Monuments In Southeast Asia
By Steve Herte
In
case you’re wondering how long it takes to write a review, I
started at 11:00 am and finished at 3:30 pm. But every good story
needs time and I had two to tell. After a busy, sometimes emotional,
workweek it’s a release to relate Friday’s fun. Seriously, I
learned of a friend hospitalized with two heart attacks and a
marriage break-up in less than 24 hours. But enough of that, let’s
enjoy Dinner and a Movie!
The
Monuments Men (Columbia,
Fox 2000, 2014) – Director: George Clooney. Writers: George
Clooney, Grant Heslov (s/p), Robert M. Edsel, Bret Witter (book).
Cast: George Clooney, Matt Damon, Bill Murray, Cate Blanchett, John
Goodman, Jean Dujardin, Hugh Bonneville, Bob Balaban, Dimitri
Leonidas, & Justus Von Dohnányi. Color, 118 min.
The
entertainment factor of war movies has always escaped me, especially
any war since the invention of firearms. The very concept of being
able to kill another person from a great distance without knowing or
caring about him is extremely cruel and dehumanizing. Fortunately,
this movie kept that aspect to a minimum. This is a very different
story set toward the end of World War II. A motley platoon of seven
men is gathered by Frank Stokes (Clooney) to seek out, protect and
retrieve great works of art stolen and secreted away by the Nazis.
His crew of James Granger (Damon), Richard Campbell (Murray), Walter
Garfield (Goodman), Jean Claude Clermont (Dujardin), Donald Jeffries
(Bonneville) and Preston Savitz (Balaban) are not soldiers but
architects and art experts who know the real thing from the fake.
The
movie begins with priests dismantling the Ghent Altarpiece, a large
segmented painting on wood, and attempting to hide it before Hitler’s
army finds it and in Italy, people working frantically to build a
sand-bag wall to hide and protect Da Vinci’s “Last Supper” from
bombs. Stokes’ men go through basic training, as do other soldiers
and are brought to Europe at Normandy. They get a major lead at an
American encampment when Sam Epstein (Leonidas) overhears and
translates the private conversations of German prisoners. From there
they split up into pairs of two (except for Jeffries who goes solo to
Bruges, Belgium) and track down the various paintings, sculptures and
precious works of creative society taken from homes, churches and
museums.
Meanwhile,
in another scene, we meet Claire Simone (Blanchett) working both as
secretary to Viktor Stahl (Von Dohnányi) and secretly helping the
Resistance through her brother. It seems to be going well until Stahl
makes the connection when her brother is killed in the act of
smuggling art works. Eventually Simone is captured by the Allies and
imprisoned. Granger is sent to speak to her to discover how much she
knows. His French-Canadian dialect is so bad that she insists he
speak English (this is a running gag every time Damon tries to speak
French), and they slowly develop a rapport. He eventually obtains a
logbook from her that categorizes every piece of art and where it was
taken.
Jeffries
makes it to Bruges to find Michelangelo’s “Madonna and Child”
still in place, only to be shot dead when seven or eight Nazis arrive
(three of whom are officers) to remove it (amazingly without a block
and tackle). Back in France, Stokes learns that the Ghent Altarpiece
has also been stolen. Indications are that the artworks were heading
to Siegen, Germany, but when the team arrives in Siegen, the town is
in such rubble they don’t even know they’re there. While in
Siegen, they learn of two more towns, Merkers and Altaussee, as well
as the Castle Neuschwanstein on the Rhine. Thanks to Epstein’s
clever deduction they connect the significance of the three towns by
the major mines located in them (one copper and two salt).
At
Siegen, they find a major cache of art in the copper mine. The war
has ended and Germany has surrendered by the time they get to
Merkers. But all they find is the charred remains of Nazi
flame-throwers. (According to an edict from Hitler: if Germany falls
or he is killed, all is to be destroyed.) A partial frame reveals all
that’s left of a Picasso. However, they discover a “storage room”
full of gold bricks and barrels full of gold teeth. The next thing
you know the media is congratulating the Allied leaders at a
high-profile photo-shoot and giving credit where credit was not due.
“They don’t care a thing about art, but gold they care about,”
says Stokes. At Neuschwanstein, a huge trove of sculptures is found,
but not the Bruges “Madonna and Child.” The miners in the town of
Altaussee managed to blow up the entrances to the salt mine before
the Nazis could destroy the art inside. A small explosion later and
the mine is reopened. In the end it was estimated over 5 million
pieces of art culture were recovered by this team who were now only
five (Clermont was shot in field when he and Garfield stopped to rest
– he should have taken a clue from the horse that ran off
suddenly).
The
Monuments Men is a good film telling an excellent story
(based on actual fact) about something positive being done at an
eminently negative period of history. It will never be a great film
because of the direction and the writing, which were both
lackadaisical. With the exception of Blanchett (who was fabulous),
the whole cast were playing themselves. Maybe that was intentional,
but I hope not. As usual, the marionette version of Damon from Team
America did a better job of acting than Matt himself. The
talent of both Murray and Goodman talents was wasted.
The
humor in the movie depended on repeated lines and one running gag.
There is a scene where Damon announces that he thinks he has stepped
on a land mine. “Why did you do that?” says Clooney. Then, when
Goodman enters the scene he gives the same response to the
revelation. (These are the jokes, son.) Even the soundtrack was
so-so: the music attempted to soar but sounded so forced it fell
flat. Otherwise Monuments Men is a clean film the
Legion of Decency would approve (no sex, no f-bombs, no gratuitous
violence); but it also has no pathos and very little drama; with the
suspense (where it should have been) not supported by the soundtrack.
Hitchcock would have left the building mid-way. It borders on being a
documentary.
Rating:
3½ out of 5 Martini glasses.
Khe-Yo
157
Duane Street (near West Broadway), New York
The
team of Executive Chef Soulayphet Schwader and Marc Forgione is
responsible for this seven-month old restaurant featuring dishes
inspired by the cuisine of Laos. When I heard that country’s name I
couldn’t resist making this my next dining experience. It actually
completes my Southeast Asian collection. I have visited Vietnamese
restaurants (quite a few) and several Thai establishments; a couple
of Burmese, and one visit each to Cambodian (in Boston), Malaysian,
Singaporean and Indonesian restaurants. As this was the only Laotian,
I was ready for novelty.
The
location of Khe-Yo (they pronounce it Key-Oh) was, by my past
experience a French restaurant called Tapis Rouge and more recently
Duane Park – both fine dining. The façade is dark wood with a
little bas-relief filigree over the front window and a small hanging
sign with the restaurant’s name in gold. Inside, I had to squeeze
past the lively bar crowd to get to the Captain’s Station at the
end of the bar only to discover a packed house. Every one of the 24
tables in the open-brick walled space with occasional dark green
drapes was occupied, with more than half the occupants being Asian.
This was both a bad sign and a good one. Fortunately I was early for
my reservation but I had to wait. On the other hand, the large
proportion of Asian customers assured me the food was authentic and
desirable.
Shortly
after my reservation time arrived I was seated at a table next to the
end of the bar with a good view of the room. The occasional
spotlights along the tops of the walls barely augmented the muted 15
bare bulb chandelier in the middle of the room looking – for all
intents and purposes – like a squatting spider. Individual votive
candles on the tables added a softer glow to the room.
My
waiter, Tenzing, arrived to get my water choice and proffer the
simple menu card (wine and cocktails on the reverse side). He was to
be my guide to the heights of Laotian cuisine. From the cocktail list
I found the drink called “Lao-Lao” interesting and indeed it was.
The butterscotch-colored concoction was sweet and sour at the same
time with a slight twinge of chili. You might say it prepared me for
things to come. Next to arrive was a warm hand-towel to cleanse my
fingers for the very same things.
The
wine list was entirely French, which I thought appropriate since
Indochina was once under French control and Laos was a part of it. I
chose a 2011 Syrah/Grenache varietal called “Sauvage” from Anne
Pichon vineyards in Ventoux, a medium red with a spicy aftertaste
that proved itself worthy throughout the meal.
The
next thing to arrive was, per Tenzing, Laotian-style “bread and
butter.” A good-sized bamboo steamer full of sticky rice and a
wooden tray with dishes of a spicy sauce called “Bang-Bang” on
one end and an eggplant paste on the other. The menu advised that
sticky rice tastes better when you eat it with your hands. At first I
hesitated putting my fingers into the still steaming rice but it got
easier with experience. The Bang-Bang was definitely an acquired
taste, a highly spicy, sour tang that was mitigated by the cooling
effects of the eggplant paste. The combination of the two was a must.
Tenzing
assured me that the sizes of the appetizers and salads (Laap) were
small enough to have both and an entrée without ordering too much
food. So under his guidance I chose the Sien-Heng – Creekstone
Farms Sesame Beef Jerky with smoked chili sauce and fresh radishes –
as my appetizer. I had seen a picture of this dish on their website
and it intrigued me. Another flat wooden tray was placed carefully on
my table. The sesame beef jerky was nearest to me appearing like
slender dark-brown fingers of speckled driftwood. It was tender and
sweet – nothing at all what it appeared to be. At the other end of
the tray were several inch-long radishes sliced in half lengthwise.
The flavor was delicate and mild. My learning experience so far told
me that Laotian food has a spicy side, but it also has some
ingredient to mitigate the spice. Then I tasted the smoky chili paste
in the center of the tray. Whoa! Four different chilies mixed with
fig paste made a fiery-sweet amalgam not to be underestimated. I used
it sparingly between bites of jerky and radish and the dish was
wonderful.
The
Laap-Pa – Kona Kampachi salad with Fresh Mint, Kaffir Lime Leaf and
Shrimp Chips – arrived very soon after. It was a good thing neither
dish was supposed to be served hot. The lime flavor dominated the
salad with only a slight vinegary taste from the light mayonnaise.
The Kona Kampachi is a delicate game fish from Hawaii, and it added a
contrasting soft texture to the crunchy salad. The Shrimp Chips are
the first thing I’ve seen before. If you’ve ever been to a
Chinese restaurant when you first are seated and they present the hot
mustard and duck sauce with colorful light pastel puffy chips, those
are Shrimp Chips.
The
main course was Mikha-Ti – Pork Curry Noodle with Pickled Chili and
Banana Flower. This time the tray was almost square and had sides.
The bowl-full of bits of pork, delicate rice noodles and two pork
bones was disguised by the orange curry soup they were in and resting
on a banana leaf. Outside the bowl were small piles of shredded red
cabbage, bean sprouts and something that looked like green beans (I
guessed that this part was the banana flower, which I’ve seen
before in botanic gardens – it’s green) along with a small bowl
in which were three chili peppers, two bright red and one black with
a slice of lime.
Tenzing
advised me that all the ingredients outside the bowl were to be put
in the bowl at my discretion. Lying across the bowl were my
chopsticks and, after confirming with Tenzing that the black chili
was the hottest, I starting filling the bowl with the outside
ingredients. It all came together very nicely. The curry was unlike
any I’ve had before. It was lighter than the Indian curries, more
delicate than the Chinese curries, much milder than the Thai curries,
more like Malay curry – a flavorful, aromatic mildly spicy soup
with pork and noodles. The red chilies didn’t stay in long before
they got in the way and I took them out. But it still needed some
spice. I had some of the chili paste from the appetizer and that did
the trick.
I
was actually becoming full and definitely wanted to try a dessert.
They only had one, a bright pink grapefruit sorbet. It was
delightfully tart, cold and pure grapefruit. That, with a cup of hot
white tea and a glass of Kubler Absinthe (I poured it over the ice
myself) and I felt totally decadent. Khe-Yo was worth the wait and as
the only Laotian restaurant in New York will see me again.
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