha Christie and Dashiell Hammett sends up literary and cinematic detectives with humor and style to spare.

The film boasts an impressive cast. In addition to the leads, a pre-Star Wars Alec Guinness serves as Twain’s blind butler, a debuting James Cromwell plays Perrier’s beleaguered chauffer, and Eileen Brennan is Diamond’s flirty secretary. Nobody is slumming here. Falk does hardboiled deadpan to perfection, waving a gun around, accusing everyone in sight of scandalous misdeeds and reaching obvious conclusions with gusto. Sellers gives his Asian stereotype character some sly wit, and frequently draws Twain’s ire for his refusal to use pronouns.
With lines like “One of us will be one million dollars richer, and one of us will be going to the gas chamber...to be hung!” the overall dialogue is some of the funniest ever crafted. It’s also a testament to everyone involved that the laughs increase as the plot becomes more twisted and convoluted.

The one strike against Murder by Death is its muddled letdown of an ending, the ambiguity of which the film itself acknowledges. Simon is clearly trying to make a statement about the genre he’s lampooning, but the negationism he displays here feels cheap and unsatisfying.

Fearlessly irreverent, deviously self-referential, and shamelessly over-the-top, Murder by Death walks the line between clever and stupid with a circus performer’s skill. When all is said and done and the body count totaled, the only true casualty is likely to be your boredom.

8/10

Twilight

2010-07-13T14:39:00.000-04:00

In rural 1950s Tennessee, teenagers Kenneth and Corrie Tyler suspect their late bootlegger father didn’t receive a proper burial. After digging up his and other graves, they discover that well-to-do undertaker Fenton Breece has been defiling the dead. Armed with incriminating photos, they intend to blackmail him and ruin his reputation. Breece in turn hires Granville Sutter, a cunning, ill-tempered murderer, to recover the evidence. What follows is a cat-and-mouse chase through the barren backwoods.

About the worst that can be said for Twilight is that it has the misfortune of sharing its title with a series of poorly crafted vampire novels. But unlike Stephenie Meyer, William gay can actually write. His florid, intricate descriptions juxtaposed against plainspoken, quoteless dialogue call to mind Cormac McCarthy, but Gay is more innovator than imitator. Who else would be boldly transgressive enough to present a place where necrophiliacs and maniac killers are accepted as a matter of course?

Oozing with sinister tension, Twilight moves at a swift pace and builds character development along the way. Kenneth’s reluctance and fear make him a believable hero, while Breece is given a comic baffoonish quality to complement his depraved habits. The real star here though is Sutter. Like a white-trash Anton Chigurh, Sutter is self-aware, deceptively intelligent, and ruthlessly determined. One of the book’s more chilling moments occurs when he addresses a woman with a still-living husband as “widow Conkle,” knowing full well what he’ll do and how he’ll get away with it.

An unapologetically dark book, Twilight will alienate some with its cryptic downer of an ending. It remains, however, a well-crafted study of desperation and resolve, of Southern Gothic bogeymen and the decent folk who dare to defy them.

8.5/10

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

2010-07-11T22:32:00.000-04:00

Thirty-six years after the disappearance of his grand-niece, elderly Swedish industrialist Henrik Vanger hires disgraced financial reporter Mikael Blomkvist to solve the mystery under the guise of writing a family history. Blomkvist is investigated – and later assisted – by Lisbeth Salander, an enigmatic young computer hacker. The more the Blomkvist uncovers, the more danger his discoveries put him in.

Published posthumously and now adapted into a movie, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo couldn’t have asked for a bigger profile. There’s a lot that can be said about it, good and bad, which already gives it a one-up on some titles topping the best-sellers lists.

First, the good: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo has an engrossing central mystery and a number of tantalizing tangents (Blomkvist’s love life, Salander’s shady past, Swedish corporate malfeasance, etc.) that give it some breadth. The late author Steig Larsson was a political reporter and his adroitness as a researcher is evident here. The book has a tight chronology and a keen sense of verisimilitude with regard to contemporary Sweden.

While all this suggests Larsson was probably terrific as a nonfiction author, his debut mystery reveals him to be somewhat inept as a novelist. Structurally, this is a mess. The pacing is uneven, the point-of-view occasionally undergoes radical shifts, and the Salander thread is utilized inconsistently throughout. Instead of alternating Blomquvist and Salander chapters, she will disappear from the action for good-sized chunks of the novel, relegating her to the status of a secondary character despite her importance to both the plot and title.

Characterization on the whole is problematic. Blomkvist is neither unbelievable nor unsympathetic, but he comes off as too much of a Mary Sue (or would that be Marty Stungren, in this case), a blatant stand-in for the author. Salander is considerably less believable, and despite her evocative, contradictory nature, not as complex as she should be. She’s the Damaged Girl, through and through. The rest of the cast ranges from one-dimensional pastiches of the spoiled rich to genuinely compelling characters, such as Blomkvist’s beleaguered colleague/friend/lover.

The writing is similarly a mixed bag. There are some nice descriptions of the icy countryside, but plenty of placed where the prose felt stale. As this is an English adaptation of a Swedish book, it’s hard to tell what got lost in translation.

At 460 pages, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo isn’t a huge tome, but it often feels bloated. It’s talky, we get more Vanger family history and Swedish economic miscellanea than we really need to know, and there are too many character names to keep track of. All of this could be taken as Larsson shoring up his foundation, but it really detracts from the tension.

Lastly, Larsson’s anti-capitalist, anti-religious views cast a big shadow on the book. That wouldn’t be such a problem if they didn’t push plot developments into questionable directions. Larsson's determination to "get the bad guy" seems overly contrived in several instances.

For the most part, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is entertaining reading. It’s refreshing to see a mystery that doesn’t take place in some dense urban landscape populated by characters cut from the same hard-boiled cloth (amusingly, Blomkvist reads a number of mysteries throughout the book). And as a debut novel, it shows a lot of promise. However, the aforementioned technical deficiencies are impossible to ignore. It’s a shame Larsson didn’t live long enough to follow his Millennium Trilogy up with more polished and tightly constructed efforts. As such, we’re left with an occasionally enthralling, occasionally infuriating mess of a mystery tinged with fascinating sociopolitical overtones.

6.75/10

Ed Wood

2010-07-06T14:24:00.000-04:00

In the 1950s, would-be filmmaker Edward D. Wood Jr. (Johnny Depp) struggles to make a name for himself despite a lack of any discernable talent. A transvestite, Wood ends up making a series of deeply personal low-budget films which are released to widespread critical disdain. Along the way, he befriends and recruits aging horror actor Bela Lugosi (Martin Landau), freakish wrestler Tor Johnson (George “The Animal” Steele) and other outcasts, alienating himself from women, financial backers, and society in the process.

Directed by Tim Burton, Ed Wood is an A-list treatment of a Z-list icon. As a biopic, it plays fast and loose with the facts – children and spouses are omitted, an encounter between Wood and Orson Welles is fabricated, etc. But as a tribute, this is spot-on. Filmed in black and white, the movie opens with a dramatic introduction in Wood’s own schlocky style. The filmmaker’s “rise” is covered, up to and including the production of his “masterpiece,” Plan 9 From Outer Space (often cited as the worst film ever made). This would be a fall from grace in another kind of film, but it’s strangely endearing to watch Wood and Co. triumph in spite of their incompetence.

The biggest payoff here is the discrepancy between what’s happening on the screen and what we as viewers know to be true. Wood’s movies may be trash, but in his eyes, they’re art. That kind of irony requires the cast to not only give convincing performances, but to do so with a straight face. Fortunately, they are up to the task. Depp imbues Wood with relentless, oblivious, never-say-die optimism. He’s counterbalanced by an Oscar-winning Landau, whose Lugosi is drug-addled and well past his prime but still full of gravitas. Sarah Jessica Parker, Jeffrey Jones, Patricia Arquette, and Bill Murray (in a quick appearance as a drag queen) round out this freak show.

Through an unapologetically glib and personal treatment, Ed Wood’s idiosyncratic approach to biography reveals more – good and bad – about its subject than a more straightforward or “neutral” approach ever would. That it’s often hilarious is an added bonus.

8/10

Stone Temple Pilots

2010-07-03T20:59:00.000-04:00

This 2010 eponymous release is the hard rock band’s first in nearly a decade. Between Scott Weiland’s drug problems, arrests, and the formation of Velvet Revolver, it’s an unlikely comeback, though “triumphant return” would be greatly overstating the case.

Even in their 1990s heyday, Stone Temple Pilots played second fiddle to the bands they imitated (Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, etc.). This isn’t to say that STP is to grunge what Great White is to Led Zeppelin, but rather that for as good as they played on “Plush” and “Sex Type Thing,” no one would confuse them for innovators. That’s as true of the band now as it was 15 years ago. The new album is energetic and features a number of catchy songs. “Between the Lines” seems destined for heavy radio airplay, though the thumping, hard-charging “Huckleberry Crumble” may be the album’s standout piece. In stark contrast to a number of other disappointing “reunion” albums, it’s clear that the time apart hasn’t diminished the band’s skills.

Unfortunately, there’s little here that’s transcendent. Dean DeLeo is a competent guitarist, albeit not a very imaginative one, and Weiland’s voice begins to grow tiresome after repeated listening. Though there’s credit to be given for sonic diversity, the album’s shift toward tripped-out pop about midway through sounds like a loss of momentum. Lyrically, there are some real duds. Weiland’s revelation on “Between the Lines” - “You always were my favorite drug/even when we used to take drugs” - isn’t exactly a James Hetfield/confront-the-demons moment and “Dare to dare if you dare” practically writes its own jokes.

Rampant mediocrity aside, Stone Temple Pilots is worth a listen for several reasons: it’s not actively terrible, it’ll give you hope that your favorite defunct band may one day reunite and return to form (I’m looking at you, SOAD), and it’s imitative tendencies could turn you on to the music of better bands that it borrowed from.

7/10

Blockade Billy

2010-07-03T20:30:00.000-04:00

Interviewed by the author, retired baseball coach George “Granny” Grantham wearily discusses a crazy season some 50-plus years ago. Beset by injuries, his team turns to unknown and unheralded William “Blockade Billy” Blakely. Blakely’s unexpected success turns the team around, but the seemingly simple-minded catcher’s checkered past threatens to get the entire season erased from the record books.

That Stephen King wrote a baseball novella shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Baseball figured heavily in The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, and he previously co-authored a nonfiction book on the 2004 Red Sox World Series run. What is surprising is how ordinary this treatment is. Even when King steers clear of the supernatural and extradimensional, he has a tendency to ratchet up the stakes so that everything is a matter of life and death, good and evil, hope and despair. Not so with Blockade Billy. While not void of greater thematical significance (this manages to hit some dark and desperate notes, after all), this is a baseball story first, pure and simple. King’s approach to the subject matter is nostalgic to the point of corny, but the author’s legitimate passion is admirably and convincingly conveyed.

Like much of King’s work, Blockade Billy is a page-turner. The storytelling is engrossing, the plot advances quickly, and there’s a legitimately unforeseen (perhaps too unforeseen) twist toward the end. And while this makes for quality entertainment, it doesn’t nearly mask the book’s technical deficiencies. Aside from Granny and Billy, most of the characters are either overly familiar or paper-thin. The team’s ace pitcher, for instance, is a hard-drinking womanizer right out of central casting. The writing is also less than stellar, as much a product of King’s laziness as it is of Granny’s hokey narration.

Blockade Billy is a quick, fun read that will please baseball fans and intrigue King fans, but like a late-innings error in an early-season game, it doesn’t make much of an impact in the grand scheme of things.

7.25/10

The Shooting

2010-06-27T19:53:00.000-04:00

Upon his return to an Old West mining camp, ex-bounty hunter Gashade (Warren Oates) learns from his dim-witted friend Coley (Will Hutchins) that his brother has been implicated in a murder. The two are then hired by a mysterious young woman (Millie Perkins) to lead her to a town called Kingsley. Along the way, they are joined by Spear (Jack Nicholson), an ominous hired gun. As water and horses run low, mistrust grows among the reluctant traveling companions.

Produced by Nicholson, written by Carole Eastman, and directed by Monte Hellman, The Shooting is a gem of a low-budget Western that nearly never got made. Oates’ clashes with Nicholson and Hellman, Nicholson’s insistence on sticking to a $75,000 budget, and an inability to find a distributor almost doomed this project to the status of “might have been.” Fortunately, like other chaotic, free-wheeling productions of the 1960s, it came together and defied expectations.

To start with, The Shooting is incredibly tense. The pace is slow, but the repetitive, Hitchcockian score and the rugged desert landscapes create an almost palpable sense of mounting suspense and paranoia from start to finish. This is the kind of movie where the viewer feels like anything could happen.

Though dialogue is minimal, the cast is more than game. Oates is in good ornery form as Gashade and a young Nicholson is downright creepy as Spear. Perkins – Hellman’s next door neighbor – portrays the unnamed woman with an air of haughty determination, while Hutchins gives Coley a nervous, wide-eyed energy.

All of these elements very nearly compensate for the fact that the film has virtually no plot in the traditional sense. The backstory is hazy at best and what happens on screen is frequently left unexplained. The sense of mystery obviously heightens the drama, but not knowing the where and the why of the journey will leave some viewers all too conscious of the fact that they are being manipulated. Additionally, the ending offers an interesting twist, but some will undoubtedly think a bigger payoff is in order.

Often cited as the first Acid Western, The Shooting is a tense, sparse, difficult slice of existential filmmaking rendered all the more impressive by the challenges behind its creation.

7.75/10

Heartbreak Ridge

2010-06-20T21:32:00.000-04:00

Gny. Sgt. Tom Highway (Clint Eastwood) is a highly decorated but chronically insubordinate Marine nearing retirement age. He is sent back to his old stomping grounds to train a group of ragtag Marines in preparation for the invasion of Grenada. Neither his charges, his inexperienced commanding officers or his ex-wife (Marsha Mason) expect him to succeed, but Highway is determined not to quit.

Named for a Korean War battle, the film’s title pulls double duty as Highway tries to get his ex back. Eastwood’s in good form as the tough, hard-drinking Gunny, but the material and supporting cast are beneath him. Mason does her fair share of pushing away before inevitably giving in and Everett McGill is one dimensional as an antagonistic, by-the-book major. Mario Van Peebles at least livens things up as a corporal who moonlights as a rock musician, but he’s hard to take seriously as a fighting man.

The film’s whole problem is one of tone. For the first two thirds of the film, Highway’s Recon Marines are depicted as rejects and losers (who the veteran sergeant will turn around using some unorthodox methods, of course). As a comedy in the Major League/Bad News Bears vein, this would have been derivative and a bit tasteless, but it might have worked. Instead, the film does away with all notions of farce by launching into full-scale combat during the final third. Despite being written by a Vietnam vet and loosely inspired by true events, the war scenes felt preposterous and cartoonish. Amid heavy gunfire and tank, only one friendly bites the dust and you know it’s not going to be Clint.

As mindless entertainment, Heartbreak Ridge delivers with its sense of fun intact. But as a war film, it makes a mockery of our armed forces and falls incredibly flat. The fault doesn’t lie with Eastwood, but even he’s not a miracle worker.

6.25/10

Lonely Hearts

2010-06-20T21:28:00.000-04:00

In the late 1940s, Detectives Robinson (John Travolta) and Hildebrandt (James Gandolfini) are hot on the trail of the Lonely Hearts Killers, Raymond Fernandez (Jared Leto) and Martha Beck (Salma Hayek), a twisted couple that finds victims through personal ads and murders them for their money.

Written and directed by Todd Robinson (the grandson of Travolta’s character), Lonely Hearts is a fascinating look at obsession. Haunted by the unexplained suicide of his late wife, Detective Robinson is as compelled to find and stop Fernandez and Beck as they are to keep swindling and killing to preserve their life together. These thematically loaded parallels, coupled with director Robinson’s commendable effort to flesh out every character, raises the film above the level of bland biopic or exploitative ripped-from-the-headlines thriller. Throw in some genuinely tense moments (beware the Se7en-esque sequence involving a bicycle box) and a solid period feel and it becomes hard to see why this didn’t get more notice upon its release in 2006.

The acting is certainly not the culprit. Travolta, whose roles have been almost unwatchably bombastic and smarmy in recent years, offers a powerful, controlled performance. He is nearly eclipsed by an almost unrecognizable Leto, who goes over-the-top at times, but otherwise manages an effectively conflicted portrayal of a delusional lowlife striving for something better. Gandolfini is so-so as Robinson’s sidekick, while Laura Dern makes the most of a thankless role as his mistress. The only real liability here is Hayek, who is badly miscast. She does the femme fatale routine to a T; problem is, the real Martha Beck was obese, homely, and a much more pathetic figure.

The film’s other major demerit is Gandolfini’s voiceover narration. Though he’s the one doing the talking, we learn relatively little about him compared to his favored subjects (Robinson, Martha, and Ray). His narration also contributes to the film’s somewhat haphazard sense of time. There is a lot of movement here, and it’s tough to figure out how far apart one killing is from the next.

Just as Fernandez and Beck are not household names, Lonely Hearts does not make nearly as big a splash as Zodiac or Changeling, two other period films dealing with brutal murders. It does, however, merit a viewing, if for no other reason than to see its evolution from personal family history into near-art.

7.5/10

The Question of Bruno

2010-06-16T15:35:00.000-04:00

This debut short story collection from Aleksandar Hemon blends fact and fiction as the Bosnian-born Chicago author tackles subjects as diverse as war and genocide, family history, espionage, relationships, and the immigrant experience.

It’s tough to evaluate a body of work whose parts are so formally disparate yet so thematically intertwined. With The Question of Bruno, Hemon doesn’t merely think outside the box, he obliterates it. The first story, “Islands,” is a series of brief, numbered chapterlets detailing an uncle’s struggle with Soviet oppression. Contrast that with “The Life and Work of Alphonse Cauders,” a fictional biography of a horny misanthrope which hilariously reads like an Eastern European version of Chuck Norris Facts. Contrast both to the heavily annotated “The Sorge Spy Ring,” which examines the genesis of a Soviet secret agent, and “Blind Jozef Pronek and Dead Souls,” a refugee’s take on 90s America.

Hemon is all over the place here, but his stories work in concert to tell a tale of suffering with only a whiff of redemption. Years of Old World torment are swept away in favor of New World alienation, and we are left wondering who had it worse: Uncle Julius in the Soviet gulags or Jozef Pronek, lost in the dead-end jobs of America?

If there is one drawback here, it is that the historical context – which often forms great parallels and contrasts between the personal stories being told – is ladled on too dense at times. The excessive footnoting which accompanied “The Sorge Spy Ring” was more of a distraction than a true companion story/reading aid.

That caveat aside, Hemon’s conviction, narrative sense, and technical proficiency make The Question of Bruno unforgettable, if uneven. A lot of authors use literary gimmickry to mask the fact that they have nothing to say. Here’s one who has plenty to say and whose experimentation with form ultimately ensures that the message comes across louder.

8/10

Tex & Shirley's Family Restaurant

2010-06-16T15:12:00.000-04:00

In business since 1972, Tex & Shirley’s has locations at 708 Pembroke Road in Greensboro (the Friendly Center) and 4005 Precision Way in High Point. The menu features Southern-influenced American fare, such as sandwiches, ham steaks, and chicken platters. Breakfast is available all day, and specials change daily.

“Family Restaurant” suggests a focus on congeniality over food, and at Tex & Shirley’s, the suggestion is all too apt. Though the all-day breakfast is a nice touch, the non-breakfast options leave a lot to be desired in terms of quality and variety. A fried oyster sandwich was merely so-so, and the accompanying fries looked like they came out of a bag. On the plus side, everything on the menu runs reasonable-to-cheap. A sandwich, fries, and a drink can be had for under $7.

The Friendly Center location has a wooden interior with lots of space and little liveliness. On average, the crowd here leans toward geriatric – this is the kind of place you frequent if you want to take your grandmother to breakfast. Servers are polite, but not overly swift, even when the place isn’t packed (and at lunch, it isn’t likely to be).

Tex & Shirley’s seems like a perfectly passable option if your culinary wants are simple and you don’t feel like spending much money. If you’re looking for a good meal, however, your better served elsewhere.

5.5/10

Known to Evil

2010-06-13T17:41:00.001-04:00

In this follow-up to The Long Fall, underworld fixer turned legit P.I. Leonid McGill is trying to keep his family together and put his past behind him. That all changes when powerful political operator Alphonse Rinaldo hires him to locate a missing woman. It isn’t long before McGill runs afoul of contract killers and the police, not to mention a Romanian pimp who is threatening his son.

At his best, Walter Mosley is a modern-day Raymond Chandler with a great ear for dialogue and a socially conscious edge. At his worst, he is a repetitive, ham-handed polemicist. Fortunately, like the book that it follows, Known to Evil captures more of the former than the latter.

This is a book that succeeds on the strength of its characters, and McGill is one hell of an interesting protagonist. A short, middle-aged Communist’s son, he carries with him both heavy guilt for his past misdeeds and the force of will needed to keep his head above water in increasingly dangerous environments. He is both iron and glass, rolled into one. Though there is a seeming surplus of secondary characters, very few of them bleed together. The retired assassin Hush, compassionate cop Bonilla, surveillance expert Bug, and scheming son Twill all stand out as people, rather than types.

Known to Evil moves at a quick pace, but Mosley still finds plenty of room to incorporate back story and asides about the nature of McGill’s corruption-tainted world. Like any good mystery, the more information that is provided to the reader, the more questions that are raised.

If there is one fatal flaw to this book, it is the tremendously disappointing ending. A wrap-up in every sense of the word, it is one of the weakest I’ve encountered in recent memory. The last chapter in particular is heavily summarized and glossed over. Had Mosley taken the time to handle this properly, he could have generated a ton of interest for the next McGill book. Instead, his quick fix leaves the reader feeling shortchanged.

That aside, Known to Evil makes for a decent read. Traditional enough to satisfy most mystery fans, it also makes good use of a New York setting without feeling stale. A lack of depth, abetted by the lackluster conclusion, means this probably won’t resonate very deeply, but at least you won’t feel like you’ve read it all before.

7.25/10

The A-Team

2010-06-13T14:27:00.000-04:00

In Mexico, a group of veteran Army rangers come together to thwart a corrupt general. Led by the wily, cigar-chomping Col. Hannibal Smith (Liam Neeson), the team includes ladies’ man Lt. “Face” Peck (Bradley Cooper), tough mechanic Cpl. B.A. Baracus (Quinton “Rampage” Jackson) and possibly insane helicopter pilot Cpt. H.M. Murdock (Sharlto Copley). Eight years later in Iraq, the A-Team is hired by CIA Agent Lynch (Patrick Wilson) to recover some valuable printing plates. When the mission goes wrong, the team becomes a group of fugitives fighting to clear their name.

A staple of my childhood, The A-Team television series left me with fond memories of bullets that didn’t actually hit anyone, Mr. T calling people “fool,” and a souped-up van. When I saw the trailer for the film remake, my first two thoughts were “You’re kidding?!” and “This is going to suck.” Because I am a sucker for nostalgia, I went to see it anyway, expecting, at best, some decent entertainment.

On that level, The A-Team delivered...and then some. Unlike last year’s insipid G.I. Joe remake, The A-Team kept its sense of fun intact. B.A.’s fear of flying is played up for comic relief, and Murdock’s oddball shtick is entertaining more times than not. In addition, Joe Carnahan is a competent action director. His kinetic staging of certain sequences (i.e. a tank falling from the sky) allow for suspension of disbelief.

Make no mistake about it though: this is a dumb movie. The convoluted plot pits the team against, at various times, Mexicans, Iraqis, a Blackwater knock-off, the CIA, and the U.S. Army, all without skipping a beat. Attempts at imbuing a message – what is the cost of violence? – are laughably mishandled.

The acting is tougher to evaluate. Any time someone walks into a role someone else made famous, there is going to be criticism of the replacement. On the whole, Neeson, Cooper, Jackson and Copley do an admirable job of filling in for George Peppard, Dirk Benedict, Mr. T and Dwight Schultz. The non-actor Jackson in particular had some big shoes to fill and exceeded expectations. However, the vain and arrogant Cooper is pressed awkwardly into a leading role, Jessica Biel is only so-so as his Army officer love interest, and Wilson is too smarmy to be a really effective antagonist.

Certainly, the cinematic A-Team is more violent and harder-edged than its television counterpart. And while this will upset purists, the spirit of the original – dumb, loud, likeable, vapid and fun – is nevertheless alive and well.

6.5/10

The Quiet American

2010-06-09T17:38:00.000-04:00

Thomas Fowler is a jaded, bitter, atheistic middle-aged English journalist covering the First Indochina War. Though married, Fowler has taken beautiful, sheltered 20-year-old Phuong as his lover. Enter Alden Pyle, a young, well-educated, soft-spoken American official. Despite their mutual admiration, it isn’t long before Pyle’s idealism (he believes a Third Force can emerge apart from the French colonialists and the Vietnamese Communists) and interest in Phuong divide them.

A former British spy with leftist political leanings and Catholic convictions, Graham Greene is as an interesting choice as one could fathom to write about the then-brewing trouble in Vietnam. His treatment of the subject was widely attacked as being anti-American, but the truth is that the only agenda displayed here by Greene (or his mouthpiece, Fowler) is one of relentless cynicism. Colonialism, revolution, and the vaunted middle path are all constructed as ideas which, by the end of the day, leave little but failure and bloodshed. Greene was remarkably prescient in that regard.

Remove the political considerations and The Quiet American still stands out as an impressive piece of literature because of Greene’s sharply drawn characters. Fowler at once fills the roles of both narrator and antagonist. It’s an astonishing feat that a story told through the eyes of a selfish, lazy, scheming philanderer remains so compelling, especially given the dearth of likeable characters here. Certainly, one can’t lionize Pyle, whose idealism is equal parts destructive and self-serving, nor can anyone find much to like about the deliberately underdeveloped Phuong or her domineering sister. The closest we get to a hero here is Vigot, the French police inspector who hasn’t let his weariness destroy his sense of duty.

Amid this jumble of misanthropy, Greene finds ample time to take us in-country and explore the geography. From salacious nightclubs to war-torn battle zones, the calamity of 1950s Vietnam is rendered well, if a bit too succinctly at times. A pivotal bombing scene, for example, would have been more effective if we were more fully immersed in the surroundings.

The Quiet American is a direct novel. It gets at the Big Issues of love, war, politics, faith and betrayal without ingenuity or coyness. Some may find this earnestness disarming or mistake the candidness for laziness on the author’s part. But what separates The Quiet American from lackluster political theatre is a very moving human story at the core.

8/10

Nowhere Man

2010-06-07T14:02:00.000-04:00

The second book from Aleksandar Hemon is a collection of semi-autobiographical vignettes starring Blind Jozef Pronek, who featured previously in an eponymous short story. A Bosnian of Ukrainian descent, Pronek wanders through life as a failed blues musician, an incompetent soldier, a would-be detective and a reluctant Greenpeace volunteer. Along the way, he witnesses the collapse of the Soviet Union and enters suburban Chicago society.

Though frequently compared to Nabokov and Joseph Conrad, the author Hemon most closely evokes here is Ralph Ellison. Like the narrator of Invisible Man, Pronek functions as a virtual blank slate for characters to project their assumptions about foreigners, war and religion. Pronek’s attempts to assert his own identity are consistently ignored, right up until the book’s vaguely horrific climax.

Pronek is more than just a political statement, however. Hemon fleshes him out while keeping an air of mystery around him. Pronek’s love of The Beatles gives the book its title, while his poor grasp of English makes for some often-hilarious dialogue. It’s worth noting that the author’s command of the language is as masterful as the character’s is shoddy.

The episodic quality of Nowhere Man makes it difficult to follow as a linear narrative and some sections evoke a disjointed, dreamlike quality. The final section in particular is disconnected plot wise from everything else in the book, though the strong thematic connection more than justifies its inclusion. The frequent point-of-view shifts, on the other hand, can bring reading to a standstill while you wonder where a given part of the story is coming from.

On the whole, Nowhere Man is funny, tragic, fluid, and well worth reading. At less than 250 pages, it lacks the heft and expansiveness of a great literary tome, but Hemon still displays gifts that more verbose writers could only hope to borrow one day.

8.25/10

Under the Dome

2010-06-02T16:58:00.000-04:00

When a mysterious indestructible dome surrounds the small town of Chester’s Mill, Maine, a panic ensues. As the death toll rises and misfortunes multiply, the townsfolk increasingly divide their loyalties between Big Jim Rennie, a powerful local politician determined to keep order at all costs, and Dale Barbara, an Army veteran turned fry cook who has been recommissioned to find whatever is powering the dome and shut it down from the inside.

The latest from Stephen King is old hat for the veteran horror writer. He previously explored apocalyptic scenarios and small-town dynamics in works such as Cell, The Stand, and Needful Things. However, Under the Dome is no From a Buick 8 struggling to regain the glory of a prior Christine. This book is not only contemporary (President Obama is mentioned by name), but relevant as well. The incorporation of changing technologies, mistrust of government, and war-weariness into Chester’s Mill’s plight shows that King is very much in-sync with the problems and attitudes of today. Whether this will seem dated and inaccessible in 20 years is anyone’s guess.

At nearly 1100 pages, Under the Dome is not a light read. It is, however, a lean one. King’s pacing is excellent, as he continues to draw interest and build tension hundreds of pages in. There is very little here that felt superfluous or bloated.

Where this book falls short of greatness is in its characterization. On a macro level, King nails it. He employs his usual gift for Maine settings to construct The Mill as a fully realized place. As such, his characters, from Julia Shumway, the annoyingly persistent newspaperwoman to Peter Randolph, the dimwitted bureaucrat of a police chief, are wholly believable as representatives of that place. Taken as individual actors, however, they often falter. Rennie, for example, comes across as a Palpatine-type who has been waiting for an opportunity all along, while meth-addled Phil Bushey can be seen as his counterpart: a bad man waiting to do some good. By having these folks fit so neatly and transparently into the roles of savior, nemesis, etc., King deemphasizes the role that tragedy can have on a relatively normal human being.

Of course, this isn’t the only qualm. The language is slack in places, the feel-good ending felt clumsily executed, and we are transported to the point of view of a dog at one point. These are forgivable transgressions, given the length and scope of the novel, but they do tend to sap Under the Dome of its “epic” pretensions.

For King fans, Under the Dome is a difficult book to evaluate. Though full of completely new material, it is based on a concept King has attempted on and off since the 1970s. It reads neither like vintage King nor like a poor imitation/parody of his prior work. The best way to take it is probably to avoid comparisons and enjoy it for what it is: a compelling, vivid, flawed, politically astute, sometimes simplistic page-turner.

7.5/10

Iron Man 2

2010-05-14T11:24:00.000-04:00

In the aftermath of revealing himself to be the armored superhero Iron Man, billionaire industrialist Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) must contend with failing health, a tumultuous relationship with his former secretary Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), a senator (Gary Shandling) who wants to expropriate his technology for military use, scheming competitor Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) and Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke), a renegade Russian scientist bent on revenge.

Superhero sequels are a decidedly mixed bag. For every The Dark Knight that takes elements introduced in the original to new heights, there’s an X-Men: The Last Stand that threatens to murder an entire film franchise with its mediocrity. Iron Man 2 falls somewhere in between. Given the surprising success of the original, it was almost inevitable that there would be a drop-off the second time around. Fortunately, the decline is not too precipitous.

Helmed again by Jon Favreau (who co-stars as bodyguard Happy Hogan), Iron Man 2 preserves the first film’s humor and sense of fun. Justin Theroux’s script is full of snappy banter and laugh-inducing lines (Hammer refers to one of his munitions as being so smart that “it makes Ulysses look like it was written in crayon”), but this is no Fantastic Four. Stark is grappling with serious reservations regarding his limitations and legacy and there are plenty of well-rendered combat sequences. Iron Man does more than just fly around and shoot lasers this time.

The acting varies in quality. Downey is brilliant once again and fully inhabits the irrepressible nutcase that is Stark. Paltrow, Favreau and Samuel L. Jackson (as SHIELD director Nick Fury) make the most of their expanded roles. Perhaps the most pleasant surprise is Scarlett Johansson, who doesn’t kill the film with her reliably poor acting ability. As Natasha Romanov, a SHIELD agent undercover as Stark’s secretary, all she’s asked to do is kick ass, look good and drop the occasional line of Latin. She does all three well.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Don Cheadle is completely miscast as Lt. Col. James Rhodes, Stark’s close ally. While Cheadle is a better actor than the man he replaced in the role (Terrance Howard, who’s no slouch), his performance seemed wooden and forced. And while Rockwell gets some good lines, his bombastic shtick wears thin after awhile. The hardest performance to decipher is Rourke’s. It’s evident that he’s trying hard and he does give Vanko some idiosyncratic flair (gold teeth, a fondness for birds), but the character ultimately comes across as more ridiculous than menacing at times.

Though the recent spate of Marvel Comics films show above-average character development, they are still, primarily, action movies. As such, nobody is expecting wholly believable plot development. But even for this genre, Iron Man 2 strains credulity. Rhodes’ theft of Stark’s armor and subsequent transformation into War Machine happened in little more than a blink, while Hammer’s implicit trust in the unhinged Vanko left me shaking my head.

It’s probably fair to say that Iron Man 2 bites off a little more than it can chew. Minus the illogical plotting and creeping character bloat, however, it remains an entertaining and solidly crafted film. It will be interesting to see what’s next (The Avengers, most likely) for this cast and crew.

7.5/10

Bloviation Nation

2010-05-08T18:43:00.000-04:00

As some of you may know, I have begun a new project, Bloviation Nation. Whereas Zac Rates the Universe is a reflection of my own tastes, Bloviation Nation will serve as an online review resource for anyone anywhere. In other words, I won't be the only one rating the universe. :P

I intend to still maintain this blog and will contribute Zac Rates the Universe Reviews to Bloviation Nation, albeit with some modifications to meet the new site's criteria. If you've liked what you've read here and have agreed or disagreed strongly with anything I have said, I urge you to go to Bloviation Nation and let your own voice be heard.

El Mariachi Mexican Restaurant

2010-05-08T13:09:00.000-04:00

Located at 4623 High Point Road, El Mariachi offers a wide variety of Mexican fare for breakfast, lunch and dinner. There is a full-service bar, daily specials, late-night karaoke and a live mariachi band on weekends.

Greensboro is home to many Mexican restaurants, but few distinguish themselves the way El Mariachi does. The menu, for instance, is far more expansive than you’ll find elsewhere and features all-day breakfast and lengua (beef tongue) as a taco filling. The quality varies – a generous portion of huevos con chorizo hit the spot, but authentic-style tongue tacos were surprisingly bland and one diner compared her meatball soup to a canned Campbell’s offering – though the variety is commendable. Go here enough times and you’re bound to find something you like.

For those who like theatricality with their food, the namesake band delivers with professionalism and poise. The mariachi combo takes requests and rotates from table to table, ensuring you won’t go deaf from an evening of sitting directly in front of the music.

Servers at El Mariachi are affable and knowledgeable about food and song alike and service on the whole is swift. One diner endured a short wait after part of her order was forgotten, but we were a large group. Pricing is plenty reasonable: a filling meal can be had for under $10, though seafood dishes and house specialties run higher.

With its festive atmosphere, good value and multitude of options, El Mariachi may offer the best all-around Mexican dining experience in Greensboro. El Azteca keeps the crown for best tacos in town, but if you’re looking for more than food, the High Point Road establishment is well worth your while.

8/10

Blood's a Rover

2010-05-02T21:00:00.000-04:00

The third novel in James Ellroy’s American Underworld trilogy opens in 1968 following the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy. Wayne Tedrow is a former cop with chemistry skills and a checkered past. He serves as liaison to both Howard Hughes and the mob and looks for ways to atone for his sins while facilitating a casino scheme in the Dominican Republic. Wayne is monitored by Dwight Holly, a big brother figure and an FBI enforcer. Holly must figure out ways to placate his increasingly senile boss, J. Edgar Hoover, as well as sustain a tenuous relationship with an informant, leftist professor Karen Sifakis. Donald Crutchfield, a young private eye/peeping Tom, crosses paths with both men and finds himself knee-deep in assassination plots and international intrigue. The specter of a years-old emerald heist hangs over everything and the key to both past and present plots may be a mysterious knife-scarred woman named Joan.

Weighing in at 650-plus pages, Blood’s a Rover is not a quick read. It will also prove a daunting one for those not already familiar with Ellroy’s trademark style (multiple alternating narrators, highly fragmented sentences, faux-document inserts between chapters). Ellroy fans, on the other hand, will be pleased to know that Blood’s a Rover picks up right where The Cold Six Thousand left off. Wayne Tedrow is back and the contradictions that defined the character the first time around (a conscience and a sense of social responsibility coupled with a willingness to carry out a sinister agenda and a penchant for brutal acts) are expanded upon here. In fact, all of the leads are complex, dynamic characters with motivations that change over the course of the text – a little too rapidly in some instances. While the book oozes zeitgeist, the spirit of the times isn’t always a sufficient rationale for dramatic ideological shifts.

In spite of its length, this book really moves. The emerald heist forms the book’s central mystery and while pieces of it are easy to figure out early on, the complete picture will elude you until the end. Along the way, Blood’s a Rover juts out in dozens of different directions. Haitian rituals, Dominican politics, a Hoover/Nixon rivalry and Sonny Liston’s drug addiction are among the secondary threads. In lesser hands, this would seem unwieldy. Ellroy, however, manages to pull everything together – not seamlessly, but certainly convincingly.

The most ingenious thing about Blood’s a Rover is the way the structure mirrors the action. Just as revolution and radical change influence the book’s plot, an abandonment of the rigid alternating narrators and the inclusion of new perspectives in the later sections alter the book’s shape. It’s chaotic, confusing and utterly brilliant. Only the final chapter, set in the present, feels gimmicky.

With a gargantuan scope and a who’s who of late 60s/early 70s historical figures in the mix, Blood’s a Rover never fails to stir interest. The only thing separating it from greatness is a tighter grip on the author’s part on the chaos he depicts.

7.75/10

Print Works Bistro

2010-04-25T16:40:00.000-04:00

Located at 702 Green Valley Road next to the Proximity Hotel, Print Works Bistro offers European-influenced fine dining. The bistro is open for breakfast, lunch and dinner and a brunch runs through 4 p.m. on weekends. Amenities include a full-service bar, outdoor seating and a private dining room. A buffet and live music are offered during special events.

Both Print Works and the adjacent Proximity pride themselves on being green and it shows. The inside of the restaurant is bright and airy thanks to light hues and abundant natural lighting. Hanging balls of foliage and a view of the gardens round out the earthy facade, but the real marvel is in what you don’t see – both the restaurant and hotel are powered by 100 rooftop solar panels and utilize energy saving technologies.

The emphasis on sustainability may put your conscience at ease, but it will do little to placate your stomach. Fortunately, the food is up to the task. A Spring brunch menu featured both dressed-up classics (Eggs Benedict with Black Forest Ham, Croque Madame on challah) and less traditional fare (black rice with leeks and Portobello mushrooms, confit duck hash with potatoes, poached eggs and hollandaise). The duck hash was a revelation – the meat was succulent without being overly fatty and the eggs were neither rubbery nor runny. The quiches (both Lorraine and a shrimp/crab combo were listed on the menu) drew plaudits for their buttery crust, while the Eggs Norweigan (poached over smoked salmon with hollandaise) was described, without excessive hyperbole, as “the best thing I’ve ever had.” One diner thought the breakfast sandwich would have been better-paired with a salad than potatoes, but none of the food missed the mark. Neither did a round of peppery, garnish-laden Bloody Marys, for that matter.

Of course, food of this quality doesn’t come cheap. Brunch entrees run from $10 to $15, which seems like a bargain until you realize that portions don’t run large and you may have just shelled out $10 for a cheeseburger or an order of French toast. On the other hand, Print Works is the kind of place you go to savor, not to fill up.

Service at Print Works was brisk and our server was affable. Though far from empty, the restaurant did not feel crowded – there was plenty of space between tables. Reservations are not required, but they are probably a wise bet if you are bringing a group.

Print Works may not be quite as inventive as its nearby sister restaurant (the similarly priced and similarly excellent Green Valley Grill), but it’s more inviting and a palate-pleaser through and through.

8.75/10

Boba House

2010-04-18T21:00:00.001-04:00

Located at 332 Tate Street, Boba House specializes in teas and vegetarian fare. The menu offers soups, salads, entrees and noodle dishes. Many selections can be prepared vegan. A selection of beer and wine is available and there is a different special for each day of the week.

“It doesn’t taste like meat.” Such was the verdict pronounced by a friend on Boba House’s tofu chicken and beef substitutes. It’s a valid point – for meat eaters, nothing compares to the real thing – but the faux flesh is an acquired taste rather than an inherently off-putting one.

Once you get past that, there’s a fair amount to like here. The Asian influenced menu offers everything from satay (not bad, but lacking in texture) to spring rolls (small and nothing special), but you’re better off trying something which won’t inevitably suffer in comparison (though the cheesecake can actually hold its own). Case in point: the mixed bowl, a vermicelli/vegetable stir fry with a tangy sauce and your choice of topping. The salads lean toward the exotic (avocado and calamari are among the options) and feature a complimentary blend of flavors. Whatever you get is likely to be good for you – or, at the very least, better for you than that burger or pizza you forsook by coming here.

Boba House is a small space, but not a cramped one. It’s rarely packed and bar seating ensures you won’t be waiting for a chair for long. The intimacy of the surroundings and a two-person weekend special make Boba House an attractive date destination, but you’re just as likely to run into families with little kids as you are college-aged couples.

Service is very prompt and the wait staff is personable, though you sometimes get the sense they are trying too hard to be outgoing. Pricing is plenty reasonable. Though the portions aren’t very large, just about everything on the menu runs under $10.

Better options exist for non-vegetarians, but Boba House still offers a healthy, affordable meal in a comfortable space. At the very least, it presents a compelling challenge to the notion that meatless cuisine is bland, boring or insubstantial.

7.25/10

Election

2010-04-18T19:44:00.001-04:00

Ambitious overachiever Tracy Flick (Reese Witherspoon) will stop at nothing to be elected student body president. She is opposed in her efforts by moralistic history teacher Jim McAllister (Matthew Broderick), who recruits Paul Metzler (Chris Klein), a popular and personable though completely oblivious, jock to oppose her. Things get complicated when Paul’s younger sister Tammy (Jessica Campbell) enters the race seeking revenge.

A dark comedy which is neither dark nor funny has little to recommend itself by. Unfortunately, this is the case with Alexander Payne’s 1999 adaptation of Tom Perrotta’s novel. To start with, the stakes are too low. Neither Flick’s ruthlessness nor McAllister’s vindictive countermeasures rise above the level of pranks, really. Plenty of films from the past decade (Donnie Darko, Brick, Assassination of a High School President, etc.) show that it’s possible to do something meaningful in a high school setting. Election ends up seeming petty in comparison.

In addition, the film is peppered with voiceover narration from several characters. This works well in spots – Paul’s failure to recognize that his girlfriend is using him, for instance – but it’s both overdone and largely ineffective. The potential for biting commentary and or/radical disconnect is squandered on too many “This is my life” moments.

Because of the comedic premise, the characters are deliberately drawn to type. Only McAllister seems really complex or conflicted, but he is rendered just as unsympathetically as the dumb jock and the conniving politician. That said, Election is well-cast and there is some quality acting here. The often-annoying Witherspoon shines as the relentlessly driven Tracy. Broderick, Klein and Campbell are convincing in their roles, limiting as they may be. Nobody is slacking here.

Election was undoubtedly intended as a commentary on the polarizing nature of American politics. A more trenchant commentary, however, can be found in the fact that 11 years after it’s release, it’s hard to find this movie clever or shocking.

6/10

Twilight

2010-04-15T22:39:00.000-04:00

Just kidding. I'm not going to read, let alone review, this monstrosity. However, if you would like an in-depth and often-hilarious examination of what makes Stephenie Meyer's vampire saga both so terrible and so compelling, please visit my friend Jen's blog, Why Does Twilight Work?

Lost in the Meritocracy: The Undereducation of an Overachiever

2010-04-14T20:55:00.003-04:00

In this memoir, Up in the Air author Walter Kirn traces his journey through the American educational system. Tutored at a young age by a retired admiral, Kirn endures a surreal trip through the public schools of rural Minnesota, Macalester College and, finally, Princeton University. Surrounded by the wealthy, the talented and the utterly bizarre, Kirn nearly loses his mind in an Ivy League setting before earning a competitive fellowship to Oxford.

A good personal essay is one which contains elements of both personal and universal truth. Inasmuch as a memoir can be interpreted as an extension of that form, the same criteria can be said to apply. With Lost in the Meritocracy, Walter Kirn manages to get it half-right. The book is filled with colorful character sketches – “Uncle Admiral” is rendered poignantly, upper-crust roommates are obnoxious and oblivious, a party girl doesn’t fully grasp the significance of having Truman Capote as an upstairs neighbor, etc. – which threaten to drive Kirn into the background. Despite this, the author/narrator emerges as a lost young man searching for guidance who nevertheless manages to find creative ways to assert and overexert himself. Kirn’s destructive tendencies – he vandalizes a common area after his roommates bar him from it – give him enough of an edge to steer him away from sad-sack territory and his playwriting ambitions dispel any fears that he would adopt the guise of a humble midwesterner.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t contain a lot of the larger, more universal truth. One of Kirn’s recurring memes is the corruption beneath the veneer of respectability. In conservative Minnesota, this takes the form of a deranged and lecherous old man who is allowed to teach and endanger children for decades; at elite Princeton, it’s the decadent rich, the drugged-out underachievers and many, many others. However, that things are never as pristine as they seem will come as a shock to precisely none of us.

Furthermore – and contrary to the title – we don’t really get a sense of “the meritocracy” at play. Yes, we do see the immense pressure Kirn faces at Princeton and the considerable toll it takes on him. But at the same time, we see this as less endemic of a system than it is of Kirn himself, drug-abusing and socially awkward as he is.

Lost in the Meritocracy stands out as a well-written yarn with plenty of interesting (sometimes funny, sometimes horrifying) anecdotes. But given the richness of the journey Kirn took, its lack of profundity and broader relevance is a major letdown.

7/10

The Defiant Ones

2010-04-12T17:24:00.001-04:00

John “Joker” Jackson (Tony Curtis) and Noah Cullen (Sidney Poitier) are two prisoners who break away from a Southern chain gang while chained together. The racist Jackson and the proud Cullen must stave off killing each other long enough to break the chain and make it to freedom. Meanwhile, a pack of hunting dogs and a wily sheriff (Theodore Bikel) are in relentless pursuit.

Stanley Kramer was his generation’s premier director of “message” movies, a distinction which won him as much scorn as it did praise. This award-winning 1958 offering provides support for both views. To start with, it’s very well-acted. Yes, Curtis’ Bronx accent creeps up every now and then (and Bikel as a Southern sheriff is a real stretch), but the roles are played with conviction. A young Poitier is angry as Cullen, but he brings a sense of cynical bemusement to the role as well, singing at inappropriate times to mock his oppressors. Curtis plays Joker as a hard-bitten realist when it comes to race relations, but a head-in-the-clouds optimist about his own affairs. These are some complex convicts and the nuance the actors bring to the characters elevates them above the level of props in an afterschool special about tolerance.

That isn’t to say this movie isn’t preachy. The script is littered with indignant and self-pitying riffs on race, place, class and justice. Kramer’s intent was probably to shame and shock a nation. He may have succeeded with 1958 audiences, but in 2010, this stuff is old hat. The inevitable grudging respect Joker and Cullen develop for one another seems predictable, as does the sheriff’s benevolence toward them as the film progresses.

Shot in black and white, The Defiant Ones picked up an Oscar for its cinematography. Landscape – particularly, a harsh and dreary swamp – is used effectively here. At a mere 97 minutes, the film doesn’t do much meandering, though it does start to lose steam toward the end.

Like many films which have been imitated and parodied, it becomes difficult to separate the original from what it inspired. In the case of The Defiant Ones, you get the sense that this was a once-great film that is increasingly failing the test of time.

7.25/10

Ham's Restaurant

2010-04-10T14:24:00.000-04:00

A regional, family friendly casual dining chain, Ham’s Greensboro locations include 3709-J Battleground Ave., 3017 High Point Rd. and 699 East Cone Blvd. This review will largely cover the original Friendly Avenue location, which will close Sunday after 75 years. All locations share a common menu featuring appetizers, salads, sandwiches, burgers, pasta, steak/chicken/seafood entrees and desserts. Drink and food specials change daily. Please contact your nearest location to ask about trivia, bingo or karaoke.

In many ways, Ham’s has been my culinary guiding light as a Southerner. When I arrived in New Bern from New Jersey five years ago to begin my journalism career, Ham’s was among the first restaurants I lunched at with coworkers. I was intrigued by the menu, which offered delicacies unavailable (and, in some cases, unheard of) in the Garden State. My first time out, I went with the shrimp burger: a delectable wad of fried shrimp served on a bun with slaw. Later, I graduated to shrimp and grits and the Cajun skillet, a shrimp/sausage/rice concoction that quickly became a favorite. A year into life as a Carolinian and Ham’s was a fixture in my regular restaurant rotation.

As I moved from New Bern to Elizabeth City and from my first reporting job to my second, I learned that aside from a Waffle House and a church every few miles, the South did not necessarily lend itself to homogeneity. New Bern was a placid-but-developing city filled with Northern transplants and retirees; Elizabeth City was a restless little town forced, somewhat reluctantly, into growth by the spillover from the Virginia Tidewater. There was no Ham’s in Elizabeth City and nothing really like it, either. And while I did find a few reliable places to eat, my cravings for lowcountry and Cajun fare went largely unfulfilled.

When I moved to Greensboro nearly two years ago, hopefulness returned to my life and so did Ham’s. The Friendly Avenue location was a nine-minute walk from my friend Andrew’s house and thus a logical destination.

My first time in, I was initially disappointed. One glance at the menu told me the original Ham’s was a different breed of restaurant from the New Bern location (the New Bern restaurant, to my understanding, was a separate franchise spun off the original). My Cajun skillet and shrimpburger were nowhere to be found, replaced instead by far more pedestrian offerings. Also, original Ham’s felt cheap; less a dining establishment than a funhouse. A model train chugged back and forth along one wall, reinforcing the notion that this is a place where nothing gets taken too seriously.

Fortunately, my initial pessimism ended once the food arrived. I went with a Cuban sandwich, something that, while not rare, was at least not a burger or a BLT. It was done right and the choice of sides (options included slaw, vegetables, homemade chips and my eventual favorite, potato salad) was a definite plus.

What made me a convert, however, was the cookie skillet. This decadent dessert featured soft chocolate chip cookies served sizzling hot on a skillet, topped with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sauce. It required at least two people to finish, took a toll on your stomach and made you feel like a glutton, but it was all worth it. The cookie skillet transcended Ham’s the way Don Mattingly transcended those lousy Yankees teams of the 1980s. At an easily splitable $5.99, it was a bargain too.

Needless to say, I went back. The cookie skillet became a rite of friendship with me. I would bring new people to Ham’s and get them to sample it, pressing strongly for their opinion (most had favorable things to say). I even created a facebook group to stress the dish’s superiority.

Return visits to Ham’s fell into an easy, comfortable rhythm. Andrew and Anna (of previously mentioned baking fame) and I frequently ended up there on Tuesdays to take advantage of the dirt-cheap $2.99 (with drink) Charlie’s Cheeseburger special. Utterly unpretentious (there were no caramelized onions or bleu cheese crumbles to be found), the Charlie’s burger was simply satisfying. In time, I also developed a predilection for the Big Island Chicken Sandwich, a moist and flavorful teriyaki grilled breast topped with ham, Swiss and pineapple. Neither that (at $7.29) nor the fried chicken salad ($8.49) were particularly good bargains, but they were both filling and pleasing just the same.

Ham’s casual atmosphere, which I initially took for a liability, quickly proved to be an asset. A given night featured at least one screaming young child and plenty of garrulous adults, but it was a comfortable loudness. It was liberating. I could talk freely and not have to watch what I said because the odds were slim that anyone beyond my table would hear it. If diners at nearby tables weren’t caught up in their own conversations, there was a good chance the bantering of others would drown out any inappropriate comment my group should happen to issue (and we issued plenty).

The one major drawback to Ham’s was the maddening, almost IHOP-like inconsistency. On some nights, servers were swift, attentive and genuinely pleasant and personable. On other nights, they were slower, more frazzled and rhetorically violent (“Is everything excellent?” How does one comfortable say “no” to that?). Though the food was usually satisfying, the quality of the cookie skillet varied from visit to visit and a bad Charliesburger put Andrew and Anna off Ham’s for weeks. The best that can be said is that there was never a wait for a table, no matter what the crowd.

Because I am not a native Greensboroian, I cannot identify Ham’s with my childhood. I’ll miss the Friendly Avenue location for its convenience, but I won’t feel like I’m losing a major part of my past when it closes. If anything, it makes me feel like I am evolving, moving on, pressing forward. Ham’s will shut its doors a month before I am set to finish grad school. Just as the Ham’s in New Bern was different from the Ham’s in Greensboro, a different Zac ate there. It’s likely that the next time I visit a Ham’s, both it and I will have changed once again. And while economic constraints may, unfortunately, force Ham’s to trend downward, I can only hope I’m headed in the opposite direction.

7/10

Our final cookie skillet:

Spartan

2010-04-05T19:06:00.001-04:00

When the President’s daughter (Kristen Bell) goes missing, special ops veteran Bobby Scott (Val Kilmer) assembles a team and launches a covert mission to get her back before the press finds out she’s gone. His quest includes twists, turns, travails and apparent failure, but nothing is as over as it seems.

Renowned for snappy banter and colorful con capers, David Mamet goes off the reservation with this slippery political thriller. Mamet’s approach here is minimalist and spare, hence the title (references to King Leonidas’ policy of sending one soldier to a country in need are also scattered throughout). This pared-down approach, coupled with occasional flourishes of ominous music and a quick pace, give Spartan plenty of tension. The initial premise may be simple, but there are enough twists and turns here to sustain the suspense for a good while.

Unfortunately, Spartan’s tone is all wrong. The unrelenting cynicism gives the film a nice edge, but it takes itself far too seriously for its own good. Numerous films (No Country For Old Men comes to mind) have shown us it is possible to churn out a tense thriller without sacrificing moments of levity.

The acting also leaves a lot to be desired. In trying to project “stoic tough guy,” Kilmer comes off as flat and wooden. Denzel Washington handled a similar role much better in Man on Fire. Bell is squandered in a grating, thankless role and the other names in the cast (Derek Luke, William H. Macy) aren’t given much to do.

Spartan is an interesting departure for Mamet and it has the trappings of an edgy, thought-provoking thriller. Unfortunately, it lacks both the craftsmanship and the talent to make it anything more than passable entertainment.

6.5/10

Star Trek

2010-03-31T21:06:00.001-04:00

In this reboot of the iconic sci-fi franchise, Cpt. Nero (Eric Bana) a renegade Romulian, destroys a Federation starship, killing Capt. George Kirk (Chris Hemsworth) in the process. George’s son, James (Chris Pine), grows up a headstrong rebel in the midwest. Eventually, he joins Starfleet and ends up on the Enterprise alongside Dr. Leonard McCoy (Karl Urban), translator Uhara (Zoe Saldana), pilot Hiraku Sulu (Jonathan Cho), navigator Pavel Chekov (Anton Yelchin) and ultra-logical half-Vulcan Cmdr. Spock (Zachary Quinto). Together, they must stop Nero from destroying the Federation planet by planet.

Star Trek tends to provoke as much controversy and passion among its fans as hockey does among Quebecers or World of Warcraft does among computer nerds. As a non-fan, I’m ill-equipped to evaluate this latest effort as a work of Star Trek lore. I can’t attest to its fidelity to the original series and I will fein neither giddy enthusiasm nor abject loathing for its very existence. All I can do is rate it as a movie.

As a movie, Star Trek leaves a lot to be desired. As with many so-so films, the script is the chief culprit. The plot manages to blend the metaphysical confusion of time travel with an overly simplistic revenge story. Characterization is nothing if not thin and predictable. The rebellious Kirk shows up on a motorcycle at one point (clichéd much?) and even as his character supposedly matures under pressure, we don’t see him actually undergo much of an internal change. Likewise, Spock’s supposed intelligence and rationality is undermined by his inability to adapt to remarks about his mother (portrayed briefly by a nearly unrecognizable Winona Ryder).

The acting is uneven, but less suspect. Simon Pegg is hilarious as engineer Montgomery Scott, Quinto makes the most of a difficult role and Leonard Nimoy is fun to watch as an aged version of his trademark character. Pine isn’t terrible in the lead, but he can’t help but seem inadequate. Ditto Bana – he brings some sympathy to a villainous role, but it’s still not enough to make Nero memorable. Both fare better than Soldana and Hemsworth though. The former is reduced to Object of the Hero’s Affection status, while the latter is embarrassingly wooden.

The one thing that action director J.J. Abrams did get completely right is the movie’s pace. Star Trek moves quickly without feeling rushed and there’s barely a wasted, extraneous moment to be found. Largely eschewing the CGI-happy antics of his contemporaries, Abrams also demonstrates that it’s possible to shoot a good-looking film the old-fashioned way.

It will undoubtedly thrill Trekkies to see this franchise given new life, but for those who didn’t have any investment in the TV series, there’s nothing exemplary here. Watch it, but don’t expect to go where no man has gone before.

6.5/10

Anna's Baking

2010-03-29T19:39:00.001-04:00

As a rule of thumb, I don’t review anything which isn’t commercially available. And while I won’t make an exception here, I will say this: my friend Anna is one hell of a baker. Her confections, which are too numerous to list, have included frosted banana cupcakes, a Philadelphia Phillies cake, macaroons, cream cheese cookies, various brownies and much, much more. Even on the rare occasions when the end result is misshapen (such an attempted croquembouche) or slightly burnt, it is still reliably tasty and sweet. Armed with a high-powered Kitchen Aid mixer and an encyclopedic knowledge of Martha Stewart lore, it seems like there is little she can’t concoct if given sufficient motivation and time.

Anna has a few recipes up on her blog. Lobby her and she may post a few more. Barring that, you could always become her friend.

NOTE: I was not compensated with cupcakes in exchange for this write-up. That would constitute a violation of my ethics. If this should lead to more baking in the future from which I would benefit, that is merely a happy coincidence.

Things Change

2010-03-22T20:51:00.000-04:00

Gino (Don Ameche), a simple Chicago shoe-shiner, is offered a considerable sum of money to take the fall for a murder committed by a Mafioso he resembles. Determined to one day buy a fishing boat, he accepts the offer. Jerry (Joe Mantegna), a low-level mob figure who has fallen out of favor, is assigned to watch Gino until his court date. He decides to show the older man a good time before he gets sent to prison and takes him to Lake Tahoe instead. Jerry passes his newfound acquaintance off as a powerful mob boss and, astonishingly, the ruse works. The more time they spend taking advantage of their newfound prestige, however, the more they stand to lose.

David Mamet has long had a fascination with crime and his second film can best be described as Being There crossed with Scorcese. Like Peter Sellers’ Chance the Gardener, Ameche’s Gino gets by because his naiveté is mistaken for genius by all around him. Mantegna gives some humanity to Jerry by making him more than just a moocher. The two leads are fun to watch and other Mamet regulars (magician Ricky Jay as a consigliore and a young bleach-blond William H. Macy as a chauffeur) make the most of their small parts.

What nearly kills this film is its lack of plausibility. Without giving too much away, these gangsters don’t act like gangsters – not even dumb ones. And yet the heaping of coincidence upon coincidence is essential to the plot. For that reason, Things Change works much better as a farce than a crime film. Taken in this vein, it’s equal parts entertaining and touching, though inescapably small.

7/10

Let the Great World Spin

2010-03-21T20:00:00.000-04:00

Set in New York City in 1974 against the backdrop of Philippe Petit’s infamous tightrope walk between the Twin Towers, Colum McCann’s National Book Award Winner explores the intertwined lives of more than a half-dozen characters. Corrigan, an idealistic Irish priest, lives in poverty and provides shelter for prostitutes while his pragmatic brother Ciaran tries to get him to go back to the old country. One of those prostitutes, Tillie, struggles to be a mother (and grandmother) despite the demands of the street life. Conservative, Jewish Judge Soderbergh, who sentences Tillie to prison, mourns the death of his son, while his high-strung WASP wife, Claire, forges an unexpected friendship with Gloria, a black woman with her own personal tragedies.

With its frequent point-of-view shifts and sprawling structure, “Let the Great World Spin” is a supremely ambitious work. McCann very nearly demonstrates that he has the talent to pull it off. His lyrical descriptions bring the city to life and he manages to give each character’s section a (mostly) unique style and voice. Even though the same events are touched on over and over again, they come across as fresh because we are seeing them through different eyes.

Unfortunately, the quality of McCann’s prose isn’t always an asset to the novel. In some sections, his penchant for descriptiveness comes across as distant and authorial rather than organic. The frequent point-of-view shifts are sometimes jarring. We are often dropped into a new character’s perspective without any context and it may take pages for us to find out who we are following and why.

The book’s final section is extremely puzzling. Set in the near-present, it introduces Tillie’s granddaughter, Jaslyn, and reveals the fates of many of the book’s characters. Though intended as a culmination, it reads more like a starting point. The good news is that we’re interested in Jaslyn, both as a product of the tragic circumstances which shape the book and as a lead character in her own right and we want to keep reading. The bad news is that the shift to modern day at the very end reduces the majority of the novel to a very elaborate backstory.

“Let the Great World Spin” is a flawed book full of interesting parallels. In examine a miraculous spectacle high in the air, McCann reminds us that miraculous things happen on the ground, too.

7.5/10

A Serious Man

2010-03-14T21:48:00.001-04:00

Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg) is a Jewish-American physics professor in 1967 Minnesota whose life seems to be unraveling by the minute. His wife (Sari Lennick) wants a divorce, his kids (Aaron Wolff and Jessica McManus) are ungrateful troublemakers, his brother (Richard Kind) is an unwelcome houseguest with legal woes, a disgruntled Asian student is threatening his job and he’s up for tenure. Unhelpful consultations with his lawyer (Adam Arkin) and several rabbis leave him wondering what it all means.

There used to be a time when “a Coen Brothers film” meant something. Miller’s Crossing, Barton Fink, The Hudsucker Proxy, Fargo and The Big Lebowski shared cast members, homages galore and a darkly comedic sensibility. Nowadays, no two Coen Brothers movies are alike. No Country For Old Men broke sharply with everything (Blood Simple notwithstanding) that came before, while Burn After Reading broke sharply with No Country. A Serious Man continues the pattern by having next to nothing in common with either film. Those looking for a return to the Coen Brothers “formula” (if a fairly complex body of work can even be described as such) will be disappointed.

Fortunately, change isn’t always a bad thing. Here, the Coens delve deeply into Judaica. Larry’s plight mirrors that of Job, bits of Hebrew are sprinkled throughout the dialogue and the various rabbi characters provide insight into Jewish traditions. How much of this will appeal to gentile audiences is tough to determine. As a Jew, I found it a well-intentioned, if not always flattering, examination of the faith.

Despite the gravity of Larry’s situation (and the implications of the title), A Serious Man manages to be fitfully funny. Larry being muscled into moving into a motel, the Korean student’s father’s botched attempts at threats and bribery and a Jefferson Airplane-quoting senior rabbi are among the endearingly odd, painfully awkward highlights.

Led by unknowns, the cast manages to bolster the film’s thematic aspirations. Despite the immense sympathy generated by his situation, Stuhlbarg manages to keep Larry just a touch dislikable. Even still, he has nothing on Fred Melamed as the wife-stealing Cy Abelman, an overbearing widower who is also a “serious man.” And Kind steals scenes as the underachieving, unbalanced Uncle Arthur.

A Serious Man is a painstakingly crafted – and painstakingly personal – film. Relentlessly bleak, unapologetically Jewish, engrossingly strange, it’s a challenging movie that offers thought-provoking dividends for those who get it and misanthropic torment for those who do not.

8/10

Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters

2010-03-11T16:58:00.002-05:00

The life and work of famed Japanese author Yukio Mishima (Ken Ogata) is presented in four different episodes, each with a different theme. The first segment is an adaptation of The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, in which a shy, stuttering Buddhist acolyte comes to revile a temple he has been raised to admire. The second segment is based on Kyoko’s House. Here, a young actor enters a destructive relationship with a wealthy woman to cancel his mother’s debt. The third episode is an adaptation of Runaway Horses, in which a young reactionary is determined to assassinate capitalists and bureaucrats and return Japan to its former glory no matter what the cost. The final episode focuses on Mishima’s final days, in which the controversial author and members of his private militia conspire to takeover a military garrison so he can deliver a rousing speech and launch a royalist coup.

Director and co-writer Paul Schrader has cited this unorthodox biopic as his finest work and it isn’t hard to see why. Ogata brings gravitas to the title role, the highly stylized look (exaggeratedly bright colors during the adaptations, black-and-white during flashback sequences and more natural tones in the frame story) is breathtaking and a Philip Glass/Kronos Quartet score imparts a sense of grandeur.

Nevertheless, the film doesn’t quite live up to its lofty ambitions. By structuring everything episodically, we get a good sense of Mishima’s ideas, but only a vague sense of the man himself. Pivotal moments in his life – a trip to the theater with his domineering grandmother, rejection from Army service, a dalliance in a gay bar – are shown briefly, minimizing the impact. That’s a shame, as Mishima makes for a complex, contradictory and captivating character: a prolific, closeted gay ultranationalist novelist/playwright/essayist who clung to the bushido code, founded his own army and didn’t live past 45.

Similarly, the film’s atmosphere, while stunning, doesn’t always work in its favor. There are times when the repetitive score seems overbearing and the artifice created by the bright color scheme leaves us wanting something more subdued. It goes without saying that this can easily confuse someone with no familiarity of Mishima or his work, but at the very least, it will inspire curiosity.

Because of its sprawling, episodic nature, A Life in Four Chapters is a difficult film to assess as a whole. As a biography, it leaves too much unanswered. As an adaptation of a writer’s work, it’s overly condensed. But as a concept film, it offers a rewarding and provocative – if somewhat flawed – experience.

7.75/10

Child of God

2010-03-10T22:03:00.001-05:00

Kicked off his land and falsely accused of rape, Lester Ballard wanders the mountains of Sevier County, Tennessee looking for trouble. The deranged, rifle-toting misfit pays visits to everyone from a domineering junkyard owner to an unexpecting shopkeeper, committing a serious of increasingly bizarre and violent crimes along the way.

First printed in 1974, Cormac McCarthy’s third novel is also among his more accessible. His trademark poetic landscape descriptions and quoteless dialogue are both here, but neither are done to excess. As a result, Child of God has a far quicker, more fluid pace than later McCarthy works, Suttree in particular.

The most striking aspect of Child of God is its idiosyncratic point of view. In the first section of the book, the narrative switches between Ballard’s perspective and that of unnamed townsfolk, who comment disparagingly (and ironically, given their own lack of sophistication) on his upbringing. We’re left with old Lester for the duration, but we never get too far inside his head. McCarthy takes us through the course of his days dispassionately, a plus not only because Ballard is a miserable human being, but also because this lack of judgment allows his monstrous acts to speak for themselves.

Weighing in at just under 200 pages, Child of God lacks both the literal and intellectual heft of Suttree and Blood Meridian, but it still gets at meaty concerns about the fabric of society and builds to a chillingly brutal conclusion. This is not McCarthy’s grandest work, but it may be his most tightly written. Neither the novice nor the experienced McCarthy reader should skip this overlooked gem.

8/10

Don

2010-03-10T19:50:00.004-05:00

Located at 423 Tate Street, Don serves Japanese appetizers, rice and noodle dishes. A limited selection of alcoholic beverages is available.

Japanese cuisine and sushi are synonymous in the imagination of the American public. As such, Japanese restaurants that don’t serve sushi are easy to overlook. However, Don convincingly makes the case that there’s more to savor than sashimi and specialty rolls.

Food at Don comes in a few different categories. In addition to the familiar ramen, there’s ishiyaki (sizzling rice bowls), yakisoba (thin fried noodles) and udon (thicker noodles in a stir fry or soup), each with different combinations of toppings. I’ve had the best luck with the ishiyaki, my favorites being shrimp, red snapper and katsu pork. Each is served sizzling hot, meaning you’ll have to do some stirring if you don’t want anything to burn. A selection of optional sauces allows you to season each dish to your liking and the complimentary miso is flavorful and not too salty.

Other dishes are hit-and-miss. Steamed gyoza are decent, but you can get better down the street. The chicken yakisoba is satisfactorily crunchy and has a good balance of flavors, though the serving size is small. Shoyu (soy) ramen was salty but otherwise bland.

Don’s interior is comfortable, modern and clean. Colorful paper lamps and decorative Japanese wall accent an otherwise dark space. There’s bar seating, though you shouldn’t have any problem getting a table here. Don is rarely ever crowded and service doesn’t lag.

Prices at Don are very reasonable. All entrees run under $10 and appetizers are generally in the $3 to $6 range. You can easily get a filling meal here without breaking the bank.

Don is no Sushi Republic – neither the caliber of cuisine nor the expense are comparable – but it’s a great option for diners who don’t need an expansive menu to enjoy a satisfying meal.

7.5/10

Zoe's Kitchen

2010-03-07T20:00:00.001-05:00

Located in the Shops at Friendly, Zoe’s Kitchen offers Greek influenced soups, sandwiches, salads, kabobs and more. Takeout dinners for four are available, side items can be purchased by the tub and there is a limited selection of alcoholic beverages.

A Greek-deli hybrid with a health-conscious spin, Zoe’s Kitchen sounds great on paper, but fails to live up to the promise of its concept. To its credit, the Birmingham-based chain shows some innovation with its menu. Sides include braised white beans and mayo-free marinated slaw and hibiscus green tea is available as a fountain drink. Several dishes can be prepared to accommodate vegetarian, vegan or gluten-free diners.

Unfortunately, not all of these innovations are successful. Zoe’s signature sandwich, the “Gruben” (turkey, Swiss, slaw and mustard on rye) lacks zest and will leave you craving the real thing. Though feta is an oft-utilized ingredient, Greek staples such as gyros and spanikopita are notably absent here.

Pricing here isn’t unreasonable. Sandwiches are an even $7 with one side included and the sides are generously portioned. Salads and entrees (with the exception of salmon kabobs) are all under $10.

Lunchtime at Zoe’s can be a mob scene. Show up between noon and 1 p.m. and you should expect at least a five-minute line wait. That, coupled with the garishly bright interior design and less-than-comfortable chairs, severely diminishes its appeal as a dining option.

All and all, Zoe’s Kitchen is well-intentioned and offers a few novel selections, but the food has a long way to go.

6/10

Sushi Republic

2010-02-28T21:33:00.001-05:00

Located at 329 Tate Street, Sushi Republic offers appetizers, Japanese entrees, and, of course, sushi. Wine,beer and saki are available, as are bento box lunches and outdoor seating during warmer weather.

Sushi is by its very nature an acquired taste. Nobody thinks they will like raw fish until they actually do. For that reason, it’s encouraging when a sushi restaurant continues to challenge our notions of what is and is not delectable.

In that regard, Sushi Republic rises magnificently to the occasion. You can get familiar sushi and sashimi here (tuna, salmon, shrimp and the like), but the real stars are the specialty rolls. Not content to experiment with mere avocado and cream cheese, Sushi Republic utilizes such ingredients as mango, mozzarella, BBQ eel and asparagus. My personal favorite, the Tate Street Roll, is a katsu-coated cornucopia of salmon, red snapper, crab, avocado, asparagus and cucumber, all topped with eel sauce. If that combination can’t tantalize your taste buds, nothing will.

For the sushi-skeptical, the menu offers no shortage of alternatives. Appetizers are grouped into Garden (edamame, vegetable gyoza), Farm (pork gyoza, chicken yakitori) and Sea (crab tempura, shrimp shumai). Any of the dumplings are safe bets. Entrees include teriyaki chicken, ribeye steak, seared tuna and panko breaded tilapia. Asparagus is a favorite here and accompanies many of the dishes.

Pricing at the Republic is reasonable for the quality of the food, meaning you’ll spend a lot to fill up, but you’ll feel that it’s worth it. Appetizers are mostly in the $4 to $9 range, entrees run from $13 to $16 and sushi varies considerably depending on the ingredients and quantity. Many of the specialty rolls can be had for under $10.

Seating isn’t a problem if you come for lunch or show up when the courtyard is open. Dinner during the winter months, on the other hand, is a gamble. It’s a small establishment and it fills quickly. Service when crowded can be sluggish, though servers are knowledgeable and polite and a pencil and paper ordering system greatly cuts down on confusion. Don’t tempt fate by trying to bring a large group and don’t plan on eating a quick meal.

Both the expense and the scarcity of space prevent Sushi Republic from becoming a regular option, but for special occasions with time to spare, it will deliver new ways to please your palate.

8/10

Shutter Island

2010-02-21T22:16:00.005-05:00

In 1954, federal marshals Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) are summoned to a mental hospital on an island off the coast of Massachusetts to search for an escaped patient. A storm leaves them stranded not long after they get there and their investigative resolve puts them at odds with Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley), the chief psychiatrist. Daniels suspects something sinister afoot, but is that the evidence or his trauma (dead wife and memories of liberating Dachau) talking?

Dennis Lehane’s thrilling novel is given the star treatment, as Martin Scorsese and an A-list cast team together to create a film with a very high cinematic pedigree. The results do not disappoint. It’s a faithful adaptation, beautifully rendered. “Beautiful,” however, does not always equal “pleasant” and that’s especially true in this case. There’s plenty of disturbing imagery (raving mad inmates and frozen dead concentration camp inmates are just the beginning) to go with the period clothing and the stormy solitude of the island creates a profound sense of disquiet from the moment the marshals arrive. Not since Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of The Shining has a director been able to extract such place-based tension from the get-go.

The acting isn’t quite on par with the aesthetics, but its fine in its own right. DiCaprio delivers a gripping performance as a conflicted man who threatens to unravel under pressure. Max von Sydow adds a hint of stately menace as a smug Germanic psychiatrist, while Emily Mortimer convincingly conveys fragile instability as the missing patient, a delusional woman who supposedly drowned her own children. Kingsley is a bit understated for his own good and the Boston accents are probably too thick, but these aren’t fatal flaws.

Despite the tension and paranoia in the air, Shutter Island is not a quick-moving film. It slowly branches out, unfolding its mystery piece by sinister piece. Some will grow bored and frustrated with the deliberate pace, just as some will find its twists and turns (including a key revelation toward the end) gimmicky and predictable. These are valid criticisms, but it’s important to realize that this is a film where whatever actually happened takes a backseat to the effects that it produces on the characters and viewers alike.

As evident from the trailers, Shutter Island is not for the feint of heart. It is also not for those who demand absolute ingenuity in plotting. But for those who can live with those constraints and focus on the craftsmanship, this is as good as it gets.

8.25/10

Lindley Park Filling Station

2010-02-21T21:33:00.000-05:00

Located at the corner of Walker and Elam Avenues, Lindley Park Filling Station offers burgers, sandwiches, salads and more. There’s a full bar and brunch is available on Sundays.

As the name suggests, the Filling Station once catered to gasoline rather than gastronomy. Don’t go looking for license plates and Shell stickers on the walls, though — the interior is elegantly minimalistic. Televisions are available if you want to watch a game, but the ever-present music may make paying attention difficult.

The Filling Station’s menu is geared toward lighter eats. Entrees are occasionally available on special, but you’re usually looking at something in the soup/salad/sandwich range. Whatever you order will likely bear the name of a local street or landmark, an added bonus for neighborhood folk.

The fare here is served with flair. Nut crusted goat cheese with marinated portabella mushrooms, a salmon salad with walnuts, goat cheese and lemon poppyseed dressing over a bed of baby spinach and a fried green tomato/herbed mayo/cheddar on Texas toast sandwich all show creativity and refinement. Even more conventional options are given a dash of the upscale: pita and hummus comes with both the black bean and red pepper varieties, while burgers include touches like basil aioli and caramelized onions. The Scott Avenue (a crab cake/bacon/baby spinach salad, paired with a tasty buttermilk-chive dressing) is a personal favorite, but you really can’t go wrong with anything here. Just be sure you save room for dessert — the banana fried cheesecake is tantalizingly sweet.

If there’s one drawback to the Filling Station, it’s that it is easily, well, filled. A scarcity of space and seating means you’re most likely headed for a chair at the bar. Show up on a Friday night with a group, however, and you’ll be lucky to find room to squeeze inside, let alone sit down. The congestion can cause service to suffer, though the staff are friendly enough.

The satisfyingly quirky menu and hip location make the Filling Station an ideal destination to grab a drink or a quick bite to eat, but this is not the place to be if you plan on lingering long.

7.75/10

Southern Comfort

2010-02-14T19:50:00.000-05:00

In 1973, members of the Louisiana National Guard venture into the bayou for training exercises. It isn’t long before they offend some local Cajun hunters, with tragic consequences. Lost, scared and conflicted, the guardsmen are then left to fight their way back to civilization.

The worst that can be said for Southern Comfort is that it is low on originality. The plot mirrors that of one of director Walter Hill’s previous films, The Warriors, in which a more urban group of outnumbered outsiders tried to fight their way home. The ruthlessness of the locals and Mother Nature alike also suggest a strong indebtedness to Deliverance. In fact, if some studio executive pitched Deliverance meets Tropic Thunder meets Predator, this is probably the product that would result.

It’s filmmaking by algorithm, but that doesn’t make it bad. Southern Comfort is full of tension and moves at a brisk pace. The booby-trapped bayou and the clash of personalities among the guardsmen will leave you waiting to see who’s going to get it next and how. A violent pig slaughter interspersed with Cajun villagers singing and dancing while the hunters search for the surviving guardsmen is particularly tense.

Plot-driven as the movie is, the ensemble cast doesn’t need to do much to make it work. Keith Carradine doesn’t even bother to fake an accent – or develop a physique — as Spencer, a “city boy” who eventually takes command. Fred Ward is decidedly more convincing as Reece, a sadistic, belligerent redneck bent on revenge. The real star, however, is Powers Boothe. As sour-faced Texan Hardin, he does the anti-hero/survivalist thing to a T.

Like previous Hill releases, the setting allows the film to reach higher thematic ground than either the acting or the script suggest. It can be read as an anti-war movie in that it shows what happens when a group of armed and uniformed foreigners – several of them psychotic or incompetent – charge into a hostile backcountry. At the same time, it never feels like a polemic. Between the vengefulness of the Cajuns and the guardsmen’s penchant for stirring up trouble, there’s more than enough blame to go around.

7/10

Strange Cousins From the West

2010-02-07T15:55:00.000-05:00

Released in mid-2009, Clutch’s 9th studio album carries on the band’s proudly eclectic tradition. Here, Clutch continues to blend stoner metal with blues-rock influences and angry-sounding vocals with literate, sometimes funny lyrics. The biggest difference this time around is that keyboardist Mick Schauer is gone and, as the title suggests, there’s more of a Western feel.

Clutchophiles will also notice that things have slowed down considerably on Strange Cousins. There isn’t as much drive and aggression as there was on previous releases, but this isn’t really a bad thing. It allows the lyrics and powerful rhythm section to take center stage. Neil Fallon’s vocals are also a lot cleaner when he isn’t stuck in a loudness war with Tim Sult’s guitar.

Slowed-down or not, no one will mistake this for easy listening. The album opens with a catchy twang on “Motherless Child” and both “50,000 Unstoppable Watts” and “Algo Ha Cambiado” feature funky, albeit repetitive rhythms.

Lyrically, like any good Clutch album, Strange Cousins is all over the place. “Abraham Lincoln” bemoans the assassination of our 16th president and denounces his killer as a coward, while “Motherless Child” strikes a familiar blues refrain about the hard life. On the opposite end of the spectrum, tongue-in-cheek anti-government paranoia runs through “50,000 Unstoppable Watts” (“Your friends from Langley are back again”) and “Freakonomics” (“Red threat! Helicopters! Super mind control!”). It’s sometimes hard to separate the band’s stabs at sincerity for its fondness for unabated wackiness, but at least it’s never boring.

Strange Cousins is not the definitive Clutch album nor should it be anyone’s first Clutch album. But for those equipped to handle the band’s idiosyncrasies, it’s a welcome addition.

7.25/10

Hard Times

2010-02-07T15:07:00.000-05:00

Aging Depression-era drifter Chaney (Charles Bronson) earns his keep fighting in illegal bare-knuckle street fights. He soon hooks up with shady promoter Speed (James Coburn), who talks him into going to New Orleans to make some real money. As Chaney’s reputation grows, Speed’s gambling debts deepen and they both run afoul of ruthless businessman Gandil (Michael McGuire).

The true mark of a well-crafted film is that it could have been a bad film in different hands. That description fits Hard Times to a T. By the mid-1970s, Bronson could do tough-guy roles with his eyes closed, which isn’t too far removed from what he does here. Chaney is a man of few words and when he does speak, it’s with an unwavering deadpan. This could have easily been nothing more than 90 minutes of him punching people, which, for some people, might still be worth watching.

What saves Hard Times from B-movie status is the behind-the-camera work of first-time director Walter Hill (who also wrote the script). The man who would go on to develop Alien and direct The Warriors and 48 Hours gives his debut film a solid period feel. It’s nowhere near as handsome as a Scorsese production, but the cars, the clothes and the crowded back alleys all feel right on. What’s more, Hill manages to subtly capture the era’s desperate, scrappy zeitgeist – something which viewers should be able to connect with in these tough economic times.

Next to the gritty look and feel, the film’s greatest asset is the fight sequences. There’s a touch of Indiana Jones Syndrome in that punches sound 10 times louder than they should be, but the strikes and blows are well-choreographed. At 50-plus, Bronson could still give – and take – a convincing beating. The on-screen slugfests are neither cartoonish nor stylistically exaggerated. This is just good, old-fashioned brawling, brutal and simplistic to a fault.

Both the script and the supporting performances are fairly one-note and predictable. Coburn is appropriately fast-talking and shameless as Speed, but it’s a completely static role. And Jill Ireland, the real-life Mrs. Bronson, isn’t on screen long enough to bring any depth to her role as a married woman Chaney takes up with. On the other hand, Strother Martin leaves a lasting impression as Poe, an opium-addicted med school dropout turned fight doctor with an exaggeratedly eloquent way of speaking.

In and of itself, Hard Times is solid entertainment which falls well short of greatness. It is worth watching, however, for both the insights it provides into Depression-era values and the ascendancy of Hill as a premier action director.

7/10

The Book of Eli

2010-01-29T15:01:00.001-05:00

In a post-apocalyptic future, a mysterious traveler named Eli (Denzel Washington) wanders west across miles of scorched and barren desert. Along the way, he stops in a reconstructed town whose educated mayor, Carnegie (Gary Oldman), covets a certain book, believing it to be the key to expanding his power. That book is later revealed to be the last remaining Bible, which Eli just so happens to have in his possession.

It’s been nearly a decade since the Hughes Brothers’ last film (From Hell) and their latest effort seems like a significant departure. Released in the wake of The Road, The Book of Eli shares that film’s battered landscape, cannibal gangs and yearning for lost decency. But while The Road is a highly personal story told in a strikingly lyrical style, The Book of Eli is much more of a universal tale and functions as a parable. The thematic gist of the film – that religion can be a great creative or destructive force – is neither original nor complex, but the way in which that point is made is thoroughly engaging.

As entertainment, The Book of Eli also boasts a relatively quick pace and some exhilarating combat scenes. Cast against type, Washington brings a quiet determination to Eli, a resolute man on a mission. Oldman, in contrast, overacts in yet another one of his eccentric villain roles, but he does it so well that his scene-chewing can be forgiven. The female lead is filled by Mila Kunis, who occasionally feels like dead weight as she flees Carnegie’s clutches to join Eli on his quest. Other familiar faces (Tom Waits, Jennifer Beals, Malcolm McDowell) show up in bit parts, but only Michael Gambon and Frances de la Tour – a whacked-out old couple with a house full of grizzly secrets – leave a lasting impression.

The Book of Eli’s overt religious symbolism will likely divide viewers, as will a twist ending which forces a reexamination of the entire film up to that point. For those who can accept its premises, The Book of Eli offers both punch and purpose.

7.25/10

Mexico Restaurant

2010-01-29T14:21:00.000-05:00

A local family-owned franchise, Mexico Restaurants can be found at 4800 W. Market St., 1007 Battleground Ave. (the location covered in this review), 2307 Fleming Road and 3606 N. Elm St. Mexico offers a wide variety of tortilla-based dishes (tacos, burritos, quesadillas, fajitas), chicken and steak selections, salads, margaritas, imported beers and more. Food and drink specials change daily and lunch specials are offered from 11-2:30. Catering is available.

A Mexican restaurant called Mexico Restaurant sets the bar low for originality. Accordingly, the most innovative thing you’ll find here is the décor. Brightly colored tables, chairs and walls give the establishment a distinct identity – think Alice in Wonderland with a Southwestern flair.

Unfortunately, the cuisine is pedestrian by comparison. Grilled chicken served inside half a pineapple is as exotic a dish as you’ll find here. That means no mole sauce or puerco al pastor and the tacos are Tex-Mex rather than authentic-style. Though the menu spans an impressive 5-plus pages, many of the selections incorporate beef, chicken and some kind of tortilla.

Familiar as it may be, the food here isn’t bad. Camarones (shrimp) come full-size and carnitas (seasoned pork) is just flavorful enough and not too dry. As most dishes come with lettuce and a side of rice (at minimum), you get a good deal of bang for your buck. Entrees run from $7-$8 for chicken and quesadilla dishes up to around $13 for steak and seafood. For those seeking lighter fare, tacos and sides are also available a la carte for a few dollars each.

Service at Mexico is prompt. Order a refillable beverage and your glass won’t stay empty very long. The wait staff is also able to provide separate checks for large groups without any difficulty. Just be clear about what you’re ordering or you could end up with something you never intended.

On the whole, Mexico offers standard Tex-Mex fare at reasonable prices. It’s hardly the worst in town, but it’s not a fiesta for your taste buds either.

6.25/10

The Crimson Rivers

2010-01-25T20:17:00.000-05:00

When an eyeless, handless corpse is found in an isolated French university town, highly regarded police detective Pierre Niemans (Jean Reno) is brought in from Paris to investigate. Meanwhile, about 60 miles away, streetwise cop Max Kerkorian (Vincent Cassel) is working an investigation of his own: the desecration of a grave of a 10-year-old girl who died in a gruesome car accident. It isn’t long before additional bodies pile up and the two cases begin to intersect.

From the opening shot of a worm-ravaged body lying in snow to the closing fade away atop the icy mountains, this 2000 French thriller by Matthieu Kassovitz is nothing if not evocative. Gruesome, suspenseful and chilling, it features a taut pace, breathtaking cinematography and a creepy, if occasionally overbearing score.

The acting takes a backseat to the film’s technical elements, but it is far from deficient. Reno plays the veteran cop as calm, collected and determined….save for a mysterious fear of dogs. Cassel is annoying at times as his younger counterpart, but gets some of the film’s funnier lines and gives Max an edge. The strangest performance may be that of Dominique Sanda as the dead girl’s mother – a shadow-dwelling nun who looks like she stepped off the set of The Omen.

Given the film’s many strengths, it’s a shame that it builds to such an unsatisfying, confusing and ultimately preposterous conclusion. The killer’s identity is a major letdown and Kassovitz’ attempt at political allegory, while well-intentioned, is thoroughly mishandled and misplaced.

Had Kassovitz not fumbled by biting off more than he could chew thematically, The Crimson Rivers probably would have been a great film. Instead, it will have to settle for being a good one with a bad ending.

7.5/10

JP Looney's Sports Bar & Grille

2010-01-18T14:41:00.000-05:00

Located at 3021 Spring Garden St., JP Looney’s offers appetizers, wings, burgers sandwiches and entrees. Amenities include a full bar with daily drink specials, over a dozen televisions, karaoke and games. Catering is available.

Sometimes, there’s something to be said for the comfort of familiarity. JP Looney’s embodies just about every sports bar cliché imaginable, but in the end, it still manages to satisfy. The menu, for instance, is steeped in sports jargon. Appetizers are “The Starting Lineup,” salads are “Spring Training,” and so on. And if that doesn’t fulfill your quota for corniness, look no further than Looney’s chicken wing motto: “We pluck ‘em, you suck ‘em.”

In spite of the questionable marketing, the wings rate among the best in the Triad. They come in more than a dozen different flavors, bone-in or boneless. Try the latter in sweet teriyaki and you won’t regret it – those succulent suckers go by quick. BBQ-style, in either medium or hot, rate a distant second.

The rest of the menu varies in quality. Burgers, mozzarella sticks and ribs are done right, but a chicken sandwich was tough and bone-dry. Despite all the sports verbiage, nothing here is actually a steal: burgers and sandwiches run in the $6 to $9 range (choice of side included), while 10 boneless wings go for $9 an order (bone-in are only 30 cents less).

Finding seating at Looney’s is a gamble. Show up when there’s a popular game going on and you’re looking at a wait for a decent table. If you are able to get in, you may find yourself in the middle of “Dick Cheney’s hidden bunker,” as one friend put it – a room covered wall-to-wall with television screens. As with any sports bar, you can bet on sporadic earfuls of cheering and hollering. Servers are friendly and will gladly change TV channels for you, but don’t count on promptness if there’s a sizeable crowd.

As a dining experience, Looney’s leaves a bit to be desired, particularly if you aren’t in the mood for wings. But if all you’re looking for is a spot to get some food and watch a game, this is as good as it gets, bar none.

7/10

Windy City Hot Dog & Grill

2010-01-15T16:11:00.001-05:00

Located at 401 Tate St., Windy City offers hot dogs, burgers, sandwiches, salads and sides. Take out is available.

Up until recently, the corner of Tate St. and Walker Ave. was home to Jibaro, a family-run establishment which offered slightly overpriced but very satisfying Latino fare. Regrettably, Jibaro shut its doors earlier this month, only to reopen as Windy City. The management, the sparse interior and, thankfully, a few of the menu items have carried over, but for anyone who was a fan of pernil and plantain sandwiches, the rebranding will come as a disappointment.

First and foremost, Windy City suffers from a bit of an identity crisis. The name, the Cubs pennants on the wall and the use of Vienna Beef franks are all meant to evoke Chicago, but no one will confuse the Greensboro spot with a Maxwell Street establishment. And while Windy City does offer a Chicago-style hot dog and an Italian beef sandwich, don’t look for deep dish pizza, Vesuvio potatoes or other Chicago fare.

To Windy City’s credit, however, there is more variety here than you’d find at the typical hot dog joint. You can still get Jibaro’s tasty Cuban sandwich and empanadas, as well as fish & chips, chicken, chili and wraps. Oddly enough, the jibarito – a plantain sandwich popular in Chicago – is nowhere to be found.

There is also some variety among the burgers and dogs. You can get them plain, Carolina-style (with chili and slaw) or topped with bacon and cheese, all with your choice of free condiments. The dogs are a decent size and better than those you’d find at say Yum-Yum, but they won’t blow you away. The fries are flavorful, albeit salty.

Where Windy City really falls short is in pricing. A plain hot dog runs $2.79, specialty dogs are 70 cents more, and burgers and sandwiches go for $5 to $7, all without drinks or fries. Try to put together a meal and you’re over $6 easily – no bargain considering the quality of the food.

Because Windy City is a family establishment, it will likely win over supporters who value the personal touch. But from both culinary and economic standpoints, it rates an occasional visit, at best.

6/10