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CINEMA SEEN - "Mealtime at the Movies!" By William Margold I bet meals. Because...win or lose...I am going to get a chance to eat. Many, many, MANY years ago...before I opted for the gastronomic way of gambling, I used to put my money where my mouth (and mind) was...and I would make bets about numerous sporting events (particularly when they involved MY teams: The Detroit Lions and The New York Yankees). But as the years went by, and I found myself winning a great deal by backing The Yankees, but then losing it all (and much more) when I sacrificed my common sense for team loyalty with The Lions---I decided that the bitter taste of defeat or the savory flavor of victory would go down much easier if simply meals at such places as The Original Pantry in downtown Los Angeles (where I am currently already owed not one but two dining experiences), Fu Shing in South Pasadena, Pann’s near LAX, Paco’s Tacos in Culver City, Little Toni’s in North Hollywood, with a hot dog place and a BBQ joint or two tossed in for good waist expanding measure, and of course, The Yukon Mining Company in West Hollywood, were on the line. Where betting meals really began to dominate my gambling way of life was when I started making yearly Oscar wagers with my old friend Elmer Pasta (whom I have had the pleasure of knowing for almost 40 years, and who, in fact, was a staff writer back in glory days of The Hollywood Press). And currently, perhaps frivolously, I have taken to making eating bets (about all sorts of things) with a co-worker at THE LAXPRESS named Ramsey Moore---a portly fellow who wears his appreciation of food with a proud swagger that is matched with a grin that could span The Grand Canyon. Burbling his appreciation for NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, I couldn’t resist wagering a visit to Little Toni’s (their individual thin crust, extra crispy pepperoni, mushroom and garlic pizza is a lethal love affair with high blood pressure) that the Coen Brothers’ fitfully frustrating affair wouldn’t make to The Final Five in The Best Picture category. Amusingly noteworthy is the fact that the stultifying film, which is set like so many cement cow pies in 1980’s Texas, only comes alive when someone is being killed. The tedious tale of an enigmatic killer (played comatosely by Javier Bardem) pursuing a hapless fellow (Josh Brolin) who has stumbled upon some mob money, while in turn they are both being half-heartedly hunted by a worn out Tommy Lee Jones (who spends way too much hankering for the good old days of black-and-white good guys versus bad guys) is an agonizing mess. Staggering around blindly in the padded cell of Coen Brothers’ black humor pretension and false portent, "No Country" tries desperately to make points with a very dull pencil. I found myself trying way too hard to find something of merit in "For Old Men" and when I have to work that hard looking for "what it all means"...invariably it’s time to realize that certain emperors (and Brothers) are naked. On the other knife and fork holding hand, I’ll take any and all bets about AMERICAN GANGSTER making The Final Five/Best Picture cut---as the magnificent Ridley Scott-directed effort is an almost perfect example of compelling and awesome motion picture film crafting at its zenith. Even with its outcome already known, the rise and fall of a Harlem-based heroin peddling super hood of the late Sixties and early Seventies named Frank Lucas, is the cinematic cloth that the words "riveting classic" are woven from. As portrayed with mesmerizing menace and paradoxically admirable evil by Denzel Washington, Frank Lucas takes his place among the screen’s legendary criminals---including even those who have been called "Godfather." The coda of Lucas’ world is as moral in its immorality as it can and must be in order to survive...as well as to profit. Hell bent to bring Lucas down is Russell Crowe, who lumbers about eloquently as he underplays Richie Roberts, an honest cop who finds himself swimming upstream in the rancid waters of corruption that are the majority of the supposed law enforcement officers are contemptuously polluting in his own department. Noteworthy here is that Josh Brolin (who brought very little to the torturous table in "No Country") is balls-out brutal as a dirty detective who winds making both Lucas’ and Roberts’ lives miserable. Somewhat lamentably, the final sequences of the film, when Washington and Crowe finally get a chance to share the screen, appear to be rushed in a sort of Hallmark Card simplistic way of things. But I guess because Scott, Washington, Crowe and screenwriter Steven Zaillian have already provided so much to chew on for well over two hours, the lightness of the dessert portion of the cinematic dining experience is appropriate, as it will allow the major courses of meal to be relished for a very long time to come. In fact...you can bet on it! end NOTE: Originally published in LA Xpress, December 6, 2007, issue. |