Shade Cafe / Restaurant / Bistro (***½)

Posted on March 2nd, 2004 in Houston,Restaurant Reviews by mynagirl

Shade

250 W. 19th Street

Houston, Tx 77008

713 863 7500

You can tell when you enter a new restaurant if it’s helmed by a true restaurateur or a wannabe. This place is the real deal. We went to Shade for brunch this morning, and the entire experience was perfectly crafted, start to finish. It’s definitely going to be on the repeat list.

For starters, the restaurant is located in the old location of the Kaldi Cafe, next door to Edin and October Galleries on 19th in the heart of the heavy foot traffic antique-ing district. The space has been unrecognizeably transformed from Kaldi’s dilapidated corner-of-an-antiques-shop crumbliness to an airy, soft, Asian-inspired eatery that is easily prepared to compete with Houston’s nicest bistros. (Since I believe Shade is owned by the same person who runs the Daily Review on Lamar, this doesn’t surprise me — the Daily Review is one of Houston’s nicest bistros).

Brunch menu includes Gingerbread pancakes, a Fried Green Tomato and Bacon Sandwich, or Grilled Salmon with Basmati rice and a Roasted Red Pepper Sauce. Dinner menu offers appetizers such as grilled qual with steamed stir fry rice and orange infused hoisin sauce and entrees like Wasabi and Cucumber crusted red snapper in a vegetable stir fry with a ginger and red curry coconut sauce, and grilled marinated medallions of pork served with homemade ciabiatta bread and caprese salad.

Dawn of the Dead (**½)

Posted on March 2nd, 2004 in Movie Reviews by EngineerBoy

This weekend Mynagirl and I surveyed the movie scene looking for something we’d like to see. There are a lot of serious and/or meaningful and/or thought-provoking films out that we plan to see someday, but we’ve both been working our donkeys off at work and decided to opt for some escapist fare. Which brought us to Dawn of the Dead, the big-budget, Hollywood remake of the old George Romero zombie classic. We serendipitously hooked up with our friend Bruce, who is a bit of a horror-film-buff, and headed to the local Googolplex.

My expectations were that we would see a splattery, mindless zombie film, and that’s exactly what we got, with a bit more humor and touch more flair than I was expecting (but not much). For those of you who may not already know, the story follows the conventions of virtually every zombie film ever made, which consists of:

  1. Extraordinarily normal people go about their daily lives.
  2. People start turning into zombies.
  3. A cast of survivors quickly coalesce in some last-stand location with zombies right outside.
  4. There is friction among the survivors.
  5. People you like die.
  6. People you don’t like die.
  7. Dead people tend to come back to life as zombies, somehow surprising the people who have spent the last 45 minutes of screen time fighting off undead zombies.
  8. People wander off by themselves, even though that means death in zombie movies.
  9. The movie does not resolve itself until the verrrry end – in this case that means staying and sitting through the credits!

Two of the best things about this film are Sarah Polley as the plucky heroine and Ving Rhames playing the strong, smart, menacing type that he plays so well. The rest of the cast is also strong, surprisingly so for such a throwaway movie. The cynical side of me says that the producers were able to attract such heavy talent by telling potential cast members that this would be 28 Days Later with a bigger budget and a deeper message. So, they all signed up, shot their scenes, then the filmmakers went in the editing room, yoinked out the “message” parts, put in some slow-motion zombie head explosions and called it a “film”.

There are a couple of other ways that this “Dead” is different from previous incarnations. For one thing, the zombies here are quite speedy, as opposed to the stereotypical zombie from the past which attacked with the speed of a fast-growing mushroom. We also learn that zombies ignore dogs (although I shudder to think about the “table scraps”), and that infected women give birth to infected babies (yuck). We also learn that there are a lot of zombies who (to their detriment) look like Jay Leno, Burt Reynolds, and Rosie O’Donnell.

And while the new “Dead” is certainly gloppy, it’s not really scary. There are some tense moments where our survivors try to outrun the Zombie Olympic Track Team, and there are (of course) obligatory “shriek” cuts of zombies popping into frame when the music tells you to pretend that you least suspect it. The movie also manages to work in a nod to the fad-du-jour of Monster Garage-like vehicle transmogrification.

The movie also has a fair bit of humor. For example, there’s another survivor on the roof of a gun shop across the way, but they can only communicate with him via written placards and binoculars. This doesn’t prevent him from becoming a beloved member of the group, and it is subtly hilarious when we see him and Ving Rhames’ character playing chess via written signs, using a chess set themed after “The Alamo”. The soundtrack also has a hilarious rendition of the song “Down with the Sickness” done Sinatra-style with lyrics like “C’mon, c’mon get down with the sickness…open up your hate and let it flow into me…” as we watch scenes of zombie carnage.

So, all in all it was an enjoyable moviegoing experience that exceeded our expectations just a bit. If you really want to see a well-done, scary, thought-provoking zombie film, go watch the vastly superior 28 Days Later. If you want a creepy gorefest, check out the original Night of the Living Dead or Dawn of the Dead. But, if you want a reasonably entertaining film that’s in current release so that you can sit in the dark for a couple of hours and eat popcorn and have a soda and walk out feeling that you haven’t been ripped off, you might want to check out the current version of Dawn of the Dead.

Chatter’s Cafe and Bistro (**)

Posted on March 2nd, 2004 in Restaurant Reviews by mynagirl

Chatter’s Cafe and Bistro

South Heights

Houston, Tx

Located in the old Star Pizza building on South Heights, the new owners have completely revamped the interior, aiming for an inviting “olde worlde” feel. A bar area fills out the area by the hostess stand at the entrance, and the beige-walled dining rooms are separated by a look-through area with antique bicycles and sideboards.

So far our two visits have been a bit uneven; I’m not sure whether to chalk it up to a new restaurant or a restaurant that isn’t destined to be long for this world. The menu is mediterrean-ish, with hummus served with pita points, chicken kebabs and basmati rice, and a variety of sandwiches. The hummus (we’ve had it both times and, truth be told, it was the hummus that brought us back for a second trip) was top-notch: freshly prepared with a wonderful, creamy texture, layered with olive oil and fresh strips of basil, served with warm pita bread. The other dishes there have ranged from bad (a watery tomato basil soup) to okay (the chicken kebabs, but kinda underdone, which is scary for chicken) to pretty good (a walnut chicken salad sandwich and a philly cheesesteak sandwich).

The other factor that puts Chatter’s into the “maybe” pile for me is that it has the hallmarks of a family-owned establishment trying to save here and there on cost. Both times we’ve been there have been too many wait staff for how few patrons there were at the time (although we’ve driven by other times and seen a packed parking lot, so go figure). The waiters and waitresses all seem very inexperienced, not like “career” waitstaff; you can tell when someone is still learning how to balance a tray of food. When I ordered a sandwich and it arrived on a different type of bread than I had expected and I asked, “doesn’t this come on pita bread?”, I got a pretty snippy, “No it doesn’t,” in reply. I’d expect a little smoother of a response from someone who’d been a waiter for a longer period of time, or maybe it’s just that the guy was related to the owner and didn’t really fear for losing his job.

My final “maybe” factor with Chatter’s (and this is really a deciding factor for me on picking out where I’m going to eat), is that the chairs there are NOT PADDED. I guess I have a bony rear, but whenever we think about going back there I cringe because I don’t want to spend 40 minutes or more in discomfort on those murderously hard chairs. Dining out for me is about the entire experience — good food, decent wait staff, not too noisy / clattery, and a comfy, cozy, sit. There are very few restaurants where I’ll put up with uncomfortable chairs just because the food’s good. And if the food’s only mediocre and the chairs are bad? Forget it, location isn’t good enough to draw me in — there are too many good restaurants in Houston (and even near our house) for that.

Mynagirl’s Oscar Fashion Report for 76th Academy Awards (February 29, 2004)

Posted on February 2nd, 2004 in Fashion by mynagirl

Oscar 2006 Fashion Report

Click here for this year’s Oscar report!

Oscar 2004 Fashion Report Archive

This is last year’s Fashion Report. Click here for the 2005 Fashion Report!

 

Wow, one month less of planning and consultation with designers makes an awful lot of difference… the 2004 crop of Oscar dresses was quite disappointing. The best dress I saw was Melissa Rivers’ on the E! pre-game show! Next to hers was probably Jennifer Garner’s vintage Valentino in a gorgeous shade of dark coral… trim, classy, and perfectly paired with some heavy Byzantine gold bracelets and a gorgeous set of gold and crystal earrings.

 

Beyond those two standouts, everyone’s dress was ordinary or awful… mostly just ordinary! Just like at the Golden Globes, Catherine Zeta-Jones once again chose a dress that looked like a long skirt sewed onto a 1940’s swimsuit… she definitely needs to try a more interesting neckline once in a while. Samantha Morton’s dress was more memorable, but the confused accessorization and strange dress just didn’t work. Liv Tyler looked cute and lithe in Givenchy (no surprise, since she’s a print model for them) but the 1940’s side-pin hair was a little overly weird.

 

The main trend was the blahness in beige… Charlize, bless her beautiful heart, looked gorgeous and radiant as always, but the beige sparkly Gucci was a tad uninspired. It could’ve been swapped out with Naomi Watts’ beige sparkly Versace and I don’t think anyone would’ve noticed. Patricia Clarkson’s way-too-close-to-flesh-toned Bill Blass column dress not only accentuated her way-too-close-to-underweight frame, it just didn’t really do anything for how classic her features are!! She’s such a beautiful woman, I wish she would’ve worn something red to match that deep red lipstick she can wear so well.

 

Renee Zellweger was more of a standout in an ice-cream-colored Carolina Herrera gown with a huge bow and train. Julia Roberts also looked elegant… she was also in beige Armani, but at least it was it was shimmery satin with some rhinestone accents. Not my favorite, but she was still radiant and lovely.

 

My least favorite outfits have to go to Marcia Gay Harden’s Star-Trek-gone-wrong violent blue pregnant frock with the strange bee hive hair helmet and Kelly Lynch’s fight with a light blue wrapping paper machine (Kelly lost). Dishonorable mention also goes to Uma Thurman’s diaphanous crumpled white mess with the weird blue belt.

 

All in all, I was hoping the E! pre-game predictions would come true… I was looking for spring colors: bright, fun dresses with a little dare and fun. Instead, everyone played it safe and boring… beige, pale, or black. Yawn! I guess I’ll have to wait for next year.

2003 Oscar Nominee (and Winner) List

Posted on February 2nd, 2004 in Entertainment by mynagirl

Best Supporting Actress

  • Patricia Clarkson, Pieces of April
  • Holly Hunter, Thirteen
  • Renée Zellweger, Cold Mountain
  • Shohreh Aghdashloo, House of Sand and Fog
  • Marcia Gay Harden, Mystic River

Best Supporting Actor

  • Tim Robbins, Mystic River
  • Benicio del Toro, 21 Grams
  • Ken Watanabe, The Last Samurai
  • Djimon Hounsou, In America
  • Alec Baldwin, The Cooler

Best Actress

  • Naomi Watts, 21 Grams
  • Samantha Morton, In America
  • Keisha Castle-Hughes, Whale Rider
  • Diane Keaton, Something’s Gotta Give
  • Charlize Theron, Monster

Best Actor

  • Ben Kingsley, House of Sand and Fog
  • Bill Murray Lost in Translation
  • Sean Penn, Mystic River
  • Jude Law, Cold Mountain
  • Johnny Depp, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl

Best Director

  • Peter Weir, Master and Commander: Far Side of the World
  • Peter Jackson, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
  • Kátia Lund and Fernando Meirelles, City of God
  • Clint Eastwood, Mystic River
  • Sofia Coppola, Lost in Translation

Best Original Screenplay

  • Steven Knight, Dirty Pretty Things
  • Denys Arcand, The Barbarian Invasions
  • Andrew Stanton, Bob Peterson, and David ReynoldsFinding Nemo
  • Jim Sheridan, Naomi Sheridan, and Kirsten Sheridan, In America
  • Sofia Coppola, Lost in Translation

Best Adapted Screenplay

  • Shari Springer Berman & Robert Pulcini, American Splendor
  • Peter Jackson, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
  • Bráulio Mantovani, City of God
  • Brian Helgeland, Mystic River
  • Gary Ross, Seabiscuit

Best Animated Feature

  • The Triplets of Belleville
  • Brother Bear
  • Finding Nemo

Best Picture

  • Lost in Translation
  • Seabiscuit
  • Master and Commander: Far Side of the World
  • Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
  • Mystic River

David Letterman: This Thinking Person’s Talk Show Host

Posted on January 5th, 2004 in Commentary,Television by EngineerBoy

When I was a younger man I regularly watched Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show. Then, one day, a new show came on after Carson…Late Night with David Letterman. I watched it a few times…it was sort of weird, and the host was a gap-toothed former weatherman from Indiana with a very skewed, strange sense of humor, an acerbic manner, and a very low tolerance for self-important celebrities and BS, which was a very new (and seemingly counter-intuitive) concept for a talk show host.

He did strange things, like drop stuff off of buildings, run over stuff with steamrollers, and he put on a Velcro suit (and used a trampoline to launch himself up and stick to a wall), a suit of suet (and went into an enclosure and let birds feed off of him), and a suit of Alka Seltzer (and was lowered into a tank of water). He did segments from the perspective of his dog Bob, and he strapped cameras to monkeys and let them run loose in the studio. He had the show’s writers and crew members, who were obviously not polished performers, participate in skits and segments with varying (but almost always funny) results. He had weird recurring segments that only became funny after several repetitions, like “Camping with Barry White”, where the R&B legend would be onstage in a mocked-up campsite, and Dave would join him and get sage outdoor advice. It was weird, it was funny, and it was un-Carson-like.

And I found that I began watching Letterman more regularly than Carson. It eventually became obvious that Johnny was winding down, only hosting a few times a week, and although he was one of the greatest talk show hosts of all time, you could tell he had hit the wall and was just going through the motions. Meanwhile Dave was getting funnier, smoother (for Dave), and more creative. It looked like a shoe-in for Dave to take over the Tonight Show, as he was the natural heir to the late-night throne.

Changing of the Guard

At this point Jay Leno had been installed as Johnny’s permanent guest host, and his ratings were good. Jay was (and is) one of the great stand-up comedians, and he seems like one of the few genuinely nice people in show business. When Johnny finally announced his retirement, NBC was faced with a decision — Jay or Dave. As we all know, they picked Jay, so then Dave moved to CBS to go head-to-head with Jay. I followed Dave over to CBS, but I also would check out Jay from time to time, since I was a fan of his stand-up comedy.

And what I found was that Jay usually had a strong opening monologue, and it was usually longer than Dave’s, and often funnier, in a “stand-up comedy” sense. However, Dave’s monologues were usually wittier and more sublime/absurd, as opposed to punchline/rimshot funny. And for me, ultimately, Dave’s sensibilities stood the test of time and also held my attention and my interest. Jay’s monologues feel like they would be more accessible to sporadic viewers or (and I don’t mean this as an insult) those who just want to have a couple of laughs before bedtime, but don’t really want to have to think too much, or track details over time, or feel they aren’t “in” on the humor because they aren’t regular viewers.

And that’s a real concern with Dave’s show. His humor is a combination of things that are immediately funny, things that are funny only if you know the whole back-story, things that are funny only if you think about them for a while, things that are only funny if you watch the show regularly (and pay attention), and things that are funny only if you have a sense of the absurd. For example, at least once or twice a week Letterman is sure to make a Clinton/Lewinsky joke or reference. Now, if you are an occasional viewer seeing one of these jokes, you may think that you’ve tuned into a *very* old rerun, but what you’re really seeing is a bit that has been played out over years and years and now has a subtle wit to it, even though the actual jokes themselves are usually low-hanging fruit.

And “On Cape” Tonight…

Another recurring bit is that the band will play a song (I Love You More Than You’ll Ever Know by Blood, Sweat, and Tears), and Paul Shaffer will perform the vocals as they go to commercial. Then after a couple of commercials we come back to the show, and Paul will step out from behind the keyboards, go to the middle of the stage, grab a handheld mic, and do a *very* melodramatic couple of bars of the song, ending up on his knees on stage in faux exhaustion (a la James Brown). At this point someone (famous) will come onstage with a cape, wrap it around Paul, and console him as they lead him offstage, since it is obvious that there’s no way he can continue, given his state. However, Paul refuses to leave the stage, and throws off the cape and returns to his keyboards, causing the cape-bearer to stare after him, sadly shaking their head in mock pity at how hard Paul is working, and how heroic his effort is to continue the song, even though he is (pretending to be) exhausted. Here is a partial list of people who have appeared “on cape”:

George Stephanopoulos

Greg KinnearThe show then returns to commercials, and when we come back the band finishes the song, and Dave thanks whomever was on cape. They come out and take a bow, and that’s it. They don’t get to talk. They don’t come sit by Dave. They don’t get to plug their latest project. In fact, in many cases the person “on cape” doesn’t really have anything to plug, and seems to be doing it just to do it. The occasional viewer might end up asking themselves what the hell was that??? when they see an unlisted, uncredited, unannounced celebrity of the stature of a Bill Murray or a Jane Pauley just come out to do some weird little shtick with no PR upside. The occasional viewer might get excited that the person “on cape” will be interviewed, but then be disappointed when they take a bow and leave. The occasional viewer (as well as the regular viewer) might see somebody who is not instantly recognizable (like George Stephanopoulos) come out “on cape” and ask themselves who the hell is that??? and have to wait to find out until the show comes back from commercial.

Tim Robbins

Don Rickles

Donald Trump

Whoopi Goldberg

Al Franken

Jack Black

John Malkovich

Jane Pauley

Marv Albert

Bill Murray

Kareem Abdul Jabbar

James Earl Jones

 

It’s one of those bits that, again, may be confusing and even irritating at first, that may even seem stupid after a couple of times, but over the years it develops into something sublime and enjoyable. When Marie and I hear the opening notes of the song we cannot wait to see who might be on cape. It’s one of those things that makes us smile (because of how absurd it is), and sometimes laugh (at the varying effectiveness of the emoting of those “on cape”), but it only works because we’ve seen it so many times that we “get it”. There’s no punchline, no setup, no dialogue, no “joke” of any kind, but it sure is funny and entertaining. This bit is a microcosm of what makes Dave’s show funny.

The list of these strange little humorous bits goes on and on, and I will not belabor this article by describing them all in detail, but they include Will It Float?, Is This Anything?, Potatoes or Gavin MacLeod?, Know Your Current Events, visits with Rupert Jee (owner of the “Hello Deli” next door to the Ed Sullivan Theater), sending pizza to the strippers at the joint across the street, dressing staffers in costumes and seeing if they can hail a cab on Broadway, etc, etc, etc. It’s all very weird and strange, but also funny and absurd.

Absurdity And Wit Are The Keys

And that really sums up the differences between Jay and Dave, for me. Dave is absurd and witty, while Jay is humorous and funny. I have met many people in my life who are missing the absurdity gene, and will classify anything that isn’t ha-ha funny as “stupid”. Monty Python and the Holy Grail is stupid, The Simpsons is stupid, the stand-up comedy of Steve Martin is stupid, anything that isn’t clearly a “joke” with a “punchline” is stupid. And I find that these same people almost always dislike the Letterman show. Dave is “rude” and “stupid”, where Jay is “nice” and “funny”. But to me, Dave is a witty and incisive interviewer, while Jay is content to lob scripted, softball questions and straight lines to his guests. Dave is absurd, witty, and sarcastic, where Jay is funny and sometimes a bit mean-spirited. And the Letterman show, while always building on tried-and-true bits, also seems unafraid to push the envelope and experiment with things that they’re not always sure will work. This feels especially true since Dave’s bypass operation, and it seems that he returned with renewed vigor and fearlessness, and the show feels more like his old NBC show (brasher, funnier, more creative).

And, finally, the birth of Dave’s son has given him a more grounded, earthy feel. It’s been pretty amazing to hear him talk about his son, and to watch him be simultaneously humbled, awed, and inspired by parenthood. Dave had always been just a touch too arrogant for my tastes (said the pot to the kettle), but parenthood seems to have dialed that down a notch or two to a more accessible level (but without making him an Arsenio-like star-butt-kisser). I’d be willing to bet that Dave is on his way back to the top of the late-night ratings, but I’d never do that because I know it is only an exhibition, it is not a competition, so please, no wagering.

Golden Globes Fashion Report 2004

Posted on January 2nd, 2004 in Fashion by mynagirl

Click here for the CURRENT YEAR’S Golden Globes Report

This is the 2004 report.

Classy:

  • Reba McEntire in a beautiful black number, low cut but unfussy
  • Alicia Silverstone in a boatnecked black sheath with a bit of a cutaway, paired with gorgeous chandelier earrings
  • Charlize Theron in pale yellow ruffles
  • The always her own style icon Gwen Stefani in a pale white column with a bow at the waist
  • The golden Uma Thurman in azure blue satin ruffles
  • Bill Murray with the close-cropped white beard and a classy suit

Unimpressive:

  • Mary Louise Parker’s black velvet low cut strapped dress
  • Renee Zellwegger’s blue and black cocktail dress
  • Sarah Jessica Parker in a horrific charcoal sequined explosion
  • Catherine Zeta-Jones in a boring blank tank dress

Yuck:

  • J-Lo in a persimmon Grecian shift with horrible pale gold lamé (leather?) straps
  • Megan Mullally’s unflattering tight and unadorned coffee-colored dress
  • Nicole Kidman’s horrifyingly indescribable skinned mermaid number with freaky gold-headband hair
  • Sting’s sparse chest hair and pendant necklace (although his wife looked nice)
  • Johnny Depp’s overly Johnny Depp’ed outfit with the hat, messy hair, and the glasses

American Idol (***)

Posted on January 2nd, 2004 in American Idol by EngineerBoy

“There’s Simon Cowell, who folks wanna disembowel, he opens his mouth, always says something foul, they’re dyin’, wow, wannabes are cryin’ now, he votes ’em off, time to throw in the towel” — from “Couch Potato” by Weird Al Yankovich

This is the third season of American Idol. Until recently I had been snidely proud of the fact that I had never watched one single episode of any reality TV series. I even averted my eyes in disdain/disgust from commercials for reality shows.

But no longer. Three nights ago, purely out of curiosity, we (well me, but then Mynagirl got interested, too) tuned into the season premiere of American Idol. Then two nights ago we watched the second installment. Then last night we watched the third. Tonight we are lamenting that we have to wait until next week to see more. We’re hooked.

There had only been three shows that had hooked us in recent memory. Alias, 24, and anything related to poker. Now there are four. We put American Idol on a TiVo Season Pass, which is the highest compliment we can pay to a show. Is it Tuesday yet??

Mea Culpa
There are very few occasions when I am this wrong about how much I would like something. For example, I was sure that I would hate the movies Nine to Five and Moulin Rouge, but I loved them. Also, when the TV series Friends was in its fourth or fifth year, I worked with a group of folks who loved it. Loved it. I had never seen an episode, but I could tell from what I knew about the show that there was no way I could ever care about, nor be amused by, the cavorting and canoodling of six young Manhattanites. I was quite disdainful, mocking the show and my cow-orkers inexplicable interest in it to no end. Now I love the show, love the characters, know their life stories, care about what happens to them, and regret mocking my former cow-orkers. Could I be any more sorry?

And now add American Idol to the list. I don’t specifically recall ever making fun of the show to any fans, or mocking anyone for liking it, but I’m sure that I did, and I must say that I apologize. I have always known the shtick of the show…go to different cities and have wannabes try out in a singing contest, bring the finalists together and let the people choose. The finalists are selected by a panel of judges: Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson. The whole thing is taped and the highlights of the tryouts and the finals are televised.

And in watching the first three episodes this season, I’ve discovered what Idol fans have always known, which is that the tryouts are grueling, funny, painful, and inspiring. They condense the highlights of the tryouts of a particular city down to a one hour broadcast, but it’s clear that the process lasts much longer, and that the three judges sit and watch/listen to hundreds contestant. They then vote on if they make it to the next round, and a simple majority wins, so you only have to convince two of the three judges. The contestants are a VERY mixed bag, with some so talentless that you know the Idol producers allowed them to audition simply for the entertainment value of their awfulness.

In fact, that’s probably my only objection to the show, at this point. The talent coordinators, who screen the thousands of wannabes down to the few hundred who actually perform for the judges, let through quite a few talentless weirdoes, apparently for the simple reason that there’s entertainment value in watching their painful performances. It’s a bit off-putting, however, to hear the judges then lambaste these contestants for “wasting everyone’s time”, but the truth is that it’s the show itself who allows them to consume screen time, and if the judges should be yelling at anyone it should be at their own talent coordinators. To me, the show is interesting enough without having to manufacture embarrassment and outrage in this fashion.

Broken Dreams
The most excruciating part of the show is watching the contestants who have a small modicum of ability, but somehow have magnified their “not-sucking” into “my-talent-is-my-ticket-to-the-top”. These people walk in fully expecting that the time of their discovery is finally at hand, and with complete confidence and joy step in front of the judges and croak out their auditions. The judges, particularly Simon, don’t always soften the blow, and in these auditions you actually witness the dashing of dreams. The sad truth is that if most of these folks had spent 30 minutes with a tape recorder and actually LISTENED to themselves, they would not have had such outsized confidence in their own abilities. But dreams die hard, and many of these people stalk out of the auditions and into the post-game interviews convinced that the judges are making a mistake, and you can feel that they’re going to go right back after their dreams with their drive undiminished. It’s actually awe-inspiring and heart-breaking at the same time.

There’s also a subset of contestants who can sing, but seem to feel the need to obscure that fact by doing something stupid like performing magic, singing nonsense songs, dressing strangely, and/or attempting complicated choreography. Some contestants walk in with a bad attitude, such as one young man who, when the judges were chatting with him before his audition and asked if he were excited, basically said that no, he wasn’t. When the judges prompted him for more information, and gently tried to lead him to at least admit that he cared about the contest, he became more and more surly, in that pseudo-tough teen way, to the point where the judges dismissed him without even letting him sing. I can’t say that I disagreed with them.

Great TV
All these ingredients add up to some very entertaining television. You never really know what’s going to happen next, such as a dissatisfied contestant dousing Simon with a glass of water, people refusing the leave the stage and continuing to sing even after the judges have left, and, finally, people who can sing. Really sing. One contestant began her audition, sang for about 10 seconds, and was immediately passed through to the next round because she clearly had the pipes for it. The judges are entertaining, and in most cases attempt to give the contestants constructive feedback. Simon can, of course, be a bit quick with the insults, but after watching the parade of semi-talented contestants, along with their penchant for disputing the opinion of these obviously qualified judges, I can certainly understand him getting snippy. Especially when I realize that they sit through hundreds and hundreds of these auditions, which must be nerve-wracking. It even got to the point where the judges were sniping at each other.

And the primary thing about the show that differs from my preconceptions is that it all feels very real. Yes, the coordinators occasionally stack the deck with talentless ringers, but for the most part the auditions, the judges reactions, and the contestants post-game interviews all ring very true. These people are, in most cases, putting their very sense of self up for judgment, because they think “I Am A Singer”. When they have that affirmed, their joy is unbridled and contagious. When they have it rejected, their dejection is palpable, but not unfair.

American Idyll
So I’ll be there next Tuesday night, couch-potato-ing my way through another episode along with millions of other viewers (including Mynagirl). I freely and humbly admit that I was wrong about this show, and consider my change-of-heart to be one more humbling lesson on the road of life. Two weeks ago I would have told you, unequivocally, that I would never, EVER, be taken in by the obvious parlor tricks of this show. But now this old dog is a new American Idol fan.

New Year’s Evening Out: Soul Circus / Soundtrack at the Mercury Room

Posted on January 2nd, 2004 in Commentary,Houston by mynagirl

So, Mynagirl and Engineerboy head out on the town for New Year’s Eve for a little food and dancing at The Mercury Room. I always fancy a chance to dress up sparkly, and Scott very gamely plays along… plus, Soul Circus was the band at Mercury Room, and they are our absolute favorite live band that we’ve heard in Houston.

The Fashion Report for the evening included a Carmen Marc Valvo dress with two layers of silk chiffon covered by a layer of beaded lace paired with a trusty set of Stuart Weitzmans and some new Christmas earrings, plus a sequined flower in the hair. The dress was actually very comfortable, and molto bene for dancing… quite twirly! Scott wore a Tallia Uomo suit with a DKNY dress shirt and a tone-on-tone Ermenegildo Zegna tie. (Ok, maybe none of you care, but I put this article in the Mynagirl category and I’m pretending I write for W magazine, so there. Author’s prerogative).

After dinner, we navigated to the Mercury Room with what I would consider perfect timing: about 10:15 pm. Not old-person early, but shouldn’t be too packed, right? We take the southern path through downtown, cleverly skipping the carcrawl through clubville and whisking our car straight up to the… uh oh… nonexistent valet stand at the Mercury Room. I guess Merc Room gave it up on NYE because of the crowds, so our clever strategy was completely hosed. Twenty minutes and a complete circuit of the clubgoer-packed streets later (well, it was fascinating people watching) we circle back around to the parking lot with a … cough … $40 parking fee.

Scooching across the misting streets, we (thankfully) got to get right in the door because we’d bought tickets in advance (we weren’t gonna risk missing Soul Circus). The band was already in full swing, playing some great funk tunes already! We went straight for the dance floor: Superstitious, Brick House, very rockin’ stuff. The band confused us a bit by telling us they were called Soundtrack, then announcing themselves as Soul Circus and then Soundtrack again… but we recognized most of the people on the stage and the quality of the music was definitely up to par, so we had no complaints.

The band took their first break pretty quickly after we arrived, and the club became pretty smoke filled and packed after that. One of my favorite things about the Mercury Room (not that we’ve gone to many different nightclubs in Houston — we pretty much found that place and we’ve stayed with a good thing since then) is the mixed crowd: couples in their 40’s and 50’s in from the suburbs, young hipsters, gaggles of gorgeous girls on the prowl, and at least one May/December where the December was in her laaaate 40’s and the May was in his 20’s with a satin shirt open to his navel, no lie (“It’s not sexy to scrub for the customer!”). The DJ music was pretty okay, some 50 Cent and other rap I wasn’t cool enough to recognize, but the band’s break seemed to go on way too long. We spent a while drinking and people watching, stamping our feet waiting for the band to get going again and trying to avoid the smokers.

Soundtrack/Soul Circus did eventually get jamming again, playing some other good tunes: Kiss (the Prince tune) as well as the Gloria Gaynor estrogen-friendly sing-along I Will Survive. The dance floor got packed with gropers, drinkers, and smokers, and as the midnight hour approached the band made some uneven tempo choices; the reggae Stir It Up was something less than a crowd-whipping frenzy just before midnight. I must be getting old, because the amount of smoke in the club was really getting to me, too… not just the physical amounts I was inhaling (I was “hung over” and raspy the next morning, despite having only had one alchoholic drink all evening) but the overwhelming fact is that it strikes me as so rude to just stink up the air around you like that. If the club had segregated the cigarette smokers the way they did the cigar smokers or if there had been fewer smokers, we probably would’ve stayed much longer (and spent much more money at the bar there). As is was, however, all those camels pretty much broke my back and Scott and I were both more than ready to dash out of there after the midnight smooch.

We wrapped up the evening with a pleasant 1 am breakfast at Biba’s with some friends, bs’ing about movies and snacking on French toast. It was a great way to wind down. I would’ve loved to stay dancing longer but just couldn’t last at the club. All in all it was a great way to ring in the new year, however, even if we are getting a little too old (and cranky) to stay out with all the young ones at the smoky nightclubs.

The Hustler (****)

Posted on January 1st, 2004 in Movie Reviews by EngineerBoy

Mynagirl and I went to see The Hustler last night on the big screen at the Alamo Drafthouse here in Houston. You can read her review of the Alamo Drafthouse (which we both love) right here:

https://www.cleverdonkey.com/ViewArticle.asp?ID=116&Cat=Houston

I have seen The Hustler many times over the years, but never on the big screen, and Mynagirl had never seen the film before in any format. The print was a touch scratchy in places, but overall it was a wonderful experience. The film is very powerful and moody, shot in black-and-white, and almost all of the scenes are set in dank pool halls, dingy apartments, or dark flop houses. I am no fan of film noir, and moody black-and-white is usually an immediate turn-off for me. In my experience, many directors used the moody *look* of film noir to try to *set* the mood, rather than having the mood flow from the combination of plot, characters, sets, and cinematography. In The Hustler the mood is oppressively gray, but not just because it *looks* gray, but because of the grayness of the characters, their lives, their surroundings, and their actions.

Our protagonist is “Fast” Eddie Felson, an extraordinarily skilled pool hustler who has hit the felt ceiling on his way to the top. You see, Fast Eddie has a lot of skill, but at the beginning of the film he has not yet developed the temperament or intelligence necessary to consistently beat equally skilled players. Now, there are only handful of opponents in Fast Eddie’s class, and one of them is Minnesota Fats, the smooth, suave, un-rattle-able, undisputed best there is. Near the beginning of the film, Fast Eddie and Fats engage in a titanic, marathon contest, which ends just as it begins, with Fats as the best there is, and Eddie as a talented loser.

After reading thus far, you may think that this is a movie about shooting pool. It isn’t. Pool is merely the backdrop, the arena in which the male characters contest their manliness in the way that men do. The Hustler is the story of men who think that the arena is all there is to life. The men in this film have no lives outside the arena…no wives, no children, no jobs, no hobbies, no joy. They either compete at the tables, or bet on the outcome of other men’s competitions. The story of this movie is the story of Fast Eddie slowly learning that there’s more to life than shooting pool.

Fast Eddie is played to perfection by a young Paul Newman. Newman plays Fast Eddie as a charming rogue with a razor-sharp pool game. Fast Eddie wants nothing more or less out of life than to beat Minnesota Fats and be acknowledged as the best there is. When his first shot at Fats fails, Eddie starts a downward spiral, abandoning his longtime manager (and friend), and moving in with a woman with her own set of problems.

That woman is Sarah Packard, played by Piper Laurie. Sarah is an attractive, intelligent woman who does not need to work for a living, and so does nothing except attend school sporadically and drink diligently. You can see that with just the slightest of efforts Sarah could drastically improve her lot in life, but she doesn’t seem to care enough to try. She’s content to share her booze, her bed, her roof, and her depression with Eddie, and Eddie is content to take advantage of this damaged soul.

Eddie at least has enough drive to take another run at Fats, and he agrees to be managed by Bert Gordon, a successful, ruthless loan-shark/gambler. Bert Gordon is played by George C. Scott in a performance that could have been the prototype for Bruce the shark in Jaws. Bert is a winner, and he wins at all costs. His philosophy is (and I’m paraphrasing here) that life isn’t like football, where they pay you for yardage. Life is about the final score, and at the end of the day you count up the money, and whoever has the most is the winner. Period.

Bert recognizes the inherent talent in Eddie, and knows that he can exploit it to make a little action and a lot of money. However, as Eddie starts developing character, he also starts realizing that he is falling in love with Sarah. Bert understands that this new love will distract Eddie from his game, and so methodically tries to destroy the already fragile Sarah. He does this right in front of Eddie, but does it subtly, through smiling teeth, with little phrases and smiles and knowing glances. Eddie isn’t even aware of the subtext, but both Bert and Sarah understand that there is a contest going on for poor Eddie’s soul.

The finale of the movie involves another match between Fast Eddie and Minnesota Fats. Fats is played with stunning authority by the late, great Jackie Gleason. Fats is dapper and polite, completely cool at all times, even when utterly destroying his opponents. He is the best there is, and knows it, and knows that everybody else knows it, too. Every day he shows up at the same pool hall at the same time, sits in the same chair, reads his newspaper and waits without passion or fear for the next gunslinger to come along and try to take him. But they always lose, because the fat man has it all…talent, intelligence, character, and experience.

On his way to the final showdown, Fast Eddie loses it all. He splits with Bert Gordon, loses the girl, and is left with nothing but $3,000 and a burning desire to prove himself. He walks into Fats’ lair one last time, and challenges him to shoot pool for $3,000 a game. One loss and he’s out. Suffice it to say that at the end of the film there are no winners, but lessons have been learned.

Paul Newman, Jackie Gleason, Piper Laurie, and George C. Scott were all nominated for Oscars for their roles. The film was nominated for several other Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director, and ultimately won two golden statues and probably should have won Best Picture (which went to West Side Story). The Hustler is an amazing film, in that you don’t have to understand the game of pool to understand the games that are played, because the ultimate truths are not in the physics of the billiard balls, but in the actions and reactions of the characters. The lessons that Eddie learns are universal – don’t be consumed by material desires. Setbacks in material pursuits may be painful, but the true tragedy is a wasted life or love destroyed.

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