NFT Radar: Sutra

Sutra fulfills a niche that is sorely underrepresented: The Vegetarian Foodie. As a regular Top Chef viewer, I know that most gourmet chefs have no idea what to do with a slab of tofu. One guy, when faced with a tofu challenge, elected to braise it with beef fat to make it “taste good.” But the folks at Sutra don’t need to cheat to make vegetarian food classy and tasty. They’ve designed a sort of supper club with 2 seatings, Wednesday through Saturday. The 4 course, set menu runs around $33 per person. Beer and wine is extra. All the ingredients are local, seasonal and organic. The presentation is professional and attractive. Even though you share the small dining room with 20 people, and they begin with a speech about the meal, you can still have a nice private dinner with your friends. The food itself is… good! It’s not life changing but if you’re having a birthday dinner or celebration of some sort wherein 2 or more of your party are vegetarians, this is a great place to go. The changing menu means that every Sutra experience will be new and exciting. Not unlike the most famous Sutra of all, the Kama.


1605 N 45th St 98103
206-547-1348
www.sutraseattlec.com.

X-posted from Not For Tourists.

Film Threat Review: Sun Dogs

2009 PHILADELPHIA FILM FESTIVAL/CINEFEST FEATURE!
Un-rated
91 minutes
Gargantuan Films


One and a half stars

“Sun Dogs,” which screened at the Philadelphia Film Festival/Cinefest and is written and directed by Jason Affolder, is another self-important movie about an underachieving 30-something who scrapes by on pseudo-philosophy. The protagonist is Michael (Matt Palumbo), a high school teacher on summer break. He makes money by donating plasma every 3 days and spends most of it on booze. In his spare time, he cavorts with, and dispenses advice to, a latchkey teenage boy. It takes a lot of chutzpah to write and direct movie like this. You have to be pretty confident that your dialogue is groundbreaking or, at the very least, realistic. If it isn’t, you’ll have a tedious mess on your hands. And that, my friends, is “Sun Dogs.”

When he’s not attached to a needle, swigging from a whiskey bottle on a park bench or selling contraband to teenagers, Michael likes a bit of karaoke. But he only does one song: “Cupid” by Sam Cooke. One evening, a girl named Ashley catches his performance and violently rips the mic away from him, before storming out. Thus begins their irritatingly complicated love affair. She doesn’t believe in love. He does. She doesn’t want a commitment. He does. She has secrets. He also has secrets. Will these secrets tear them apart?! Whatever!

Michael also spends a lot of time with a high school student named Andy, teaching him to drive and dispensing love advice. Andy is ignored by his single, working mother. You can tell she ignores him because they are out of cereal. In fact, this movie is full of hackneyed short-hand moments like that. Michael and Ashley are whimsical because they dance in the street when there’s no music! Chess is a metaphor for life! Puh-lease!

“Sun Dogs” is supposed to be about quirky, lonely people who say offbeat things that double as universal truths. It’s tries very hard to be “Me, You and Everyone We Know.” But Miranda July’s movie works because her story is full of humility. Her characters have real reactions to life as it happens to them. They take it one moment at a time. In “Sun Dogs,” the characters see everything as a metaphor for the big picture. Michael says things like “I’m watching the present become the past”, “You gotta pick the golden peanuts out of the shit pile” and “It’s an accidental world” and you can hear Affolder’s smugness in every line. There’s a desk calendar out there that could use his brand of wisdom. But in script format, it’s a bloated mess.

The dialog wouldn’t be so intolerable if the characters were at least somewhat interesting. But Affolder doesn’t give us any reason at all to care about them. So he’s a lonely teenager. So she’s a waitress who paints trees and doesn’t get along with her mother. So he’s a poor, alcoholic high school teacher. So what? Do they do or say anything we haven’t seen or heard before? The most interesting thing about Michael is that he has a beard. But then, at Ashley’s request, he shaves it. . . into a soul patch. He’s a soul patch kind of guy. How much do you want to bet that Jason Affolder also has a soul patch?

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

The Rock of Love Bus if Finally Over!

I’m really hoping it’s out of my life forever. That really ended with a whimper, didn’t it. But, like an abusive boyfriend, I’m sure it will be back. And I’m hoping I’ll have the courage to tell it to fuck off. Continue reading

Film Threat Review: God’s Forotten Town

2008
Un-rated
90 minutes
Imagina

One Star

“Intrusos (en Manasés)” or “God’s Forgotten Town,” is an excruciatingly silly “horror” film from Spain starring the poor woman’s Penelope Cruz, Belén López. Lopez plays a paranormal journalist who takes a team to a ghost town to investigate the disappearance of its residents 60 years ago. It’s a silly, meandering movie with a little pretension thrown in for good measure. To call it a B movie would be an undeserved compliment.

As the film opens, Julia and Roberto, a young couple who also work together in some journalistic capacity, interview a woman who claims to be haunted by ghosts. Her daughter draws crude pictures of herself with the ghosts, so we know this woman is telling the truth. But Julia and Roberto don’t believe her (even though it’s their job to investigate ghost stories?!) and tell her to get physiological help. On their way out, Julia gets a weird feeling and decides to go back just in time to see the lady throw herself and her daughter off the balcony. Julia regrets not believing her and plunges into a deep depression.

Julia lays low for a few weeks and takes baths. (Yes, there are boobs. That may be the film’s only saving grace.) She comes out of hiding to go back to work with Roberto and explore a haunted town called Manases. In 1945, all of the town’s residents disappeared after a Nazi plane crashed there. The Nazis were after the “Scepter of Power,” an object that, like the Holy Grail or Ark of the Covenant, would have helped them win the war. Apparently the Nazis had no real strategy for WWII. They just kept hoping they’d find a magic object. It’s amazing they had any time at all to kill Jews.

Aiding Julia and Roberto on their assignment are Syra, a stoner camerawoman, and Ruben, a super straight-edge grip. Ruben wears a t-shirt with Xs on it and constantly tells Syra not to smoke pot. She rolls her eyes at him and tells him to lighten up. What foils these two are! Can they ever make it work?

Of course, once in Manases, they encounter scary ghost business in the form of, well, everything. In addition to straight-up ghosts, there is also flying pottery, mirrors that smash themselves, ghostly voices, mysterious footprints, ghosts in mirrors, ghosts on video camera night vision, first person ghost-vision and possession. It’s like a ghost story checklist. And it’s all ridiculous.

Eventually, a little ghost girl shows Julia what happened in the town and how to save her and stop the evil ghost Nazi from activating the Scepter of Power. It’s at this point where the whole thing goes from stupid to redonkulous. They also decide to explain everything in nauseating detail. The ghost girl’s flashback goes on forever. Then later, there’s another flashback to explain what happened during the first flashback. And then there’s the ending. I won’t spoil it for you even though you have no business watching this movie. But I will tell you that it’s one of the maiziest (Spanish for corn!) things I have ever seen in a movie pretending to be a horror film.

But, at least there are boobs. Twice!

Originally Posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

NFT Radar: Memo’s Mexican Food

Late-night Mexican food has long been a college student staple. Nothing soaks up the booze at 2:30 in the morning better than a couple of tacos or a fatty burrito. In my day, we had Taco Bell. But today, the kids have something a whole lot better: Real Mexican food twenty-four hours a day. Memo’s is muy authentico and delicioso. You might experience a lot of emotions after enjoying one of their combo meals, but buyer’s remorse is not one of them. Their breakfast menu, available all day, features a variety of eggy burritos (steak, ham, bacon, cheese or potato) as well as the classic Huevos Rancheros. From 6-11 am, 3 of those burritos are only $2.99. But the savings don’t stop there. 16 combo meals offer massive amounts of food for under $7. Kids eat for $3.50. Gringos might enjoy the Washington Burrito, a behemoth featuring steak, potatoes, salsa and cheese for $4.50. Did I mention taquitos? They have those too. For dessert, try their house-made flan, advertised as “the dessert with all the answers.” Run away from The Border and toward Memo”s.


4743 University Way NE 98105
206-729-5071
memosmexicanfood.com

X-posted from Not For Tourists.

I Miss Ashley

I’m having a hard time watching Rock of Love Bus now that all the interesting/crazy girls are gone. My earlier predictions about Ashley were incorrect. Not only did she go home early (for the same reason as her draggy predecessor, Daisy…she was still living and having sex with her ex) she was also revealed to be a woman…and the mother of two children!! The baby mamas on ROL certainly raising (and I use that term loosely) an army of psychological messes. But I digress…

Having only normal ladies left just makes Bret Michaels’ misogyny/hypocrisy all the more apparent. If his the ladies refuse to obey his whims and wear his shitty “Carnivale” outfits, he calls them a buzz kill. If they keep mum about their displeasure, he blames them for not saying what’s on their mind. If what’s on their mind isn’t playing tonsil hockey with him, he says they’re in a funk and jams his tongue in their mouths anyway. He gets upset if they promote their business on national television while he, Bret Michaels, wears a fucking t-shirt with his own name on it. He can’t understand why the girls get upset on group dates and takes turns groping them but if they don’t get jealous then he accuses them of being there “for the wrong reasons”. He wants someone who can “roll” on the road and who loves his music but he doesn’t want a groupie. In short, he keeps changing his tune because he obviously doesn’t care about finding love. He’s just trying to find as many ways as possible to prolong his narcissistic fantasy of a house/bus full of sluts who will do anything he asks of them.


Dick.

If he weren’t Bret Michaels, he would not be able to get away with this shit. In fact, I don’t understand why Bret Michaels is allowed to get away with this shit. He is a talentless 90s throwback. And he’s clearly balding. He is a spoiled 5 year old who has gotten his way for too long. I know, I know. This is not a revelation. This has all been pretty clear from the beginning. But you have to admit the blonde train wrecks were pretty entertaining. There were long stretches of show which had no Bret Michaels at all. Just women who stuffed their triple E cups into sparkly clothing scraps, got plowed, said hilarious things and then fell over. But now it’s just 3 semi-average girls with low self-esteem bitching at each other and Bret trying to make out with them. It’s nauseatingly boring as well as just plain nauseating.

Only one more episode to go so I might as well watch it. Though I don’t really care who he picks as his “rock of love” at this point. I don’t think he does either. He’s too busy planning season 4.

SXSW Review: My Suicide

2008
Un-rated
105 minutes
Go Code Productions

Two Stars

“My Suicide” is the title of both the movie and the movie-within-a-movie, in which an alienated, pop-culture-obsessed teenage boy named Archie decides to film his suicide for his film class project. But his plans are complicated when the announcement of said project finally wins the attention of the popular girl Archie has had his eye on.

The premise sounds promising to be sure. But the execution (no pun intended) is excruciating. My issues with this film were so numerous that it’s difficult to know where to begin.

I’ll start with the clichés. My god, the clichés! Why does Archie want to kill himself? Well, his parents ignore him. They let him live in the pool house and leave him be edit his movies. (I would have killed for that kind of freedom when I was 16.) Also, ignoring him is the girl of his dreams. A beautiful, blonde, popular rich girl named Sierra who seems to have the perfect life. But guess what? Even the beautiful people have problems! Never saw that coming.

Archie is a product of the information age. He speaks almost entirely in movie quotes, many of them non-sequiturs. He’s constantly doing impressions. He blames his mother for taping him as a child, but he has chosen to perpetuate his life on camera. He is an anti-social narcissist. And he’s very annoying. I couldn’t wait for him to stop doing Brando and get around to killing himself.

The day Archie announces his big project to the class is the day he enters the radar of his peers. His announcement results in his arrest in front of the entire school. Sierra is impressed and decides she wants to interview him. (Does every teenager own and operate a video camera these days?) After a duel-action invasive interview, camera-to-camera, they become inseparable. They’ve entered into a suicide pact. At that moment, I realized Archie is probably not going to kill himself. Redemption is sure to come in some form or another. Because this movie is a cliché so only clichéd things can happen. Damn.

The good news is that the acting wasn’t that bad. It helped that they used actual teenagers to play the characters instead of twenty-something name actors. Too bad about the dialog. (Or rather, what little dialog there was, not pilfered from superior films.) Also, David Carradine was somewhat entertaining as the grizzled documentarion whom Archie idolizes.

Perhaps the core problem with the film is the fact that director David Lee Miller is an older man. I’m not good at the guess-my-age game, but it’s likely that someone with gray hair would not have the freshest recollection of his teens. Even if he did, the 60’s, 70’s and even 80’s were vastly different eras than the one we’re in. Hell, I didn’t even have the internet in my house until high school. The notion of a video editing suite and green screen in my room was a pipe dream at best. So maybe that’s why nearly every note in this film rang false.

Then again, his directorial debut, “Breakfast of Aliens,” was just horrible in every imaginable way, from the acting to the story. So perhaps David Lee Miller is actually just a crappy filmmaker. Either way, sitting through “My Suicide” made me contemplate my own.

Originally Posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

NFT Radar: Upper Playground

Used to be it was a Portland or San Fran destination. But now Seattle’s got our very own Upper Playground. This distinctive clothing store features contemporary graphic design by urban artists on casual apparel. The artists on their roster include Sam Flores, Jeremy Fish, David Choe, Estevan Oriol and Alex Pardee. Printed on high-quality, robust tees and hoodies, these are clothes that will stay with you for the long haul. They’ll certainly survive even the most intense urban lifestyle whether it’s skateboard wipeouts or DJing a Lohan party. Who couldn’t love their t-shirts that incorporate classic metal band logos with the U.P. walrus? Even if t-shirts and hoodies aren’t your thing you can still enjoy the clever and unique art in book form and on bags, mugs, pillows, shower curtains and accessories. They also have an art gallery, which occasionally holds shows and openings. At the very least, it’s a great place to find your next tattoo idea. Be sure to check out their website for more information about the artists and upcoming gallery shows, plus some pretty funny videos.


4730 University Way NE 98105
206-985-1000
www.upperplayground.com

X-posted from Not For Tourists.

SXSW Film Review: Grace

The horror genre is a mixed bag. You have your intentionally humorous horror (Evil Dead II), your unintentionally humorous horror (Leeches) and your unintentionally, irredeemably horrible horror (Cabin Fever). But there’s a smaller sub-genre which is, in my opinion, superior: The Dramatic Horror film. Included in this sub-genre are films like Rosemary’s Baby, 28 Weeks Later, Repulsion, King of the Ants, and the Devil’s Rejects. These are films which, while sometimes containing supernatural elements, are rooted very strongly in reality. They are devoid of cliches and often feel completely plausible. And that is why they are so damned scary.

Grace falls into the latter category. Unfortunately for the film (and the unsuspecting audience), most people won’t know that going in. This is not a campy horror film. There are no cheesy one-liners (Save one at the end…Which I’m convinced a producer insisted on including). This is a seriously, utterly horrifying film. And I absolutely loved it.

It tells the story of a woman named Madeline who, after losing both her unborn baby and her husband in a car accident, decides to carry her dead fetus to full term. Miraculously, her stillborn child comes back to life. But Madeline soon learns that breast milk will not sustain her special child. She needs blood…human blood. A zombie baby! Sounds hilarious, doesn’t it? Well, it’s not.

The antagonist of this film is Madeline’s mother-in-law, Vivian. She is a closed-minded control freak who blames Madeline for the death of her son and is determined to take Grace away. When we meet Vivian at the beginning of the film, she is picking at the vegan dinner which Madeline has made and asking if tofu can provide enough nutrition for a gestating baby. Everything she says to her daughter-in-law is condescending and/or insulting. Madeline gracefully ignores her. She knows what her baby needs. She doesn’t trust doctors, opting for natural home-birth. Her husband complies with his wife’s decisions but never defends Madeline to his mother either. So it’s no wonder that Madeline feels she needs to carry Grace to term. She needs to meet the only person who would love her unconditionally. Even if that person is dead.

I became intimately aware of the horrors of miscarriage after watching Lynn Shelton’s revelatory documentary The Clouds That Touch Us Out of Clear Skies. She tells the very personal and detailed stories of the miscarriages of several women including her own. It’s profoundly devastating. And it’s not exactly over quickly. After the child dies in utero, the mother still must give birth. The first time they meet their child, it is dead. This is a real-life horror. And it happens more often than you think.

Grace is filmed from that perspective. The most intense scene comes when Madeline gives birth with the aid of her midwife and doula. The pain of childbirth is usually countered with purpose. At the end of the pain will come the joy of a new life. But not this time. No one in that birthing pool expects the pain to end. The professionals can’t offer any words of encouragement. Tears stream down everyone’s faces.

The midwife pulls the blue baby out of the bloody water and hesitates when Madeline asks to hold her. But she complies and leaves the mother to say goodbye to her child. However, there is no goodbye. Madeline nurses her newborn and the blue cheeks turn to pink. Grace is alive. Everything is fine.

But everything is not fine. The baby is sick. Though she is hungry, she can’t keep breast milk down. Madeline soon learns what the baby really needs. There are no cheesy zombie prosthetics on little Grace. She is a normal, pink baby. Who needs to drink blood. And though Madeline is a vegan, she is willing to comply.

As Madeline struggles to keep her baby healthy, Vivian plots to have Grace taken away so that she can raise her. At the post film Q&A, an audience member asked about the “clear anti-vegetarian message” of the film. The director corrected him. He said he had no political message. He was just showing different perspectives. I wonder how someone can interpret the film as anti-vegetarian when we see the nefarious lengths that Vivian, a staunch meat-and-potatoes proponent, will go to in order to steal her grandchild. If there is a message it’s that every child is different. There’s no one correct parenting ideology. If the mother listens to her baby, she will learn what the baby needs and it will thrive.

But mostly, Grace parallels one of the greatest horror films of all time, Rosemary’s Baby. At its core, it’s about how a mother will do anything to preserve the life of her child, even if she suspects what she is doing is wrong. Even at the cost of her own well-being. Like parenthood, Grace is all at once frightening and beautiful. And it’s not for the faint of heart.

Hotter with a Beard: SXSW Edition

Thanks to beard prevalence, SXSW 09 was much sexier than in past years. 2009 is definitely the Year of the Beard.


Not a full beard, but it has potential. And a rock star to boot!


Beard vs. beard.


And a snazzy dresser!


Hands off, ladies. This one’s all mine.