We were out with L&L the other night to see The Other Boleyn Girl--Hollywood and Phillipa Gregory's version of the Henry VIII saga.
Critics dished it, but it wasn't that bad. Granted it lapses into the bodice ripping genre on more than a few occasions but I found it enjoyable. And if Gregory is to be believed, the reason Henry split from Rome is due solely to the strategic planning of Anne in her mission to get rid of Catherine and become Queen.
Afterwards we decided to go for dinner so popped into the local PF Chang's only to be told the wait was two hours. It's a pretty good Chinese restaurant, the food's cooked to order so there's would have been that additional wait after we ordered, but it's not good enough to merit that sort of wait. The reason for such a long wait is because PF Chang's is new to the area.
Off we went to Ooka, our local Japanese restaurant where everyone except Larry ordered Tempura--L&L not liking fish, they ordered chicken while I ordered different kinds of fish.
Towards the end of the meal, Lynne held up something that looked like a bit of sausage skin and said, "What is this? I keep getting it in and it's chewy and disgusting."
We all looked at it intently. "Looks like shrimp shell," Lee said.
"No, it's not," Lynne said. "I had Tempura here before and I can't remember this in it. It's very different."
"Maybe it's something vegetable," Larry said. (a piece of Carrot, broccoli and eggplant done Tempura style had also come with it.)
All of a sudden the penny dropped. When the food had arrived at the table, it was beautifully presented in the shape of a pyramid with a huge onion ring keeping it bound together. The entire arrangement was resting on a base of paper doilies.
"Lynne," I said, "You're not supposed to eat the doilie. That's only for presentation."
"What do you mean?"
We poked about her plate and showed her the last small piece of the three doiles they'd covered her plate with to make it look pretty. Lynne hadn't noticed them because the plate was also white.
At first, when we told the Japanese waitress, she went very pale.
"You sick?" she asked.
"No, we're just showing you what she ate."
Suddenly, she realized we weren't complaining and her face broke into a huge smile. "Very funny," she said. He, he, he, he. "Very funny. You want desert now?"
Showing posts with label PF Chang's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PF Chang's. Show all posts
Tuesday
Sunday
Bit of a downer
So our close friends L&L and ourselves decided to get together yesterday and go see a film followed by supper at the new PF Chang's that's just opened near us.
What to see, we mulled. What to see.
I suggested There will be Blood. First, because Daniel Day-Lewis is a first rate actor, second because it's been nominated for eight Oscars, and third because there's been buzz that it's a brilliant film.
Everyone agreed on my choice.
Day-Lewis as Daniel Plainview is magnificent (as usual), but I'm afraid one actor does not a brilliant film make. Director Paul Thomas Anderson's film is one great amorphous chasm of darkness. The plot, what there is of it, is basically dirt-poor, ambitious early twentieth Century American strikes gold (in this case oil) in California, becomes a tycoon, and retains his ruthless, competitive nature right to the last scene of the movie. We've had so many of these Hollywood stories I can't believe they think the public's going to hail it cutting edge cinema because of the cat-wailing musical scores and effects, which include an oil derrick burning and the deaths of a couple of oil miners and the murder of a man who claims to be Plainview's half-brother. (I will say Day-Lewis is nothing other than spell-binding when he realizes the man is not who he says he is--the tiniest facial expression speaks volumes and it is this scene which will probably win him the Oscar.)
A few twists are thrown in--the fact that Plainview's son is not his son, but rather an orphan whom he picked off the street and called his son because the presence of a fresh-faced child would help him cheat the farmers of their land, and a preacher who's nothing but a cliche--does nothing but highlight the lack of a riveting plot.
At two hours and thirty minutes, the film is bloated and could have done with the services of a good editor. The last scene is gratuitous. And there is much repetition in case we're such a dumb audience we won't pick up some 'vital' point and we are required to suspend reality. For example, the son has an accident and loses his hearing and we are then expected to believe he loses his ability to speak immediately.
By the time the movie ended, we were ready for PF Chang's and a few glasses of wine. Thankfully, the meal was wonderful and the overall somber spirits sitting through this film had invoked were rapidly dispelled.
What to see, we mulled. What to see.
I suggested There will be Blood. First, because Daniel Day-Lewis is a first rate actor, second because it's been nominated for eight Oscars, and third because there's been buzz that it's a brilliant film.
Everyone agreed on my choice.
Day-Lewis as Daniel Plainview is magnificent (as usual), but I'm afraid one actor does not a brilliant film make. Director Paul Thomas Anderson's film is one great amorphous chasm of darkness. The plot, what there is of it, is basically dirt-poor, ambitious early twentieth Century American strikes gold (in this case oil) in California, becomes a tycoon, and retains his ruthless, competitive nature right to the last scene of the movie. We've had so many of these Hollywood stories I can't believe they think the public's going to hail it cutting edge cinema because of the cat-wailing musical scores and effects, which include an oil derrick burning and the deaths of a couple of oil miners and the murder of a man who claims to be Plainview's half-brother. (I will say Day-Lewis is nothing other than spell-binding when he realizes the man is not who he says he is--the tiniest facial expression speaks volumes and it is this scene which will probably win him the Oscar.)
A few twists are thrown in--the fact that Plainview's son is not his son, but rather an orphan whom he picked off the street and called his son because the presence of a fresh-faced child would help him cheat the farmers of their land, and a preacher who's nothing but a cliche--does nothing but highlight the lack of a riveting plot.
At two hours and thirty minutes, the film is bloated and could have done with the services of a good editor. The last scene is gratuitous. And there is much repetition in case we're such a dumb audience we won't pick up some 'vital' point and we are required to suspend reality. For example, the son has an accident and loses his hearing and we are then expected to believe he loses his ability to speak immediately.
By the time the movie ended, we were ready for PF Chang's and a few glasses of wine. Thankfully, the meal was wonderful and the overall somber spirits sitting through this film had invoked were rapidly dispelled.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)