CleverDonkey.com …Musings, Commentary, Opinions, and Drivel

http://www.drafthouse.com

West Oaks Mall
Westheimer & Highway 6
Houston Texas
(281) 556-0204

The Alamo Drafthouse is what I’ve long hoped for in a movie theater: a place where I can go watch a first-run movie and also have a decent meal served to me while I watch. It’s pure heaven. I can’t even describe it. If you haven’t gone, GO! Seriously. I know it’s a schlep if you don’t live over on the West side, but it is WORTH it. I know you may think you know how great it would be to get your meal brought to you during a movie, but until you’ve experienced it, you just can’t know how wonderful it is.

We’ve been twice now, once for a first run flick (Kill Bill, Vol. I) and once for a classic film (The Hustler). Both times have proven that the Alamo knows what they’re doing. Seating opens 45 minutes before the show. The theater room is organized into rows of cushy captain’s chairs with groupings of narrow bar-style tables in front of the chair rows. We’ve gone early so that we can kibitz, order the majority of our food and drink, and then ease into the movie while we’re still eating. The wait staff is great; they explain the setup if you’ve never been, and they do a remarkable job of taking continuing orders / bringing refills after the show’s started without disturbing your enjoyment of the movie. Once the lights are out, orders are handled via paper clipped to the table with a minimum of whispering. They continue service throughout the movie, including bringing you popcorn (made with real butter!) if you’ve got room after eating a whole meal.

Alamo has expanded their concept beyond just movies; I know they do this same great theater and food concept for football (college and professional, I believe) and they have a “Mr. Sinus 3000” series that invites you to deride a ridiculous film in the company of other jeerers. (On our recent trip the promised make-fun-of show was Crossroads, Britney Spears’s road trip movie). The venue often offers more than just a movie for your admission price; when we went to see The Hustler the evening’s program included a 20-minute book reading from a local author who’d written a book on pool halls and 1960’s bachelor culture. We hadn’t really been expecting this facet to the event, but there were other patrons who’d clearly known that this was part of the whole deal and had bought a signed copy of the book before being seated.

The menu itself is wonderfully expansive while not being excessively foofy: burgers and fries (but the deliciously grilled burgers are served with chipotle mayo) but also veggie pizza, garden burgers, sandwiches on focaccia bread, and inventive salads. There’s also a decent beer and wine selection, a full bar with selections like homemade sangria and Italian sodas, and an extensive dessert and coffee menu. Appetizer choices include chips and queso, stuffed jalapenos, mozzarella sticks, and similar fare.

The entire experience is truly nothing short of wonderful, and if you’re a dinner-and-a-movie type, I highly encourage you to combine the two experiences and give the Alamo Drafthouse a try. Just wait until that first appetizer hits your table while you’re in your seat. You’ll think you’re in heaven, too.

• Leave a comment... (0)

Ragazza

920 Studemont

Houston TX 77007

713 864 3700

We’ve been meaning to try this place since it originally opened as The Rivendell, but the Rivendell closed down so quickly we never got a chance. The new joint, Ragazza, shows the hallmarks of being a vulturous re-incarnation — the strategy is that you let the other guy pour all the money into the fixtures and furnishings and opening the place, then let him spend but not recover enough money to keep the place open, and you then swoop in and set up your own shop at rock-bottom prices without even having to hire a decorator.

The location is a bit odd and may have contributed to the Rivendell’s tough time of it — it’s in the new strip center at the Southeast corner of Montrose and Washington. The neighborhood is definitely going upscale, with the new townhomes and nice apartment houses, but the décor of the restaurant aims a bit too high for a strip center restaurant… even a nice, new, stucco strip center. Even in non-zoned Houston, where eclectic is the name of the game, a stand-alone structure is usually an easier sell than the corner shop at a non-established retail center next to an eyeglass place.

Although the place looked uninviting from the outside (the wood blinds are drawn against the late afternoon sunshine), once inside, Ragazza’s ambiance was very cozy and welcoming on a quiet Thursday evening after work. The ambiance is sort of James Bond ski lodge: pale yellow walls, exposed stone pillars, and really nice cushy half-moon booths for good conversation. As I mentioned, the place definitely aims for upscale: a baby grand piano is just inside the entrance, and waiter was crisply dressed and quite attentive.

After having eaten and paid for an entire meal there, however, I have to say that Ragazza has the feel like they swooped in to buy the upscale restaurant space but they’re not ready (or they don’t have the funding to be) a restaurant at the level that they or their prices aim to be. Please keep in mind that while I’ve worked in several restaurants throughout my life, they were places like “Goodall’s Country Restaurant” and “Goofy’s”… I’m no real expert on white linen cuisine, although a four-year stint in consulting and the fact that I do like to eat has turned me in to something of an aficionado of eating out. Engineerboy, however, has some experience with the business side of finer dining, and so my case before you is based on both our perceptions and conversation about the meal.

Our meal consisted of:

Italian bread with dipping sauce

Glass of Pinot Grigio (for me)

Shrimp bisque

Mushroom Ravioli with Grilled Shrimp

Meal total, before tip: $57

Sorry, I should be able to tell you we each ordered a different appetizer and main dish, but we didn’t; how boring is that?!

First off, the service was excellent; they’re definitely hitting the mark in that category. But the rest of the meal is where I feel they don’t live up to what they promise when you walk in the door and with the prices you see on the menu. The complimentary bread was tasty but served in a tiny bowl and not refilled unless asked. The dipping sauce was olive oil with spices — good but it would benefit it if they would go the extra step to use fresh garlic instead of garlic paste or garlic powder. We both agreed the bisque was ordinary, barely a notch above a canned soup. It wasn’t horrible, maybe a canned tomato soup base made with a heavy cream, and the shrimp chunks in it were of a decent size, definitely fresh grilled shrimp. But it was overly peppered, no more subtle flavors thrown in there. I definitely didn’t taste the sherry accent that was promised on the menu. The mushroom ravioli was tasty in a yummy cream sauce, but Scott didn’t think his pasta was quite hot enough (I didn’t notice anything wrong with mine, temperature-wise, so I guess mine were fine). And the mushrooms inside just seemed to be ordinary mushrooms, nothing more exotic or woodsy woven in the dish for extra flavor.

With all the dining choices in Houston, it seems to me that Ragazza, for $57 before tip, should have given their dishes that extra little bit of zip, love, creativity, spice, or whatever to live up to the fancy décor, the great waitstaff, and the mid-market prices. Otherwise they’re going to have trouble doing any better than Rivendell, and we might yet live to see their successor… The Ravenswood.

• Leave a comment... (0)

There are people who really enjoy socializing, there are people who merely tolerate it, and there are those who dislike it. I am in the latter category. It’s not that I dislike people, particularly, it’s just that it takes tremendous effort for me to make small talk and be “sociable”. I’m not socially awkward, or anything, and am pretty personable when I put my mind to it. But that’s the issue…I spend my workdays with my professional face on, and the last thing I want to do with my leisure time is put on my sociable face. I want to relax and be myself. And there is a very small circle of people around whom I’m comfortable doing that, and (more importantly) whom are comfortable around me in that mode.

You see, my basic nature is that I’m a surly, sarcastic curmudgeon. I feel that being myself in “socializing” situations is not appropriate, so I have to sort of tone it down and be a bit more sociable, and this takes effort and concentration, so socializing is not relaxing for me in any way. Now, my family knows me and understands that with them I’m all bark and no bite, and don’t take any of my curmudgeonliness seriously (because it’s not meant seriously).

Alone <> Lonely

Also, when I’m not with my close circle of friends/family, I’m very comfortable with my own company. I *like* solitude. In fact, when I’m not with my inner circle, I prefer to be by myself. I know that there are people who are energized and recharged by spending time with people, but I am the opposite. I find time alone to be soothing and rejuvenating, and time spent with non-close friends and acquaintances to be a draining chore. That’s not a reflection in any way on people in general, and does not indicate that I find the individuals themselves to be draining chores. It’s just that I will invariably prefer to spend my time with my inner circle or alone rather than with someone with whom I am not close.

You see, I have come to the conclusion that my available time is divided between four primary categories – Career, Life Maintenance, Family/Leisure Time, and Social Obligations.

Career – I spend a lot of time on my career, but I am fortunate in that I can bring a fair portion of it home and do not have to be chained to my desk to be effective. And in our house there is a routine that the time after work is sort of unstructured, but most evenings includes the whole family at the dining table working on stuff at a sort of a low-intensity, while also interacting and playing things by ear. So, the work at home doesn’t consist of being locked away working intensely and hoping to not be “disturbed”. After-work time is a bouillabaisse of working, talking, watching TV, cleaning, playing with the dogs, kanoodling, kibbitzing, knoshing, etc. So, the nice thing about my career is that I can work hard at it without abandoning my family life.

Life Maintenance – Life Maintenance is stuff like cleaning, cooking, home repairs, paying bills, haircuts, yard work, renewing driver’s licenses, getting the car inspected, grocery shopping, doctor/dentist visits, etc. Trust me when I tell you that I expend the minimum amount of time on these activities as is humanly possible while still *having* a life to maintain.

Family/Leisure time – This is the category that I try to maximize, while still having a career and a life that’s organized enough to be livable. However, I *have* to do the first two (Career, Life Maintenance) to be able to have Family/Leisure time. We don’t have a lavish lifestyle, but neither are we independently wealthy. we have to earn our own money, and we can’t afford to pay others to organize our life.

Social Obligations – So, after all of the above, the “Social Obligation” category gets the short shrift from me. The combination of being low on my priority list plus being something that I do not enjoy means that I spend as little time as possible on Social Obligations. Now, Mynagirl and TheGIRL are both more social than I am, so we compromise on a mutually acceptable amount of socializing, but it’s not something that I seek to do on my own.

We Are Family

Most importantly, I love every moment I spend with my wife and daughter, and prefer spending time with them over just about anything else in this world. And that is not a canned platitude for this column, that’s the literal truth. I like playing golf, but not enough to give up 1/4 of my precious weekend time away from my family on a regular basis. I like going to the movies, but it’s only worth it to me if it’s a family activity. In fact, I can’t comprehend people who feel the need to “get away” from their families, for some reason. How sad that must be. Nothing makes me happier than having unstructured, footloose time at home.

For example, over Christmas we spent hours playing poker, which Mynagirl and The G-I-R-L are just learning, and we had a blast. We played for chips, not money, and spent the whole time talking and laughing and joking and just being together. I cannot think of any way to spend my time that I would enjoy more than just being with them playing cards (or doing whatever).

My Blind Spot

I know it’s not a zero-sum game where you either spend time solely with your inner circle or you are a social butterfly. I’m sure there are people who feel exactly like I do about their close friends and family, but then also enjoy socializing with semi-strangers (for lack of a better term). And that’s something I just cannot comprehend. I mean, I know people who like sushi, which I loathe, but I can understand them liking it, because it’s fresh and clean and healthy and interesting.

But I cannot fathom the desire to spend time with semi-strangers. If I could interview a social butterfly, I’d have so many questions. How can you possibly care about the stories or problems or opinions of semi-strangers? You socialize with them for the most random of reasons, such as they work in your office, or hang out at the same bar, or belong to the same gym, or live in your neighborhood. Are you so desperate for companionship or attention that the company of Random Person Number #37 is fulfilling? Are you so non-selective that these random people seem like good friend-candidates simply because they are right there in front of you?

”You know, Bob sits in the cube right next to mine. Gosh, I hope he’ll be best man at my wedding!”insert names of people whose names you won’t even remember in five years

“Hey, Mary gets her nails done at the same shop as me. I should tell her all the true feelings that I keep inside and don’t tell my husband or family!”

“Well, I know that I’ve been working late all week, and haven’t seen my family, but I think I’d like to spend Saturday golfing with .”

“My wife is feeling a little self-conscious about her weight lately. I think I’ll respond to that by sneaking off to a strip club with my Neanderthal friends.”

“Jane lives in the same building as me. That fills me with such strong feelings of sisterhood that I know we’ll be friends forever!”

Now, those are slightly over-simplified exaggerations, but only slightly. To me, the actions of social butterflies basically look like the above. Suffice it to say that I don’t understand what drives social butterflies, and I’m old enough and set enough in my thoughts and ways that I never will.

Caveat Rantor

All of the above being said, I do have one point of clarification – if you are new in your town or single or just looking for a new set of friends, I totally understand wanting to socialize and mingle and try new folks on for size. The things I am talking about here don’t apply to people in that situation. What I don’t understand is people who HAVE close friends and HAVE a family and a full life but STILL willfully choose to make the time to regularly socialize with semi-strangers.

Sanctum Sanctorum

What it comes down to for me is that I find peace, rejuvenation, and joy from being with a small circle of close friends and family. My inner-circle is my sanctuary, where everybody knows my name (and my game), and where I feel completely safe, completely fulfilled, and completely happy. Anything else (less) is simply in the way of me having my life. Socializing with semi-strangers is a chore to be dispensed with as quickly as possible so that I can get back to my real life with my close friends and family. I’ll never be a politician, a cruise director, a game show host, or a party planner, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

• Leave a comment... (5)

Nino’s Restaurant

2817 West Dallas

Houston, Tx 77019

713 522 5120

 

This year we decided to do the big evening out for New Year’s. Our daughter would be up in Indiana (instead of down here in Houston with us) and so we would be left to our own devices for evening entertainment if we so chose. Lucky for us, our favorite live band was playing at our favorite club and we decided to make a whole evening of it.

Of course, the perfect start to that type of evening has to be the just-right spot to eat. In a place like Houston, there are so many great spots to choose from, even when I limited myself to the spots near the house. I was looking for the exact right combination of ambiance, price, location, and food to fit the evening’s adventures. I knew I was going to go dressy with the outfit but I didn’t want to totally over-kill, money-wise, on dinner: it was just going to be the two of us and neither of us are big enough drinkers to make it worth it to go all-out with the wine-and-after-dinner-ports type feast.

I knew I wanted a known quantity; for a fun evening out I wasn’t interested in breaking new ground. Most important on the list was good food. Next was an intimate ambiance, not too clattery. And of course, not too much of a schlep: close to our house (in the Heights), close to downtown. One of my first thoughts was Vincent’s… we love the rotisserie chicken, it’s so close to the house, and it hit that perfect mid-price point I was looking for. When making the reservation, I switched to Vincent’s next-door brother restaurant, Nino’s, instead — similarly wonderful food (including that famous chicken), but with a more intimate atmosphere.

The New Year’s reservations process was pretty straightforward; we had to give a credit card and confirm on the day. We were also warned to get there on time or risk losing our table and that we’d only have a two-hour window for dinner. All seemed like reasonable rules, given the logistics of the holiday. The staff handled everything smoothly when we arrived: they sat us exactly on time at a great little table in the center of the downstairs floor but nestled near a plant stand so it still felt private. Everything proceeded perfectly from there; our orders were taken precisely and accurately, our drinks brought out fairly quickly, and our appetizers, entrées and desserts perfectly spaced. And the food was fabulous! I had Penne alla Vodka (pasta in a tomato cream sauce with vodka, one of my favorites) and Scott had the Pollo Pasquale (chicken stuffed with sausage and mushrooms, very tasty)!

The very precision of our food delivery, actually, was an amazing feat: going out on New Year’s Eve is pretty much like going out on prom night and Mother’s Day all rolled into one; even a well-oiled restaurant machine can get overwhelmed with large conflagrations of young couples and big family groups. Although Nino’s seemed able to handle the influx of crowd, New Year’s Eve is definitely amateur’s night out, and I think the staff at Nino’s knew that. Actually, there’s my disappointment with the evening. While mechanically it was flawless, it lacked the normal warmth and intimacy that we’ve come come to love about eating at a Mandola restaurant. When we sat down and ordered our first drinks (I started out with an espresso and a Pellegrino, Scott with a Diet Coke), I speculate that our waiter pegged us as penny pinchers in from the sticks because we didn’t order any wine or bar drinks right off the bat (I needed a little caffeine first!!). His service was robotical after that. He got our appetizer and entrée order at the same time and was one notch less communicative than abrupt the entire time, I’d say. He may have just been busy because of the holiday crowd or he may just not be that kind of smoochie-face waiter, but I did expect more of a “gracious host” type feel from the Nino’s waitstaff.

Of course we’ll go again, both to Nino’s and Vincent’s. The food’s too good, and we’ve received outstanding service at both places before. I’ll chalk up this particular service experience to a busy holiday night, and really, it’s a minor nit I’m picking with this review. Our food was still of excellent quality and came out with perfect timing. Our waiter did still attend to our drinks (perhaps a little more when Mr. Mandola was within earshot) and he wasn’t rude, just… dismissive. Next time I’ll hope for a little more of that family feel.

• Leave a comment... (0)

I am comfortable with the food chain, and I’m no PETA-belonging tree-hugger. I eat meat, wear leather, smush bugs, and own pets (dogs and cats, maybe an aquarium soon). I try to choose products like free-range chickens and eggs from nesting hens, and I eat beef because it seems that most cows have a pretty cruelty-free life (up to the last part, at least). I stay away from things like veal and pâté, which can’t be produced in non-cruel ways, and I don’t wear (nor buy as presents) any type of fur, since most fur bearing animals are raised solely so that their fur can be harvested for adornment, whereas the vast majority of leather comes from cows that were processed for meat, which is a necessity of life (sorry, vegetarians).

So, while I believe that man has the right to exercise his place at the top of the food chain, I also think that it is the very definition of humanity that we not objectify the natural world or feel that we have to right to do anything we want to animals, no matter how cruel or selfish, just because they are animals.

There’s a summary of my animal politics. I’m pretty much in the middle of the pack, in my experience, and I’m certainly not an extremist of any stripe.

David the Deer, Meet Goliath the Goober

However, I cannot even begin to understand “sport” hunting. In fact, I assert that there is no such thing as “sport” hunting, as sport implies some sort of contest between competitively matched opponents, and the last time I checked deer hadn’t started carrying high-powered rifles, or even wearing bullet-proof vests. No, in today’s world hunting is nothing more than ritualized killing. Slaughter for pleasure. Torture for gratification.

I can hear some of you out there saying that I don’t understand hunting (or fishing). But I do. I was raised in South Texas, and the opening of deer season was a national holiday for the males (and some of the females) in my family. Also, my family members ate what they shot or caught (for the most part), and were all from an income bracket where the game and fish brought into the household helped extend the meager family budgets. As a boy I had pellet guns, shot birds around my house, went hunting with my uncles, and fished 2-3 times a week in the summer. However, as I got older (mid-teens) I lost my taste for it, realizing that I did not experience the “thrill of the hunt”, and instead started to question my own humanity because I was attempting to kill simply for sport.

Bloodbath and Beyond (turn of phrase courtesy of The Simpsons)

And that’s really what it comes down to. Hunting is about killing. Period. Hunters can try to rationalize that it is about being outdoors, applying skills that allow the hunter to get close enough for the kill. But you can do all that without killing. Take a camera with you – no zoom lens – and try to take a close-up of the animal you used to try to kill. Taking a picture has every single other element of hunting except the kill. So, if it’s not about killing, then don’t kill. So simple, yes?

No. Some hunters will say that since they use a bow and arrow, they’ve leveled the playing field. Actually, what bow hunting does is lead to more wounded animals running off to die from painful infections or to be caught by predators because they are slowed by their wounds. Is bow hunting more “fair” than high-powered rifle hunting? Yes, but that’s beside the point, because the point is actually why do you feel you must kill innocent animals?

Other hunters will say that the natural order of things puts man at the top of the food chain, and the soul-less, un-self-aware animals are there for us to terrify/torture/slaughter as we see fit. Now, I partially agree with this, in that I think that the human body was designed to need meat to be healthy, and I’m okay with animal husbandry that puts meat on my table. However, the assembly-line slaughter of meat-producing farm animals, while certainly not pleasant, is in no way comparable to a self-aware human who willfully chooses to spend their time hunting down and attempting to kill simply for their own gratification and blood-lust.

No Reasonable Doubt

I’m pretty open-minded, and can usually see both sides of most hot-button issues, but in this case I really see no way that anyone can dispute that sport hunting is solely about taking pleasure from killing. Some say that there is a challenge involved that gives satisfaction, and it’s not about the kill. To them I say why not go camping in the woods, find an old stump, and face down the challenge of trying to dig up the stump. Now there’s a challenge for you.

If you need the thrill of the hunt, then try paint-ball against humans. If you need to prove your sniper-like rifle skills, take up the biathlon (for the goobers who think this involves lesbian action, the biathlon is a winter sport that combines cross-country skiing with target shooting). If you think you must hone your hunting skills to be able to survive the coming collapse of civilization, please seek professional help. If you think you’re doing good by helping to control the animal population, that’s a crock, unless you hunt reluctantly and with great remorse, and even then you must have some sort of psychopathic bloodlust to pick this one area in which to practice your philanthropy.

The One Exception

The only justification for hunting, in my book, is survival. But then it is not “sport” hunting, it is a survival skill. There are people of limited means who actually can’t afford to put enough store-bought protein on their dinner tables, and must hunt in order to make ends meet. They are exempt, in my opinion, from any condemnation of “sport” hunting.

Ask Why

But with that one exception, I ask all “sport” hunters to ask themselves why they hunt. Why they feel the need to use incomprehensibly advanced weapons and tactics against innocent beings. Why they cannot take joy simply by being outdoors and experiencing nature instead of having to destroy it. Why their own lives make them feel so powerless or weak that they must somehow demonstrate their power and strength by killing defenseless creatures.

Study after study have shown that there is an irrefutable link between violence against animals and psychotic, sociopathic tendencies. A hunter who can desensitize himself to the obvious terror and pain he inflicts on his prey also becomes desensitized to violence against humans, most frequently his own family.

So, stop the cycle. If your father taught you to hunt, you may have nostalgic feelings about it, but that still doesn’t make it right. Hunting does not “make you a man”. In fact, it makes you sub-human. So stop. Don’t teach your children to hunt. Don’t tell them that it’s what men do. Don’t take glory from the carcasses adorning your wall. There is no glory in slaughter, only shame.

• Leave a comment... (0)

Garage Door Doctor

Vince Johnson

Repair Specialist

New Installation

Openers

281-578-7659

Houston, TX

I always like to give local people and places props on our website when I can, and I’m long overdue to put some good words about the Garage Door Doctor up here.

Our mid-80’s Heights garden house (think townhouse, but with no shared walls and an apron of land) is a cute almost-Victorian affair, with wood siding, fishscale details, and lots of white trim. When we bought the house, it included some very heavy custom-made wooden garage doors, which steadily deteriorated in the moist Houston humidity (so has the wood siding, but replacing it is a task for another time). Finally it got to the point that Scott wouldn’t let me walk under the doors while they were moving for fear they might finally disintegrate and fall on my head.

We finally called the Garage Door Doctor at the recommendation of our friend Bruce, and boy was I glad that we did. He scheduled himself to come out within a few days, for an afternoon (mornings, he told me, were reserved for all the ‘my garage door fell down on my car’ emergency fix calls he inevitably got each day). On the scheduled afternoon, he called me at the promised time, swung by our house to measure the doors (good thing, too, as he discovered that they were a weird custom size), and told me he’d be done by the end of the day. I left him in charge of the garage and took advantage of already being off work to go run business-hour-only errands.

By the end of the day, he’d magically transformed our sad dilapidated garage doors into two beautiful new metal ones with brand-new tracks and springs that even had a safety cable (so the springs don’t fly wildly if they break), integrated with our old garage door openers. He even transferred our custom barrel-lock disabler cable, that allows us to get in with a key if the power’s out. He did a great job, even sweeping up when our old garage door did indeed disintegrate into bits as he took it off the rails. The work was fabulous, fast, and well worth the price. He charged $695 for the whole deal — the new doors, installation, and hauling away those nasty heavy wooden doors for us.

If you need new garage doors or any work done on ones you already have, I recommend the Garage Door Doctor.

• Leave a comment... (0)

The existence of this movie fills me with happiness and awe at the creative audacity of the human race. If you don’t know anything about this movie (although I’m not sure how you would find this review otherwise), and you have an open mind about movies, I urge you to stop reading and go see it before reading any further.

Go on, go.

When I ask if you have an open mind about movies, what I mean is can you set aside preconceptions about what movies should be and just experience what’s on the screen in the spirit in which it is given? Roger Ebert summed it up best in his review of this film, in which he said that to enjoy this film you have to not so much care what it is about, but you must care HOW it is about what it is about. Bubba Ho-tep is an amazing transference of an artistic vision to the screen, without care for the marketability of the story and without compromises to please the multiplex masses. In fact, this film doesn’t even have a proper distributor, so there’s almost zero advertising, it’s only playing in a few theaters, and will certainly not get the recognition (or box office) that it deserves.

So go on, go see it.

I’m warning you, I’m about to talk about the plot, and if you don’t already know the plot you shouldn’t read any further. In any case you should go see it. And if you’ve already seen it, go see it again, just so Hollywood can see that it has horrible taste in picking which movies deserve distribution and promotion (uh, Gigli? Texas Chainsaw Massacre? In the Cut?) and which don’t. Mind you, this isn’t Shakespeare, but it sure isn’t the dreck that Hollywood keeps excreting for the mindless herds, either. So thumb your nose at factory filmmaking, reward those involved with this unique near-classic, and be part of the grass-roots movement to show the so-called entertainment industry that you are not a mindless horde-member, but are instead a discriminating consumer who can appreciate a film like this.

Last chance, the next paragraph talks about the plot. Really, it does. Okay, you’ve been warned.

Bubba Ho-tep starts with an outrageous premise…well, three Outrageous Premises, actually. Outrageous Premise number one is that Elvis Presley is still alive and living in an East Texas nursing home. You see, at the height of his career he got fed up with all the glitz, glamour, fame, money, sex, and drugs and decided to switch places with an Elvis impersonator. Unfortunately for Elvis, the contract he had with the impersonator burned up (in a trailer park fire), Elvis (who was touring as an Elvis impersonator) fell off the stage, broke his hip, and ended up in a temporary coma, and the Elvis impersonator died. So now Elvis (the real Elvis) is living out the rest of his years in ill health, obscurity, loneliness, and regret.

Outrageous Premise number two is that another resident of the nursing home is none other than John F. Kennedy, or at least, he believes he is. You see, according to our elderly, obviously African-American JFK, the assassination attempt in Dallas failed, and Lyndon Johnson (et al) filled the hole in Kennedy’s head with a bag of sand, dyed him black, and put him in a nursing home, knowing that nobody would believe the ravings of an old black man that he was actually JFK.

Outrageous Premise number three is that many years ago a couple of thieves tried to steal the mummified corpse of a lesser Pharaoh (Tut’s brother, maybe) that was touring the US, but the bus they were driving ran off a bridge during a storm, dumping the sarcophagus into the river that just happens to run below the nursing home. Somehow the opening of the sarcophogus freed the mummy from the curse of death, and now he walks around at night looking to consume souls, which he needs as sustenance to remain undead (as opposed to dead). He has found an easy feeding ground at the nursing home, as nobody can put up much of a fight, and nobody is considered to have died an untimely death, since they’re all just there waiting to die in the first place. Elvis and JFK figure out what’s going on, and team up to try to stop the creature, who is dubbed Bubba Ho-tep (Bubba because he’s in the South, Ho-tep because it was an Egyptian royal family name).

At this point you’re either intrigued or you’re about to quit reading. If you’re about to quit reading, let me first say that once you accept the three Outrageous Premises, the movie plays it pretty much straight with the rest of the story. Elvis and JFK are walker and wheelchair-bound (respectively), and don’t suddenly gain heroic powers or manage to overcome the ravages of age. Bubba Ho-tep isn’t the fiercest undead creature ever to walk the earth, either, and he feeds on the elderly because they seem to be the only ones he can catch and overpower, and nobody listens to their outrageous claims.

If you’re still skeptical, I’ll also point out that if you go see this film you’ll see a performance by Bruce Campbell as Elvis that should, if there is any justice in the world, be nominated for an Academy Award. I have never in my life wondered what Elvis would look or sound like if he were still alive, but after seeing this film I’m sure it would very close to Bruce Campbell’s portrayal. There’s even a voice-over by the Elvis character, and while I usually find voice-overs to be annoying and pointless devices used by lazy directors to tell their story, in Bubba Ho-tep I found it to be a funny and poignant stream-of-consciousness from the man who would be King.

Also, this is not a slasher/horror movie, or even a horror/comedy. It sort of defies classification (which is why Hollywood won’t touch it with a ten foot pole…they can’t figure out what division it fits into), but if I were forced to describe this film in one sentence, it would be that it is a heartfelt commentary on the hell that is aging in America, coupled with incisive commentary about the ravages of fame and the human faults and foibles of man-made kings, wrapped up inside a story about two old geezers fighting off an undead mummy (who one of them thinks just might be Lyndon Johnson), and, if you accept the premise, is played straight and not as camp or satire, but is told with humor and intelligence. That’s a long sentence but there’s no shorter way to adequately describe this film.

Add to that the fact that JFK is portrayed (with appropriate gravitas) by the always-reliable Ossie Davis, and you have a movie made up of Grade B (and even C) movie parts, but which is put together with such skill and love that it overcomes its humble origins to become transcendentally great (sorta like Elvis). This film was made on a low budget (it probably could have been financed by sunglasses budget from the Matrix films), but it has enough heart and soul and humor that it ranks as one of the most enjoyable movie-going experiences I have had in years. So, relax, free your mind, shed your inhibitions, and go see this movie. And for being open-minded enough to do so (or to at least have read this entire review), I can only say thank you. Thank you very much.

P.S. I’m not kidding about Bruce Campbell’s performance as Elvis being Oscar-worthy. I’m sort of a fair-weather fan of his, having seen and loved his performances in Evil Dead and Evil Dead II. But I didn’t really care for Army of Darkness, I’ve never sought out any of his TV series, and I didn’t buy his book. I went into this film with expectations that I would see a Bruce Campbell film, and I didn’t. He is virtually unrecognizable, and not just because of the hair, makeup, muttonchops, and groovy shades. He becomes Elvis in this role.

There’s a scene in the film that I think should be shown to all Academy voters. In a flashback, we see Elvis (played by Bruce Campbell) meeting with the Elvis impersonator who will take his place (also played by Bruce Campbell). Even though they are both in costume and both look like Elvis (and like each other, since they’re the same actor), there is NO question as to which one is The King, as the “real” Elvis simply exudes greatness and power, while the impersonator just sort of looks like Elvis, but he sure doesn’t FEEL like Elvis.

I doubt that it will ever happen, but if any Academy voters read this, I urge you to seek out this quirky little gem of a movie and judge Bruce Campbell’s performance for yourself. By nominating him the Academy could instantly regain the credibility and respect that is slowly being frittered away by the ever-more-obvious fact that you seem content to suckle at the mainstream teat of the big studios while turning an ever-more-blind eye towards films without marketing budgets.

• Leave a comment... (0)

The Heights Spa

440 W 19th St

Houston, TX 77008

(713) 864-8088

The ambitiously titled Heights Spa is really still just a nail shop, but it’s a nice one. And so far, it’s worth its slightly higher price versus its assembly-line acrylic competitors. The shop is on 19th, in the new section of strip shopping centers just a few blocks west of Yale & all the antiques shops. It tries (and succeeds) for a calm ambiance — the smallish space feels cozy and serene, with curving walls, all indirect lighting, and soothing sage and earth tones throughout.

Their services include manicures, pedicures, facials, and waxing, but I’ve only done the manicure/pedicure route there so far. The shop, although small, is already expanding into the space next door to accomodate its healthy business. Their ‘spa pedicure’ is a little more expensive than other spots (about $40) but it’s worth it: sea salt scrub-down, mint mask, and lots of massage with lotions and oils — all from the very comfy heated and massaging princess pedicure pedestal chair. Their solar nail acrylic refills take longer than at other shops, but for good reason. Their pink and white refills are very precise and even, with a smooth arc of white at the tip. And they take the time to really shape the acrylic all the way back on your nail without grinding your cuticles into a bloody mess. They’re so careful and delicate; I’ve never had ONE slice from the Razor Nail Board of Death so common at other shops.

For the foreseeable future, The Heights Spa will be my new nail shop of choice — decadent pedicures, super careful solar nails, and so close to home. If you’re in this part of the city and you want a salon-quality manicure/pedicure with the convenience of a drop-in nail shop, this is the place for you.

• Leave a comment... (0)

This excellent swashbuckler borders on being an epic, but actually doesn’t try to be. It tells a medium-sized story (not big, not small) about a particular ship of the British Navy (during the Napoleonic Wars) on a particular mission (to sink or capture a bigger, faster French ship). It tells this story very, very well. The British ship, the Surprise, is chasing the French ship, the Acheron, down the Atlantic side of South America, around the Cape, and back up the Pacific side. The Surprise is smaller and slower, with fewer guns, fewer men, and a thinner hull. The Acheron is bigger, faster, has twice as many men and guns, and has a hull that seems impenetrable by British cannon fire.

The captains seem equally matched from a naval tactics perspective. Much like the crew of the Surprise, we don’t get to see or know the French crew except as a cunning and dangerous enemy, a chimera that hunts us and haunts us with equal effectiveness. The captain of the Surprise is Lucky Jack Aubrey, played with complete authority and believability by Russell Crowe. Captain Aubrey is tough but fair, and has (and deserves) the unquestioning respect and loyalty of his crew. Dr. Stephen Maturin, played by Paul Bettany, is the ship’s surgeon. He’s a skillful doctor, but his true calling is that he is a naturalist, and joined the Navy simply because it would take him around the world to see unrecorded new creature and species.

Aubrey and Maturin are long-time friends, and frequently spend evenings together in the captain’s cabin practicing music. This actually works within the story, and does not seem as stilted or affected as it sounds writing it. Their practice seems to flow naturally as part of the British Naval tradition of preserving culture and manners within the ranks of serving officers. We see the officers drinking tea from china cups as they fight raging seas or await the start of a battle, and it does not seem effete or incongruous, and in fact feels the way I presume it was designed to feel, which is that it brings a touch of normality and the familiarity of home to the strange society that is a warship halfway around the world.

The movie itself is nearly flawless. To put this review into perspective, I fully expected to hate this film. I don’t have any special affinity for historical or military stories, I have a love/hate relationship with Russell Crowe (grudgingly love most of his performances, tend to dislike what I can glean about him as a person), and the previews and trailers for this film were nothing but fodder for jokes and derision, as the film, quite frankly, just looked ridiculous to me. Pile on top of that the overlong and overblown title, and I knew this one was a “must miss” for me.

But I kept hearing very good things. And not from paid mouthpieces, but from my usual, trusted sources. So I set aside my skepticism and we went to see it last night, and I’m glad that we did. Russell Crowe does an amazing job as Captain Aubrey – so good, in fact, that within moments of the film starting I forgot that I was watching a “Russell Crowe film” and simply found myself watching the story play out. The acting by the entire cast is nearly perfect, and I qualify that with a “nearly” only because I’m sure somebody somewhere made a mistake or rang false, but I didn’t see it or notice it.

The film takes place entirely in and around the Surprise, so the vast majority of scenes are either on deck or below decks, and these scenes all feel completely authentic. The effects are seamless and unnoticeable, and even though I know they didn’t film scenes with the cast on deck during the vicious storms and high seas depicted in the film, I couldn’t see the effects, only the effect, which is very real. The filmmakers also seemed to pay very close attention to historically accurate details, but in the film they are not highlighted or paraded in front of the audience, but merely serve as backdrop, and their authenticity adds to the reality of the story.

And the story is very complex and real, with two major threads. The first is the pursuit of the Acheron, with the ships changing between hunter and hunted with each new day and shift of wind. Some of the strategy and tactics of naval warfare of the time are shown, but this is not a procedural, and these details are not the gist of the story and are only revealed as necessary to tell the tale. The second major thread is life aboard a British Naval vessel of the period. Aubrey is a good captain, and dines frequently with his officers, even getting tipsy and singing seafaring songs with them and visiting the decks in his inebriated state, which seems to bond him even further with his crew.

But he also doles out lashes where appropriate, even to good seamen who have simply crossed the line. And he is also willing to sacrifice his crew members when necessary in the heat of pursuit or battle, but it is done strategically, without malice and with much later regret, the curse of every good military leader. His officers range from seasoned hands to young boys, all loyal and dedicated officers, but with human faults and foibles that play into the story. The crew are a motley but hard-working bunch, and while mutiny is never a possibility in this story, we see that it is only the crew’s trust and love for their captain coupled with the iron-fisted chain of military command that keeps this from happening.

So, if you are skeptical, like I was, and don’t have any particular affinity for swashbucklers or military stories, or any great affection for period pieces or Russell Crowe, I urge you to put all that aside and go see this film. There are no martial arts, no sunglasses, no serial killers, no sex, no (gratuitous) gore, no quick cuts, no anachronisms, no time travelers, no robots, no teen angst, no May/December romances, and no hip soundtrack. Thank god.

• Leave a comment... (0)

King Biscuit
1606 White Oak Dr
Houston, TX 77009
Phone: (713) 861-2328

The King Biscuit restaurant is tucked back in an old Houston Heights neighborhood along White Oak bayou. The menu is fairly extensive, including soups, salads, hamburgers, sandwiches, seafood, steaks, pork chops, etc, and the ambience is sort of kitschy-Heights. The building appears to have grown organically from an old gas station, and is tucked into a V in the road. There is almost zero designated parking, so you usually have to park on the streets of the surrounding neighborhood. There is a nice patio with a good view of the bayou, but it is usually infested with hard-core smokers making anything you eat out there taste like you’re licking it out of a used ashtray.

We have not been impressed with the food quality on our last couple of visits, and while the food isn’t terrible, it’s really nothing special. So, given the wide variety of excellent eats in Houston, I think King Biscuit is going to drop out of our restaurant rotation, at least for a while. A few years ago the food was noticeably better, and we hope that the quality starts to improve again, as we like this place and want it to be good.

• Leave a comment... (0)