The Silver Lined Bierhaus
By Steve Herte
Rule
to remember: Expect nothing and you'll never be disappointed. That perfectly
described what happened Friday night. I didn't know what to expect of the movie
and it delivered in spades. I expected more from the restaurant than it could
possible deliver and was mildly disappointed. Good thing it was only restaurant
2,519. I like to have great experiences on the round numbers. So next time, who
knows? But for now, enjoy.
Silver Linings Playbook (Weinstein, 2012) – Director: David O.
Russell. Cast: Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence, Robert De Niro, Jacki Weaver,
Chris Tucker, and Brea Bree.
This
romance about interpersonal relationships and insanity attained its high rating
despite the language (which was strangely appropriate) and its lack of any
special effects (which were irrelevant). Russell’s writing and
direction gave the characters (all of them, not just the leads) the tools to be
so believably annoying that one falls in love with them.
Cooper
plays Pat Solitano, who has just spent time in a mental institution in
Baltimore and who, through the finagling of his mother Dolores (Weaver) gets
out early. Everyone in the audience can tell that he’s neither cured nor
stable. He vacillates from moments of deep psychological insight and paranoid frenzy.
Nevertheless, his therapy has given him an outline for sanity – finding Silver
Linings – and a motto, “Excelsior!” In his more cogent instances he believes he
will get back together with his wife Nikki (Bree) – who has long since sold the
house and moved on with her life – and everything will be back to normal.
We
learn the reason for Pat’s institutionalization later in the movie. He came
home one night and heard his wedding song, Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amor,”
playing and a trail of Nikki’s clothing leading up to the bathroom. Thinking
she would like him to join her in the shower he follows the trail, but learns
the shower is already crowded with her lover, whom he beats bloody and
senseless. Diagnosis: bipolar disorder.
Pat’s
father, Pat Senior (DeNiro), doesn’t know his son was released against medical
advice and is delighted to have his “good luck charm” home. He has lost his job
and is now making a living at making book on sports games involving
Philadelphia teams. He’s also obsessive-compulsive and superstitious at the
same time. He believes that if his son watches the games with him, and he has
his lucky green handkerchief, they will win and he’ll make enough money to open
the restaurant he always dreamed about.
Pat’s
Mom, we learn at the end of the movie (Spoiler Alert), has other ideas.
She knows Nikki’s situation and arranges a series of “chance meetings” between
her son and Nikki’s best friend Tiffany (Lawrence) who, it just so happens, is
just as crazy as her son and a perfect match.
The
first day home, Pat Junior breaks both restraining orders imposed on him by the
court by visiting Nikki’s home and the school where he formerly taught. He
meets Tiffany and makes a deal with her: If she gets a letter to Nikki, he will
help her compete in a local dance contest.
There
are several good scenes in Silver Linings
Playbook showcasing the talents of the actors. Twice at three and four in
the morning Pat Junior wakes his parents (and the whole neighborhood on the
second occasion) first to tell them how stupid A Farewell to Arms is after
having chucked the book out a closed window, and second to obsess about finding
his wedding video, a scene which gets manically physical.
Tiffany
and Pat are getting closer with the dance rehearsals. Pat Senior decides to bet
all of his savings on the Eagles/Giants game and insists his son attend the
game (since he himself has been banned from the stadium for fighting). Pat
Junior gets into a fight, the Eagles lose, and Pat Senior cannot understand how
his lucky charm could let him down. After listing several Philadelphia team
successes coinciding with Pat Junior and herself being together and explaining
Pat’s motto, “Excelsior!” as being the same as that of the State of New York,
and logically concluding that it was a really dumb idea for him to be at the
Eagles/Giants game, Tiffany gets through to Papa Solitano.
Much
to the entire family’s dismay, Dad sets up a double-or-nothing bet with his
friend on the Eagles/Cowboys game with a parlay that Tiffany and Pat score at
least a 5 in the dance contest. There are a few white-knuckle moments and the
dance contest looks unwinnable, but they connect on the dance floor, blow the
big move toward the end, achieve the average score of 5, the Eagles win and
everyone is joyous. Even though the other dancers (who are dressed and dance
like Dancing with the Stars
contestants) look on in mocking shock.
Nikki
turns up at the dance contest. Tiffany thinks Pat will dump her to get back
with his wife and leaves, but he chases her, tells her he fell in love with her
at first meeting, and the movie is complete.
There
are several Oscar-worthy performances in this film (eight nominations). The
writing is very clever and mildly humorous (some in the audience were laughing
out loud – must have been America’s Funniest
Home Videos lovers) and the cinematography was excellent. I even recognized
the Llanerch Diner in one scene where I stopped for lunch a long time ago, and
Chestnut Street where the last scene is played out. And I loved it when, at a
crucial moment of introspection for Pat Junior, Led Zeppelin’s “What Is and
What Should Never Be” plays. For a movie that I had my doubts about, it
delivered more than I could have imagined.
Rating: 5 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Rating: 5 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Bierhaus NYC
712 3rd Avenue (45th Street), New York
This
restaurant is only the 28th German restaurant I have dined at
in my career and only the 26th in the United States (the others
were in Germany and Canada), so considering the rarity of the cuisine and my
many pleasant experiences at German eateries, I was anticipating something
wundebar.
Upon
rounding the corner of 45th Street onto 3rd Avenue
I located the second-story chalet-style façade with its charming gingerbread
ornamentation. At street level however, was an empty, dismal glassed-in space
and I started to wonder how I would get up there when the Munich-blue canvas
door appeared. On opening the door a large brick-house of a man in a long black
coat and matching knit cap was descending the stairs, so I turned aside to let
him pass (he looked like a tall Sergeant Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes on
steroids). He was the doorman.
Okay,
so I climbed the stairs as the loud music tried to push me back down them. I
couldn’t imagine what I had gotten myself into this time. At the top of the
stairs were two slim girls, one in black (the hostess) and one in a pink dirndl
(a waitress). I bent down and shouted my reservation to them and the waitress
led me to one of the long heavy wooden tables with equally long, heavy wooden
benches. Already seated at the table were eight young ladies, drinking and
awaiting number nine. Oh well, so much for awkwardness.
There
was no place to hang my coat so I draped it over the end of the bench. The
young ladies were deep in animated conversation amongst themselves, and I
decided to take in the décor. To the left of the stairs is the bar, dominating
that side of the room. The long tables stand in ranks leading away from it to a
glassed-in verandah overlooking the avenue. In the extreme right corner is the
stage, where a live, four-piece band (two guitars, keyboard and drums) was
making the sound everyone seemed to be trying to talk over. Don’t get me wrong
– the band was really good. They did some excellent reproductions of Beatles’
songs and Billy Joel’s She’s Got a Way
and The Downeaster ‘Alexa,’ but I
would have liked to hear German songs on this occasion. The blue and white
Bavarian harlequin-patterned banners streamed from the center ceiling skylight,
from which hung an impressively heavy chandelier. Three large flat-screened TVs
played the night’s feature basketball game. That (aside from the band) severely
detracted from the overall “Oktoberfest in Munich” atmosphere, not to mention
the several bulked-up men in black patrolling the restaurant looking for unruly
patrons.
My
waitress, Hannah appeared and asked for my drink order. I was surprised at
there being only four featured beers (Bierhaus means “Beer House,”
really?) so I chose the Hofbräu Hefe Weitz in the 1.5 liter
glass for starters, a rich, fairly sweet old-style wheat beer with “a wonderful
combination of banana and clove flavors.” It was excellent, although I didn’t
get the banana and clove thing. Hannah explained the restaurant policy of
holding a credit card for the tab and returning it upon finishing, so I agreed.
The
two-page laminated menu features the Grill Menu on one side: Appetizers, Wursts,
Soups, Sandwiches and Sides; and the Traditional Items: Main Courses, Salads
and Desserts on the other. None of the appetizers attracted me, especially not
the fried sauerkraut balls or the smoked trout fillet, and certainly not the
cold cuts platter. I toyed with the idea of the Wilhelm Wurst Platter,
but then I saw that it serves 4 to 6 people. I chose the Haus Beef
Goulash to start with. It was an impressively large bowl and a nice
reddish-brown color and it had several pieces of beef in it but it was a little
too soupy (that’s why it was under the category of Soups, Steve). Sorry, but I
like authentic Hungarian Goulash. It came with two slices of toasted baguette.
I
had finished my first beer and asked Hannah for a recommendation. I tried the Hofbräu
Dunkel (Dark) Weizen (Hannah’s favorite), a dark
variant on Weissbier (literally, White Beer), mild and sweeter
but yeasty and malty. I liked it even better and stayed with it.
Normally,
in any German restaurant I avoid Sauerbraten for fear of disappointment. It’s a
dish that requires a long marinating period for the meat and therefore always
has to be prepared beforehand. However, I went against my own rule and ordered
it. One thing I noticed right away was that the unbearably cute waitresses only
took the orders and served the beer. Young men served the food. As the place
was packed with people standing around waiting for tables, there was a long
waiting time between order and delivery.
Eventually my sauerbraten platter
arrived, with two rather thick slices that were tender enough to cut with a
fork and were nicely sour; as was the gravy. The radish salad that came with it
was the most exotic item on the menu – thinly sliced pickled “pink” radishes
that surprised my taste buds with piquant flavor. Also on the plate: a sautéed
zucchini side and some mildly tasty mashed potatoes. As none of the items on
this plate was more than lukewarm, I considered sending it back but then computed
the time it would take for it to come back right and decided against that.
The
mashed potatoes wore thin on me and had me wishing I had substituted Spaetzle (home-made
noodles) but then an idea dawned. I got Hannah’s attention and ordered a
pretzel with spicy mustard. (Finally, something served hot!) Between the beer
and the pretzel I believe I had the best Bierhaus NYC has to offer.
Unfortunately, the portions were large enough to fill me to the point of
demurring on the Black Forest Cake (one of my favorites). I asked for the check
and nearly fell off the uncomfortable bench at the ridiculously low total. This
explained why the place was packed – all the cheapies and tourists. I was
already tired of shouting so I didn’t tell Hannah that I’ve paid more than that
for an appetizer. I just paid the bill, did my necessaries and descended the
stairs while “Schultz” let me out.
I
don’t know if I will return to Bierhaus NYC or not. If I do, I’ll be wearing
earplugs.
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