Myth or Mockery, Mole or Mojito?
By Steve Herte
Though
not a landmark birthday, it is special to me with all the greetings
I've received in cards, emails and postings on my Facebook page. It
feels great that so many took the time to wish their best on my 64th
year of life. Thank you all! I was most surprised at the email I
received just before leaving the office on Friday. It was from our
Area Director. That was unique in my career. After contracting a
complete bathroom makeover and a stint weeding in the garden, I
decided to complete my reviews, as I don't know whether the
opportunity will present itself. I'm attending a barbeque at my boss'
house out on Long Island. Every year is different. What will my 65th
year reveal to me?
The
day proved part disappointment and part pleasant surprise. But then,
isn't life like that? See what you think as you read. Enjoy!
Hercules (Paramount/MGM,
2014) - Director: Brett Ratner. Writers: Ryan Condal & Evan
Spiliotopoulos; based on the radical comic by Steve Moore. Cast:
Dwayne Johnson, Ian McShane, John Hurt, Rufus Sewell, Askel Hennie,
Ingrid Bolse Berdal, Reece Ritchie, Joseph Fiennes, Tobias
Santelmann, Peter Mullan, & Rebecca Ferguson. Color, 98 minutes.
For
the first time in a long time the trailers for a movie did not give
away a major part of the film. And this time I wish they had done so.
They promise the second and fourth labors of Hercules, the Nemean
Lion and the Erymanthian Boar (computer-generated of course), and
then the movie lapses from “boar” to just “bore.” The
magnificent beasts only played cameo roles before being dispatched.
For most of the hour and 38 minutes the audience slogs through two
lengthy, tiresome battle scenes, the posturing of two would-be kings
of Greece, Eurystheus (Fiennes) and Lord Cotys (Hurt), as they
manipulate Hercules into achieving their own ambitions against Rhesus
(Santelmann).
The
narration by the character Aphiaraus (McShane) sites the myth of
Hercules as the son of Zeus and the bane of Hera, Queen of the gods.
His mother named him “the glory of Hera” to soften her wrath, but
to no avail. The 12 labors were his life sentence to realize his
freedom and happiness. I was delighted to hear this. But soon the
story evolved from the fantastic to the mundane as one by one, the
classic creatures of myth were debunked before our eyes. Centaurs
became men on horseback, the Hydra transformed into men in lizard
masks, and Cerberus devolved into three monstrous wolves on three
joined chains. The trailers did not prepare me for this
disappointment.
I
give the costume and make-up department a lot of credit. Johnson
(Hercules) never looked so good in a part. The hair and beard made
the character. The costume department must not have seen the
beginning of the movie because, unless he visited a headshrinker
before donning the lion’s head and skin, it definitely would have
fit him like Rick Moranis’ headgear as Dark Helmet in Spaceballs.
Unfortunately, Dwayne did his best acting while still in his
wrestling career. In fact, the only character bordering on believable
was Amphiaraus. Fiennes came off as campy and Hurt was just old.
Berdal (Atalanta) was poetry in motion on the battlefield but wooden
in dialogue. I loved the character of Iolaus (Ritchie), who bravely
spouted tales of Hercules’ great deeds, but who was doused at every
turn by disbelief and intolerance. I felt sorry for him. Sewell
(Autolycus) started off as credible but crumbled after his line
“Shit!”
The
story showed some promise when Hercules has nightmares about the
murders of his wife and two sons - a deed of which he has become
convinced he was guilty. Even that dramatic scene was revealed as a
plot to defame him and thus force him into becoming a mercenary along
with his fellow travelers.
Condal’s
and Spiliotopoulos’ writing made the film vacillate between a
serious drama and an unintentional comedy. I was confused as to
whether I was being educated or fooled. As for young eyes viewing
this movie, parents, be aware. The two battles are wild and frantic
with swordplay and hailstorms of arrows. There’s not too much gore,
but when Hercules swings his club the sound effects are loud and
heavy. Judge accordingly to your child’s capability to handle this.
This
version of the Hercules myth (or not) will probably not be nominated
for any awards, especially not for Best Director. It seemed more
likely that the characters were directing Ratner than the reverse.
Hopefully there will be no sequel. But to end on a good note, it did
make me pull out my old Edith Hamilton book of Greek and Roman myths
and reread the part about Hercules.
Rating:
2 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Los
Americanos
305
Church Street (on Walker), New York
Many
years of working in downtown Manhattan and making my reservations on
OpenTable.com have reduced the field of new dining venues greatly and
it’s only because of New York’s endless diversity that I keep
finding new and interesting culinary adventures. For a long time
Church Street has been severely lacking in fine dining establishments
until Jean George Vongerichten moved in and started the ball rolling.
He has since moved out but places keep springing up.
Los
Americanos has been open for 15 months, serving a diverse Latino menu
encompassing South America, Mexico and the Caribbean. The corner
property is decorated in bright colors and sports a jaguar logo on
the window. This implies the casual, fun atmosphere inside.
The décor
suggests a diner/café with a sense of humor. The gold tinsel canopy
over the bar evoked a giggle when I first saw it, but as I looked
around the 15-table room I gained a respect for the decorator. There
were tchotchkes as well as objéts d’art (one
looked like a good Modigliani copy). The one piece that really caught
my eye was a mirror etched in black depicting a black panther
apparently protecting the Twin Towers of the former World Trade
Center. Though I tried I couldn’t uncover the story behind that
one.
When
asked by the young lady at the Captain’s Station where I preferred
to sit I chose a window-seat. When I tried to squeeze between two of
the red-topped tables the metal lining the side caught in my slacks
and became partially disconnected. “Is that supposed to happen?”
I asked. “Oh, we’ve had trouble with that before. Would you like
another table?” After popping the lining back in place I told her
no, I would work with this table (the location was perfect). She
presented me with the menus for food and drink, and a bottle of tap
water and filled a glass.
I had just opened to the cocktail list when
my server, Eddy, appeared and asked if I was ready to order. He was
ghostly pale, almost clean-shaven (head and beard), incredibly young,
and the black T-shirt and shorts made him appear even paler. I
couldn’t help but notice the enormous gold-sequined number eight on
his chest (the day of his birth, I learned later).
I ordered a
cocktail, the “Under the Volcano,” a surprisingly fiery
concoction involving Mezcal, jalapeno, rosemary, aromatic bitters
fresh lime and Sal De Gusano (an Oaxacan spice made
from sea salt blended with toasted and ground agave worms and chile
costeño. It was amazing and no, I didn’t know what Sal De
Gusano was before I tasted it.
I
explained to Eddy my considerable appetite and slow-eating habits and
proceeded to order my three-course meal. I chose my first course from
the “Bocaditos” (small bites) section, the second from the
“Ceviches” section and the third from “Platos Principales”
(main dishes). When Eddy left me to place my order I considered the
wine list, which was quite reasonably priced. I chose the 2007 Tannat
Reserva from Ysem, Uruguay (having had wine from Uruguay, I know it’s
reliably good). It was deep red, fruity, delicious, and just
assertive enough to complement each dish. When the young lady (who
admitted she was no sommelier) served the wine I noted the excessive
warmth of the glass but the wine was the correct temperature.
The
first course arrived, the Mole Empanadas - crispy triangles filled
with ground beef and chocolate/chili flavor sided with a chimichuri
topping. They were wonderful and gone before I knew it.
The
next dish was partially a curiosity and partially Monica’s choice.
It was Shrimp Ecuadorian, a ceviche of popcorn shrimp in a vinegary,
only slightly spicy marinade topped with actual popcorn. Served in a
stemmed glass bowl it looked more like a dessert than a second course
but it was fantastic.
The
main course arrived before I was finished with the ceviche but I
didn’t mind. The Striped Bass resting on Black Beans was steaming
hot and the ceviche cooled my mouth between bites of flaky fish with
a crispy top skin. It was a little bit fishier than I remember
striped bass to be but I finished it all wondering if there was
anything resembling bread to finish the sauce. There were soft
tortillas as a side dish but I missed that in my first read of the
menu.
I
was ready for dessert but the three choices - Flan, Churros, or ice
cream - didn’t interest me, so I decided to have a side dish for
dessert. Another server asked me my choice and I responded “the
Yucca Fries.” “That comes with Chipotle Mayonnaise. Would you
like catsup as well?” “Why, when you have Chipotle Mayonnaise?”
“It’s a Banana Catsup mixed with Chili. I think you’ll like
it.” I did. I liked it a lot. The slightly salty, crunchy fries
were excellent with either dip.
Eddy
reappeared and I was talking after dinner drink. At first, he seemed
unsure what I meant. I explained that there must be a dessert-style
Tequila at the bar and when he conferred with the bartender I saw him
reach for the exact bottle I suspected: Tequila infused with cherry
flavor. It was a fine cordial and the double espresso served in a
double shot-glass was one of the best coffees I’ve ever had. I let
them know.
Though
Los Americanos started off feeling like a corner diner, it finished
up being a Latino café with good food and a sense of humor, a
definite improvement to the dining diversity on Church Street.
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