Last evening, I had the opportunity to sit through a film called Law Abiding Citizen. (Released in 2009, directed by F. Gary Gray, starring Jamie Foxx and Gerard Butler, written by Kurt Wimmer.) While enjoying the film, something began to nag at me, and when the thought occurred, it would not leave.
The plot, briefly: the home of Clyde Shelton (Butler) is invaded, his wife and daughter murdered and he is beaten. The assistant district attorney Nick Rice (Foxx), to get a conviction, cuts a deal, and one of the two guilty parties is given a drastically reduced sentence. Shelton then goes on a killing spree, following the Lex Talonis, an eye for an eye, killing those he perceives to be guilty. Rice is involved in the case, both in tracking and attempting to put Shelton behind bars. People are executed on screen in a variety of ways that are entertaining for those who find such things entertainment. (Like me.)
The film is well made, shot very noir-style, and the performances are nicely done. (Foxx and Butler own this film.) What brought my to writing this particular piece was the notion that I had seen the film before, but it was called The Abominable Dr. Phibes. A wronged man seeks redress, and those from whom he seeks it must suffer.
This plot has been used again and again, to varying effect: Dr. Phibes Rises Again, Theater Of Blood (my personal favorite), the Saw and Hostel series, among many, many others. Even the original Friday The Thirteenth can be seen as falling into this category.
What really cemented this was the DVD extra feature on Law Abiding Citizen that refers to the legal aspect of the film. While the legal portion of the film is far from flawless, the mini-documentary discusses the basic plot line and the focus of the film, which is the jurisprudence system in the United States, and the reasons why certain things happen, and must happen, and why it can be perceived as a complete failure.
This theme of Failed Justice is what brings us to the notion of Lex Talonis, an eye for an eye. There is a sub-genre of film called the Revenge Film, usually attached to a sexual assault. Here, we get to see something known as Let The Punishment Fit The Crime.
These films play on a fear, the fear that the system can and does work, but when the right unfortunate series of events take place, it not only fails but appears to mock itself. Villains are allowed freedom and safe passage while the victim is now sport, the punchline to a sick joke.
In the horror version of this type of plot, justice is meted out in the most brutal of means. Body parts are removed (in Hannibal, feet were going to be eaten off of a living human by ravenous pigs), death comes in a variety of peculiar, Rube Goldberg means and, most important for this genre, the villain is reduced to victim and knows that a painful demise awaits.
Make that: a slow, painful demise. Not only must the punishment fit the crime, it must now surpass it. Innocents are offered up as sacrifice; children, spouses and loved ones (dogs in Theater Of Blood) must be harmed, as the villain in question can stand anything and everything but not the pain suffered by others. This is Justice in Orwell's Room 101: what awaits is the worst thing in the world, and the worst thing differs from one human being to another.
The underlying notion then of Justice Failed must needs be turned to Lex Talonis has become a barometer of the audience's response, a societal pulse. Can we accept this? Has it become necessary in our 21st century life?
Taking this one more step back, and we find the point of crossover, as shown in the film Death Wish. Again, there is a home invasion, murder and rape, and the wronged man begins to hunt down and kill the villains... as a vigilante. Lex talonis belongs to the vigilante, and that then opens this concept to the entire mythos of two figures: Batman and Daredevil. Young men, parent/parents killed, life dedicated to justice: an eye for an eye, and let the beatings commence.
When we are treated (if that term can be used here) to the slow agony of destruction of the flesh, when the punishment seems to not only be attached to the crime but reaching into the play book of the Marquis de Sade, then we start moving from an eye for an eye and into an eye, a tooth, a foot.... just so the audience can see the blood and torment. However, going back to Law Abiding Citizen, we are shown the machinery of death, and often the results, but not the slow agony. Thus, we do not consider it "torture," because we do not see or hear the screams.
This, then, is the bottom line: there is no difference. If we see onscreen a man being buried alive, screaming and clawing and gasping for Just One More Breath, what is the difference is we only find his twisted corpse, the aftermath? Both images are the same: this person was buried alive. The death would be both slow and painful, and tormenting to the soul and psyche.
Why, then, are we being treated to long scenes of agony?
I think it is due to a sense of impotence, a complete loss of personal power. Any idiot with access to a credit card can rent a box truck and purchase enough chemicals to blow up a building and everyone in it; a jet can be overcome and used a human-guided missile. This is our world. When it comes home, when the chickens come to roost, we see ourselves as we are: powerless, wronged and angry. We want justice, and we have slowly but surely begun to surrender any hope of that being seen in a court of law, and in these types of films we are seeing the results.
This is both good and bad. Good as (hopefully, God willing) allows us a form of catharsis, an option to release the rage against the world without actually harming anyone. Bad in that is underscores the sense that the only true justice comes from the barrel of a gun or the point of a knife... or a chainsaw.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Grace (2009) Film review
Written and directed by Paul Solet (and dedicated to his mother, which only makes it creepier), starring Jordan Lad as Madeline Matheson, Stephen Park as Michael Matheson, Samantha Ferris as Patricia Lang and Gabrielle Rose as Vivian Matheson (mother of Michael).
This won't be for everyone. Slow of pace and going for the disturbing rather than shock and grotesque, it succeeds where others can only dream of attempting. The plot: Madeline Matheson is pregnant after two failed attempts, and has chosen to go to a midwife (Patricia Lang) who has had some kind of prior relationship with her, possibly a lesbian affair. Mother Matheson dislikes and distrusts anything not attached to a clean, white hospital, and goes out of her way to undermine every choice Madeline makes. There is a horrific car accident, Micheal dies, and her unborn child is declared dead in utero. Madeline decides to carry the dead child to term, and on birthing her (Grace, the title character of the film), holds the body and wills it to life. From there, everything turns sideways.
The film industry as a whole tends to shy away from showing strong willed women, and here all of the female characters are stronger than the men. This does not mean that the women are perfect, in fact they are all deeply wounded by their own decisions and pasts. As this thing progresses, the characters are all displayed, warts and all, and therein lies it greatest strength. There is a villain of sorts in the mother, but once the film shows her as both hateful and controlling, it then shows the agony of losing a child.
There are two intimate moments of sexuality shown in the film. At the opening, Michael and Madeline are shown trying to conceive. Madeline is totally removed from the sex, staring at the ceiling, no emotional response, and Michael is merely the donor. This chilling effect drains any type of erotica that may have otherwise been used to draw us in, and sets the tone for the rest of the film.
The other is when Vivian is shown slipping into her husbands bed. In an earlier scene, Serge Houde as Henry Matheson (father of Michael) is trying to comfort his wife, and she declares (note this) his (not theirs, but his) room is a pigsty, indicating a sock on the bed. When she later slips into his bed, reaching beneath the covers to arouse and waken him, I had a happy moment: Hurrah for the geriatric brigade! Still gettin' busy at that age, and when they start to make love, the scene takes a sudden shift, and it goes from a potentially erotic scene to a deeply disturbing display of just how nuts mother has become.
There is blood, and blood aplenty, but that is merely an underscoring of what the film is doing. Approach with a certain level of caution: as stated earlier, it is not for everyone.
There are a few plot holes, and a number of times when the limited budget shows through, but the overall effect is not unlike that of 8MM or Hard Candy. Creepy, disturbing and ugly, in all of the ways most films, again, only wish they could be when approaching distasteful topics.
This won't be for everyone. Slow of pace and going for the disturbing rather than shock and grotesque, it succeeds where others can only dream of attempting. The plot: Madeline Matheson is pregnant after two failed attempts, and has chosen to go to a midwife (Patricia Lang) who has had some kind of prior relationship with her, possibly a lesbian affair. Mother Matheson dislikes and distrusts anything not attached to a clean, white hospital, and goes out of her way to undermine every choice Madeline makes. There is a horrific car accident, Micheal dies, and her unborn child is declared dead in utero. Madeline decides to carry the dead child to term, and on birthing her (Grace, the title character of the film), holds the body and wills it to life. From there, everything turns sideways.
The film industry as a whole tends to shy away from showing strong willed women, and here all of the female characters are stronger than the men. This does not mean that the women are perfect, in fact they are all deeply wounded by their own decisions and pasts. As this thing progresses, the characters are all displayed, warts and all, and therein lies it greatest strength. There is a villain of sorts in the mother, but once the film shows her as both hateful and controlling, it then shows the agony of losing a child.
There are two intimate moments of sexuality shown in the film. At the opening, Michael and Madeline are shown trying to conceive. Madeline is totally removed from the sex, staring at the ceiling, no emotional response, and Michael is merely the donor. This chilling effect drains any type of erotica that may have otherwise been used to draw us in, and sets the tone for the rest of the film.
The other is when Vivian is shown slipping into her husbands bed. In an earlier scene, Serge Houde as Henry Matheson (father of Michael) is trying to comfort his wife, and she declares (note this) his (not theirs, but his) room is a pigsty, indicating a sock on the bed. When she later slips into his bed, reaching beneath the covers to arouse and waken him, I had a happy moment: Hurrah for the geriatric brigade! Still gettin' busy at that age, and when they start to make love, the scene takes a sudden shift, and it goes from a potentially erotic scene to a deeply disturbing display of just how nuts mother has become.
There is blood, and blood aplenty, but that is merely an underscoring of what the film is doing. Approach with a certain level of caution: as stated earlier, it is not for everyone.
There are a few plot holes, and a number of times when the limited budget shows through, but the overall effect is not unlike that of 8MM or Hard Candy. Creepy, disturbing and ugly, in all of the ways most films, again, only wish they could be when approaching distasteful topics.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Film review - Feed (2005)
Directed by Brett Leonard, starring Alex O'Laughlin (who assisted with the story) as Michael Carter and Patrick Thompson as Phillip Jackson.
Phillip Jackson works in a cybercrime unit, and was last involved in an arrest in which one man paid another for a strange sex act: the willing victim was to be eaten alive.
This film, obviously, has something to say about the human condition, for good or ill. At its' beginning, then, the underlying premise is established: this entire film will deal with the seductive nature of evil and how it slowly destroys more than flesh but soul.
The body of the film, the real story, begins when Jackson discovers a website that endorses the sexual/erotic act of eating, and a woman, gigantic in girth, is fed to death. The man doing the feeding is our villain, Michael Carter.
While the majority of the film focuses on the tracking of the villain by the hero, it is the villain here that is the most important aspect. Similar then to 8MM, there is a sense of the journey into the abyss, the journey not taken by the outsider but by the man who so chose his own destination.
It is most interesting to note that hero and villain meet more than once and have ample time to react to one another. The hero, the force for Good, is not ineffectual but often stymied by his own passion for justice, and his back story suggests that very passion has caused more than a little consternation form his superiors. Good is shown as persistent, but a matter of preference, differing notions of Good (in that Good is that which should be done) interfere with one another.
In the course of film history, the nature of evil is usually shown in some form of violence and in the last few decades that evil is superhuman. What should be a fatal blow or GSW merely annoys the villain. There is much running and screaming and flailing about (what this author thinks of as "normal response" to such external stimuli). Evil here is shown as a form of seduction, the gradual assistance of the victim to their own demise, one step at a time. The villain is a con man, unrelenting, unflinching and cold-hearted and cruel. He knows who he is and what he is, and he is quite okay with that. Evil is calculating, patient and consistent. Little in this film is done by force: the victims are shown as willing, walking into their own grave and happy for the choice to do so. The villain leads, and the victim follows.
From the very opening of the film: this opening, about characters that never again appear in the story, as stated above, is the touchpoint. While disturbing and often disgusting, it is an extremely moral tale. There is much here in this film that is unworthy of attention, to be sure. This author prefers the low budget end of filmmaking, as it requires the creators to be more resourceful, but that does not forgive sloppy technical errors. A lower budget generally means the high dollar acting talent won't be seen, and there are more than a few eye-rolling moments here.
Not for all audiences, but definitely worth notice. Not many mainstream films are so possessed of such a strong moral worldview.
Phillip Jackson works in a cybercrime unit, and was last involved in an arrest in which one man paid another for a strange sex act: the willing victim was to be eaten alive.
This film, obviously, has something to say about the human condition, for good or ill. At its' beginning, then, the underlying premise is established: this entire film will deal with the seductive nature of evil and how it slowly destroys more than flesh but soul.
The body of the film, the real story, begins when Jackson discovers a website that endorses the sexual/erotic act of eating, and a woman, gigantic in girth, is fed to death. The man doing the feeding is our villain, Michael Carter.
While the majority of the film focuses on the tracking of the villain by the hero, it is the villain here that is the most important aspect. Similar then to 8MM, there is a sense of the journey into the abyss, the journey not taken by the outsider but by the man who so chose his own destination.
It is most interesting to note that hero and villain meet more than once and have ample time to react to one another. The hero, the force for Good, is not ineffectual but often stymied by his own passion for justice, and his back story suggests that very passion has caused more than a little consternation form his superiors. Good is shown as persistent, but a matter of preference, differing notions of Good (in that Good is that which should be done) interfere with one another.
In the course of film history, the nature of evil is usually shown in some form of violence and in the last few decades that evil is superhuman. What should be a fatal blow or GSW merely annoys the villain. There is much running and screaming and flailing about (what this author thinks of as "normal response" to such external stimuli). Evil here is shown as a form of seduction, the gradual assistance of the victim to their own demise, one step at a time. The villain is a con man, unrelenting, unflinching and cold-hearted and cruel. He knows who he is and what he is, and he is quite okay with that. Evil is calculating, patient and consistent. Little in this film is done by force: the victims are shown as willing, walking into their own grave and happy for the choice to do so. The villain leads, and the victim follows.
From the very opening of the film: this opening, about characters that never again appear in the story, as stated above, is the touchpoint. While disturbing and often disgusting, it is an extremely moral tale. There is much here in this film that is unworthy of attention, to be sure. This author prefers the low budget end of filmmaking, as it requires the creators to be more resourceful, but that does not forgive sloppy technical errors. A lower budget generally means the high dollar acting talent won't be seen, and there are more than a few eye-rolling moments here.
Not for all audiences, but definitely worth notice. Not many mainstream films are so possessed of such a strong moral worldview.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Metropolis - 1927 incomplete restoration (film review)
Directed by Fritz Lang, filmed by Karl Freund.
From the Internet Movie Data Base (imdb.com): In a futuristic city sharply divided between the working class and the city planners, the son of the city's mastermind falls in love with a working class prophet who predicts the coming of a savior to mediate their differences.
What follows, now, is a rant about the brilliance of this film. Much of this implies a certain understanding of the previously available versions.
The current version of Metropolis, now available from Kino Video, is an incomplete restoration. A recent discovery in South America of approximately 30 minutes of previously thought to be missing footage was edited into the existing prints. Prior versions had been found, and this new nearly-restored version made great use of everything that had gone before as well as the newly-discovered missing pieces.
The editing process was directly attached to the existing score that was written to accompany the performance of the film. The score makes references to certain events that transpire in the story line, and the result, incomplete as it is, is now the closest thing to The Definitive Version of this master work.
The first thing that was noticed by this author was that the new South American footage was not cleaned up, not remastered. That was a disappointment, at first. There is a torn, damaged quality that is, at first, more than a little annoying. Having seen several severely damaged classics on the Criterion Collection series, this author is very aware of how current digital technology can be used to restore damaged visual images to an approximation of their original quality.
This choice to NOT do so lead to a moment, however, in the opening of the film that startled this author to such an extent that there was a verbal outcry, and the companion (Mr. Scot Murphy) noticed it. Quickly using the formula of 24 frames per second, and the approximate time of that clip (about 1.5 seconds), this author determined that the piece of damaged footage was about 36 frames in length.
From that moment forward, the realization dawned: it had to be presented in its damaged form, as that was the only way for those who have seen the other versions could identify just how flawed every existing available print had been.
Entire subplots were woven into the fabric of what was a familiar story. This author has seen Metropolis many times, and the Giorgio Moroder re-creation from the 1980's (still unavailable on DVD!! Crime against film...), went so far as to colorize the film to the original specifications: the original was hand-tinted, a practice that is rarely identified. Several classic silent films have bursts of color.
One moment in the film, where our hero, Freder takes the place of a worker, is rightly remembered as one of the high points in all of cinema; the mindless physical labor of standing before a giant circular gauge, the worker has to move two hands on the face of the gauge to match a pair of flashing lights. What is returned to us is that worker's subplot. In the Morodor version, a recently dismissed employee, now working for the son, becomes seduced by the lure of a decadent night club. Here, we now see it was the worker the hero had replaced.
The recently dismissed employee mentioned above has a fuller story, and he is harassed by the hero's father via a thug. The thug has multiple parts, the same actor playing several roles, wildly divergent from the others but slowly integrating into one character. This, in itself, is something that modern cinema has attempted but largely failed to do with this level of coherency and poignancy.
The villain of the piece, a demented soul named (of all things) Rotwang. With a lengthy sequence found in South America, a previously missing back story comes into focus: both Rotwang and Joh Frederson (the father of the hero) were deeply in love with Hel, the mother of the hero. The sequence brings a level of depth that shakes a lot of the prior understanding of the film to such an extent that this author was forced to study while viewing.
The Whore Of Babylon sequence, now longer and more fully realized, has been elevated in the mind of this author as one of the most perfect example of what cinema, as an art form can do, and should be remembered and championed, as the infamous Shower Sequence is in the Hitchcock film Psycho. Brilliant, poetic, disturbing, it now underscores the depravity of those members of society who have access to enough disposable income that they can spare time, time that the workers simply do not have, to follow not a pleasure but a sin.
Sin is now exposed in this film, sin and redemption, in such depth, in such detail that by the end of the film, this author determined that this film is possibly the single most Christian of all films made in the 20th Century. Watching it, seeing the progression of the characters, following the new segments, this author was at one time actually possessed to begin "Hail Mary, full of Grace, blessed are you among all women..."
One sequence has always been troubling to this author: the Seven Deadly Sins and the figure of Death are shown as statuary that comes to life. Now replaced to its correct setting, and supported by a previously unseen exposure of the hero to the statuary, with his sudden, heartfelt prayer to the figure of death (as recollected, it was "Yesterday, I would not have thought of you, but today, I beg of you, please pass by my beloved.") the sequence is no longer just an oddity but a vital and important portion of the story.
The restored score, performed live at the Michigan Theater on original Barton organ, was in and of itself a revelation. The music has hints of music even now considered to be experimental. Several musical passages sound more like Philip Glass than anything else. This author had the great personal pleasure of meeting the performer (Dr. Steven Ball, http://www.stevenball.com/TheaterOrgan.htm ), the organist received two separate and well deserved standing ovations.
There are portions of this film that now bring tears to the eyes, as well as swelling emotional responses that have rendered every other existing print obsolete. This is a work of genius and should be enjoyed by anyone who holds the film experience a great pleasure.
With the incompleteness of the current restoration, this author holds in his heart the notion that someday, while he still lives, that the entire film will, someday, be returned to its fullest glory.
It is a Must See.
From the Internet Movie Data Base (imdb.com): In a futuristic city sharply divided between the working class and the city planners, the son of the city's mastermind falls in love with a working class prophet who predicts the coming of a savior to mediate their differences.
What follows, now, is a rant about the brilliance of this film. Much of this implies a certain understanding of the previously available versions.
The current version of Metropolis, now available from Kino Video, is an incomplete restoration. A recent discovery in South America of approximately 30 minutes of previously thought to be missing footage was edited into the existing prints. Prior versions had been found, and this new nearly-restored version made great use of everything that had gone before as well as the newly-discovered missing pieces.
The editing process was directly attached to the existing score that was written to accompany the performance of the film. The score makes references to certain events that transpire in the story line, and the result, incomplete as it is, is now the closest thing to The Definitive Version of this master work.
The first thing that was noticed by this author was that the new South American footage was not cleaned up, not remastered. That was a disappointment, at first. There is a torn, damaged quality that is, at first, more than a little annoying. Having seen several severely damaged classics on the Criterion Collection series, this author is very aware of how current digital technology can be used to restore damaged visual images to an approximation of their original quality.
This choice to NOT do so lead to a moment, however, in the opening of the film that startled this author to such an extent that there was a verbal outcry, and the companion (Mr. Scot Murphy) noticed it. Quickly using the formula of 24 frames per second, and the approximate time of that clip (about 1.5 seconds), this author determined that the piece of damaged footage was about 36 frames in length.
From that moment forward, the realization dawned: it had to be presented in its damaged form, as that was the only way for those who have seen the other versions could identify just how flawed every existing available print had been.
Entire subplots were woven into the fabric of what was a familiar story. This author has seen Metropolis many times, and the Giorgio Moroder re-creation from the 1980's (still unavailable on DVD!! Crime against film...), went so far as to colorize the film to the original specifications: the original was hand-tinted, a practice that is rarely identified. Several classic silent films have bursts of color.
One moment in the film, where our hero, Freder takes the place of a worker, is rightly remembered as one of the high points in all of cinema; the mindless physical labor of standing before a giant circular gauge, the worker has to move two hands on the face of the gauge to match a pair of flashing lights. What is returned to us is that worker's subplot. In the Morodor version, a recently dismissed employee, now working for the son, becomes seduced by the lure of a decadent night club. Here, we now see it was the worker the hero had replaced.
The recently dismissed employee mentioned above has a fuller story, and he is harassed by the hero's father via a thug. The thug has multiple parts, the same actor playing several roles, wildly divergent from the others but slowly integrating into one character. This, in itself, is something that modern cinema has attempted but largely failed to do with this level of coherency and poignancy.
The villain of the piece, a demented soul named (of all things) Rotwang. With a lengthy sequence found in South America, a previously missing back story comes into focus: both Rotwang and Joh Frederson (the father of the hero) were deeply in love with Hel, the mother of the hero. The sequence brings a level of depth that shakes a lot of the prior understanding of the film to such an extent that this author was forced to study while viewing.
The Whore Of Babylon sequence, now longer and more fully realized, has been elevated in the mind of this author as one of the most perfect example of what cinema, as an art form can do, and should be remembered and championed, as the infamous Shower Sequence is in the Hitchcock film Psycho. Brilliant, poetic, disturbing, it now underscores the depravity of those members of society who have access to enough disposable income that they can spare time, time that the workers simply do not have, to follow not a pleasure but a sin.
Sin is now exposed in this film, sin and redemption, in such depth, in such detail that by the end of the film, this author determined that this film is possibly the single most Christian of all films made in the 20th Century. Watching it, seeing the progression of the characters, following the new segments, this author was at one time actually possessed to begin "Hail Mary, full of Grace, blessed are you among all women..."
One sequence has always been troubling to this author: the Seven Deadly Sins and the figure of Death are shown as statuary that comes to life. Now replaced to its correct setting, and supported by a previously unseen exposure of the hero to the statuary, with his sudden, heartfelt prayer to the figure of death (as recollected, it was "Yesterday, I would not have thought of you, but today, I beg of you, please pass by my beloved.") the sequence is no longer just an oddity but a vital and important portion of the story.
The restored score, performed live at the Michigan Theater on original Barton organ, was in and of itself a revelation. The music has hints of music even now considered to be experimental. Several musical passages sound more like Philip Glass than anything else. This author had the great personal pleasure of meeting the performer (Dr. Steven Ball, http://www.stevenball.com/TheaterOrgan.htm ), the organist received two separate and well deserved standing ovations.
There are portions of this film that now bring tears to the eyes, as well as swelling emotional responses that have rendered every other existing print obsolete. This is a work of genius and should be enjoyed by anyone who holds the film experience a great pleasure.
With the incompleteness of the current restoration, this author holds in his heart the notion that someday, while he still lives, that the entire film will, someday, be returned to its fullest glory.
It is a Must See.
Suvai (restaurant review)
On 12 September 2010, I had to incredible pleasure to encounter an establishment in the city of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Located at 217 S. State Street, next to the State Theater, the front of the restaurant is easily passed by, but fortunately for me, and my taste buds, I was with a good friend (Mr. Scot Murphy) who suggested that we inspect this place, and I am most grateful he made that suggestion.
The menu that day offered a buffet at $9.95 per person, so that was the route that we chose to follow. Entering, the interior of the restaurant was inviting, the decor eye-catching and the space intimate where so many others would have been confining.
The wait staff was, to a soul, open and willing to assist. One in particular suggested certain dishes and a wonder combination of chutneys to improve the already superior displayed foods.
There is no way to single out a specific dish. The curried goat was a huge hit for both of us, there was a dish that included baby eggplant that was To Die For, and a vegetable stew that was described repeatedly as magnificent.
Buffet line style service is rife with potential to go horribly wrong, but not when the staff is focused totally on the dining experience. The staff at Suvai was attentive to everything.
Both Scot and I filled two plates and enjoyed cups of soups and stews. Seasoning and spices within Indian cuisine can be intimidating, on occasion reaching what I refer to as Test Of Manhood Hot. Here, the spices were flawlessly balanced, each bite an explosion of flavor and texture. This balancing act is not to be taken lightly; this restaurant is a perfect, flawless example of what can be done with a cuisine and menu that can often intimidate those inexperienced in the spices and cooking style.
The highest praise I can offer, then is this: if you have always wanted to try Indian cuisine, or if you have a taste for it and wish to introduce others to the wonders of India, Suvai of Ann Arbor is the finest example I have yet encountered for such an experience .
To miss out on this superior experience is to cause a deficit in dining pleasure.
The menu that day offered a buffet at $9.95 per person, so that was the route that we chose to follow. Entering, the interior of the restaurant was inviting, the decor eye-catching and the space intimate where so many others would have been confining.
The wait staff was, to a soul, open and willing to assist. One in particular suggested certain dishes and a wonder combination of chutneys to improve the already superior displayed foods.
There is no way to single out a specific dish. The curried goat was a huge hit for both of us, there was a dish that included baby eggplant that was To Die For, and a vegetable stew that was described repeatedly as magnificent.
Buffet line style service is rife with potential to go horribly wrong, but not when the staff is focused totally on the dining experience. The staff at Suvai was attentive to everything.
Both Scot and I filled two plates and enjoyed cups of soups and stews. Seasoning and spices within Indian cuisine can be intimidating, on occasion reaching what I refer to as Test Of Manhood Hot. Here, the spices were flawlessly balanced, each bite an explosion of flavor and texture. This balancing act is not to be taken lightly; this restaurant is a perfect, flawless example of what can be done with a cuisine and menu that can often intimidate those inexperienced in the spices and cooking style.
The highest praise I can offer, then is this: if you have always wanted to try Indian cuisine, or if you have a taste for it and wish to introduce others to the wonders of India, Suvai of Ann Arbor is the finest example I have yet encountered for such an experience .
To miss out on this superior experience is to cause a deficit in dining pleasure.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Film review: Hard Candy - (2005)
Directed by David Slade, starring Ellen (Juno) Page and Patrick (Watchmen) Wilson, featuring Sandra Oh.
A cat and mouse thriller, mostly confined to one home and two characters. A harsh and disturbing examination of pedophilia: not for the squeamish. Nothing here too grotesque, just straightforward, and really, isn't that enough?
Page's performance here is amazing. The phrase "just a kid" takes on a whole new depth: think of Kids (1995), with its ugly and unrelenting viewpoint. Her character, and the way she presents it here, shows an Ellen Ripley (from the Alien franchise) as a teen: no bovine excrement accepted.
Wilson is sly, sneaky, creepy and weak, sick and tormented. Nuanced and subtle, his performance goes from the "I want this" to "I'm sick, please help" and everywhere in-between. A difficult part but done with style and substance.
Oh is mentioned because, well, she is Sandra Oh.
In the extras on the DVD, the director stated that the audiences that saw Hard Candy were evenly divided into thirds: loved it, hated it and "I'll have to get back to you on that." Slade said that response made it a total success in his mind, and I would concur.
This is the kind of film that should inspire long, intense conversations and fierce debate. Worthy of owning, but with the codicil: it is not an easy film to watch.
A cat and mouse thriller, mostly confined to one home and two characters. A harsh and disturbing examination of pedophilia: not for the squeamish. Nothing here too grotesque, just straightforward, and really, isn't that enough?
Page's performance here is amazing. The phrase "just a kid" takes on a whole new depth: think of Kids (1995), with its ugly and unrelenting viewpoint. Her character, and the way she presents it here, shows an Ellen Ripley (from the Alien franchise) as a teen: no bovine excrement accepted.
Wilson is sly, sneaky, creepy and weak, sick and tormented. Nuanced and subtle, his performance goes from the "I want this" to "I'm sick, please help" and everywhere in-between. A difficult part but done with style and substance.
Oh is mentioned because, well, she is Sandra Oh.
In the extras on the DVD, the director stated that the audiences that saw Hard Candy were evenly divided into thirds: loved it, hated it and "I'll have to get back to you on that." Slade said that response made it a total success in his mind, and I would concur.
This is the kind of film that should inspire long, intense conversations and fierce debate. Worthy of owning, but with the codicil: it is not an easy film to watch.
Psychedelic Soul by The Temptations (remastered) - Review
They could out sing, out dance, out perform and outclass anyone, anywhere, at any time. It is the harsh attitude malfunction of this writer that The Tempts were beyond a doubt the finest vocal group to come out of Motown (in itself enough to cause fistfights), if not the entire era in which they recorded.
The remastered version of this spectacular album runs two CD's long, and to hear it with the extra cuts, previously unreleased versions of classics will be a revelation for those who think that funk/soul and especially Motown was incapable of going into the Sgt. Pepper or Bitches Brew territory.
The Fabulous Funk Brothers were never so well served as they are here, and that includes the must-have 20th Century Masters Millennium collection. The FFB are given more room to run and their longer leads into the songs as well as their stronger backing of the five powerhouse voices is amazing.
This is the kind of musical revelation that is unworthy of downloading. It is the kind of re-working and remastering that makes the actual, physical purchase a requirement. It in and of itself renders greatest hits packages and the monster 5-disc Emperors Of Soul box set obsolete.
Ball Of Confusion here clocks in at 4:09, Psychedelic Shack
runs 6:22, Runaway Child Running Wild 9:35, and Papa Was A Rollin' Stone has been brought to 12:04. I cannot fathom having ever heard Papa Was A Rollin' Stone in the form here, more strings, stronger, fuller: how was that possible? It was flawless to begin with, one of the greatest shining moments of the era, possibly the single greatest moment in Motown: that bass line, the way the voices sneak in and around each other, taunting the lyrics... amazing.
The Tempts here also walk up to War, made famous by Edwin Starr, and claim it for themselves.
Front to back, a magnificent statement.
The remastered version of this spectacular album runs two CD's long, and to hear it with the extra cuts, previously unreleased versions of classics will be a revelation for those who think that funk/soul and especially Motown was incapable of going into the Sgt. Pepper or Bitches Brew territory.
The Fabulous Funk Brothers were never so well served as they are here, and that includes the must-have 20th Century Masters Millennium collection. The FFB are given more room to run and their longer leads into the songs as well as their stronger backing of the five powerhouse voices is amazing.
This is the kind of musical revelation that is unworthy of downloading. It is the kind of re-working and remastering that makes the actual, physical purchase a requirement. It in and of itself renders greatest hits packages and the monster 5-disc Emperors Of Soul box set obsolete.
Ball Of Confusion here clocks in at 4:09, Psychedelic Shack
runs 6:22, Runaway Child Running Wild 9:35, and Papa Was A Rollin' Stone has been brought to 12:04. I cannot fathom having ever heard Papa Was A Rollin' Stone in the form here, more strings, stronger, fuller: how was that possible? It was flawless to begin with, one of the greatest shining moments of the era, possibly the single greatest moment in Motown: that bass line, the way the voices sneak in and around each other, taunting the lyrics... amazing.
The Tempts here also walk up to War, made famous by Edwin Starr, and claim it for themselves.
Front to back, a magnificent statement.
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