Dinner
and a Movie
Black
Basque
By
Steve Herte
Black
Mass (WB, 2015) – Director: Scott Cooper.
Writers: Mark Mallouk & Jez Butterworth (s/p). Dick Lehr &
Gerard O’Neill (book). Cast: Johnny Depp, Joel Edgerton, Benedict
Cumberbatch, Dakota Johnson, Kevin Bacon, Peter Sarsgaard, Jesse
Plemons, Rory Cochrane, David Harbour, Adam Scott, Corey Stoll,
Julianne Nicholson, W. Earl Brown, Bill Camp, Juno Temple, Mary Klug,
David De Beck, & Luke Ryan. Color, Rated R, 122 minutes.
“Don’t
call him ‘Whitey.’ He doesn’t like to be called that.”
Extremely good advice.
Were
it not for the lead actor in this film, I probably would not have
seen it, and I would have been much the worse for that mistake. I
admit, I haven’t followed Johnny Depp’s career from its inception
(he only caught my attention with Edward Scissorhands in
1990) but since then I’ve become a pretty avid fan. For me, he’s
the new Lon Chaney, the man of a thousand faces, and this latest role
is such a diametrical departure from Captain Jack Sparrow, I had to
see it. I didn’t even recognize him from the trailers. Otherwise,
gangster films are not my cup of tea.
In
a way, this film begins at the end and goes forward, depending on the
answers to police interrogations of Kevin Weeks (Plemons) and Steve
Flemmi (Cochrane) and various members of the Winter Hill Gang after
their capture.
Fresh
out of Alcatraz, Jimmy (Whitey) Bulger (Depp) returns to his
childhood neighborhood and rejoins his cronies in South Boston. He’s
devoted to his mother (Klug) – even though he believes she cheats
at bridge – and he loves his wife Lindsey (Johnson) and young son
Douglas (Ryan). His organization – if you can call it that,
alternately known as the Irish Mob – gets its main funding from
loan sharking and vending machine concessions. Both operations are in
direct competition with the Italian counterpart in the North End run
by the Angiulo family, who have ties to the Mafia. Both groups
control the streets of Boston in 1975 but the north is starting to
invade the south.
Enter, FBI
Agent John Connolly (Edgerton) who grew up with Bulger, and he has a
plan. He knows Jimmy would like to eliminate his competition and,
since he’s the only person who can make an alliance with him and
have it not sound like he’s “ratting” anyone out (Jimmy may be
a second-rate criminal, but he’s no rat), he meets with Jimmy and
gets him to agree. For obtaining information leading to the arrest of
the Angiulo brothers, the Winter Hill Gang will be protected from any
backlash and cleared of any wrongdoing.
John
involves Jimmy’s brother, Billy (Cumberbatch), a Massachusetts
senator and currently the most powerful man in town on the deal and
eventually convinces his boss, Charles McGuire (Bacon) that the
scheme will work. John’s best friend and co-worker, John Morris
(Harbour) loyally backs Connolly up on every stage. But John totally
misjudges Jimmy. Bad idea.
Jimmy
fills in his right-hand man, Steve Femmi, on this unusual opportunity
– who, by the way, is naturally suspicious of working with the FBI
– and he translates it as a get-out-of-jail-free card. Steve would
normally follow Jimmy blindly, but when he hears that not only would
they have the police fighting their battles for them, they could do
whatever they please, he’s in. With Kevin, they “remove” the
lesser members of the Italian mob while doing photo surveillance on a
possible hideout. But just when McGuire thinks Jimmy’s not holding
up his end of the deal and berates Connolly for making it, John
strolls in with an envelope full of eight-by-ten photos of the
Arguilo hide-out, they get a tape of the brothers plotting a hit, and
they are able to corner and capture the entire gang.
That
leaves the Winter Hill Gang now free to expand into drug dealing and
eventually the jai alai betting based in Florida. (All this and
Heaven too, without repercussions.) One member of the gang, Brian
Halloran (Sarsgaard), feels free enough to shoot two enemies at his
table in a busy restaurant and calmly walk out.
But
no one is as coldly violent or as explosive as is Jimmy. When he
loses his son to Reye syndrome, it breaks up his marriage (he blames
his wife for not taking Douglas to the doctor immediately).
Subsequently, his mother dies, and he can’t even be one of the
pallbearers – he’s too public a figure. He now loses all
restraints. Anyone that can possibly stand in his way is murdered. He
strangles Steve’s prostitute stepdaughter in front of him and
commands him to “clean up your mess” after they pick her up at
the police station. It’s a new reign of terror.
Fred
Wyshak (Stoll), a righteous hotshot prosecutor, arrives at South
Boston police station wondering why Jimmy Bulger has not been
arrested for his various crimes. John Connolly tries to explain, but
to no avail. He tries to get Billy’s help, but Billy has to think
of his own career and future and calmly throws him out of his office.
Things
go from bad to worse when Jimmy has John Martorano (Brown) gun down
Roger Wheeler (De Beck), a Tulsa businessman who had the misfortune
of buying the World Jai Alai contract, a killing easily linked to
Jimmy. And then, learning of the struggles in Ireland, he arranges
for a shipload of guns to be sent to the Irish Republican Army on the
Valhalla – which is stopped at the port by Irish customs. This is
also easily linked to the Winter Hill Gang. Wyshak and McGuire
investigate Connolly’s doings with Jimmy and it leads to Morris’
revelation of the true nature of the “alliance.”
The
story of “Jimmy Bulger, Informant to the FBI” is deliberately
leaked to the Boston Globe in 1995 and Jimmy
realizes that his days in Boston are numbered. He leaves Boston and
his gang members are arrested one by one – which brings us back to
the beginning.
Black
Mass is a powerful movie based on a true story and is a
fancy metaphor for the “Unholy Alliance” made between an FBI
agent and a mob boss. Although the acting is excellent throughout the
cast, Depp is terrifyingly superb. I actually believed he’d shoot
me if I looked at him the wrong way. The make-up department did such
a good job, that, when asked, several of Bulger’s surviving gang
members saw him and remarked, “That’s Whitey!” The only time I
could see how thick the make-up was, was in an indoor close-up.
Otherwise, it was great. It seemed like a role rehearsed so perfectly
that it would be difficult to come out of it and just be Depp again.
At
two hours and two minutes, this film had no dead spots, no shifting
in the seat (but that could have just been the comfy plush leather
rockers in the Chelsea Bow Tie Cinemas). It was either extreme
tension or action, supported by a beautifully orchestrated
soundtrack, with lots of gore and tons of vulgarity – definitely
not for kids. In fact, if the “f” word were removed from it,
there would only be 16 minutes of dialogue left.
As
my readers know, I look for the “Wow!” factor in any movie and
this one had it in spades. I see a definite Best Actor nomination
coming for Depp in the next Academy Awards. And as in the old TV
police dramas, there are brief descriptions at the end of the movie
that tell the audience what happened to the major characters. I
wasn’t surprised that it wasn’t until 2011 that the police caught
up with and arrested Bulger in Santa Monica, California. Wow!
Rating:
4 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Txikito
(pronounced, “Chih – key – toe”)
240
9th Ave. (between 24th and
25th Streets), New
York
Did
you know that West 24th Street in Manhattan makes an
“s” curve between 8th and 9th Avenues?
Neither did I until I walked from the theater to Txikito. Located in
the middle of a mini strip mall, it was almost “miss-able.” All
the shops have matching black borders above the entrances with the
names of the establishments in white script. It was a lovely evening,
weather-wise and Txikito was fully open to the sidewalk with a few
blonde-wood tables outside the restaurant proper.
Inside,
all is ponderous wood paneling and bright red tabletops lit by three
cylindrical swags over the bar on the right and circular sconces on
the walls. There are also votive candles on each table. When I
announced my reservation at the Captain’s Station, which was at the
end of the bar, the young lady gave me a choice of a seat at the bar,
a table next to the bar, or one in back. I chose the latter. From my
viewpoint, the heavy wood on the walls made it seem like I was a
passenger on a sturdy old-time sailing ship (except for the view of
9th Avenue out the front).
The
name, pronounced exactly like the Spanish “chiquito” means
“little one,” and in this case, refers to a small glass of wine.
Shortly after I was seated, my server, Amy, arrived with a pitcher of
water and the menu card (food on one side, drinks on the other). I
confirmed with her the correct sound of the restaurant name and
learned that it’s been seven years since they opened.
After
an appropriate amount of time, Amy asked if I wanted a cocktail and I
chose the El Cantábrico (Bay of Biscay) – Greenhook Old Tom gin,
Aperol, Sweet Vermouth, Fever Tree ginger beer, and lemon. I would
guess that the servers here have very little problem with spilling
drinks when Amy served mine in a half-filled plastic tumbler, which
would have worked very well as a water glass. The main flavor of the
drink came from the ginger beer and a slight kick from the gin, a
refreshing start.
The
food menu had classifications in Basque: Para Picar (for
picking or choosing), Pintxos (small plates or
appetizers, both cold and hot), Verduras y Ensaladas (greens
and salads), Del Mar (from the sea),
and Carnes (meat dishes). There was, oddly, no
side-dish category. But this was easily cleared up later, and
logically so. Basque country is situated between Spain and France and
the cuisine has influences from both. Here, the Spanish “tapas”
is the rule and a vegetable pintxo could double as a side.
Before
I delved into the menu, Amy listed the specials for the day, which
were written on a blackboard at the front of the bar and thus
unreadable from my viewpoint. She then left me to decide. Upon her
return, I was ready with three courses. She assured me that I hadn’t
chosen too much food. For the wine, I chose a Spanish varietal, the
2009 Basilio Izquierdo “Acodo,” a lovely blend of rioja,
tempranillo and garnacha. Up until Amy uncorked it, I had wondered
what the little shelf above my table on the wall was for. After she
poured and I tasted the excellent red, she placed both the bottle and
the tumbler (yes, a very informal glass) on the metal shelf. The wine
was a pleasant ruby color and a light tannin flavor with a tart grapy
overtone that eventually would match the dishes I chose. The only
drawback was that it was a little too cool in temperature for a red.
While
I waited for the wine to breathe the appetizer arrived. The Txangurro
a la Donostiarra (Donosti style crab) – a “montadito” (a
flavorful topping “riding” on a slice of baguette) of deviled
crab – was a mouth-watering enigma. I didn’t know if it was
finger-food or to be eaten with knife and fork. It turns out that
either is correct. The finely chopped crabmeat was mixed with Spanish
paprika and other spices and was delightful no matter how you ate it.
The
next course was one of the specials and was classified as salad.
The Conejo (rabbit) was a corn salad with rabbit meat
pulled off the bone in sofrito pepper sauce
(tomatoes, onion, garlic and oil). It was as colorful as it was
delicious, with the yellow corn, the pale beige meat, the green
parsley garnish and the reddish-brown sauce. The slightly spicy sauce
added interest to the sweet corn and savory rabbit.
My
main course was also the size of a “tapas” (surprise!) and I
chose it because I’ve not had beef tongue in over 20 years. (It’s
one of those things you actually liked as a child, or not.)
The Lengua, three thin slices of crispy-coated beef tongue with
mustard Española and cornichons (gerkins) was as
much a surprise to my taste buds as it was to my eyes. The meat was
so thinly sliced I really could not get the flavor I remembered but
there was no doubt about the Spanish mustard’s sting.
The cornichons flavor combined to give an eggplant-like
taste to the dish, which was intriguing. Upon finishing it though, I
was ready for more food.
It
was time for Amy to help. She asked if I wanted to “add on”
dishes before I could say it. After determining that there were two
categories on the menu I hadn’t ordered from we chose the Láminas
de Setas – thinly sliced King Oyster mushrooms,
garlic/oil, Marcona almonds and Roncal (a
cheese). This was easily the prettiest dish. Made golden by the
all-encompassing sauce, the delicate, paper-thin slices of mushroom
were placed like petals of a dahlia on the plate and were sprinkled
in green, white and red by parsley, almonds and tomatoes. It only had
a light woodsy flavor from the mushrooms, but blended with the garlic
and slightly salty oil and the whole experience was a totally new
delicacy for me.
Though
there were several interesting desserts on the menu (separate from
the main one) I chose the cheese plate, not only because I love
cheese, but because it made me feel more continental. Arranged nicely
on the plate were three wedge-shaped slices of cheese – two Spanish
and one French – and a larger wedge of a fine French bleu cheese,
accompanied by walnut halves and slices of quince jelly, and a
plate of baguette slices. The French cheeses were more assertive in
flavor and hence, more to my preference, but all were delicious. In
fact, it’s the only dish I ate before taking a picture of it –
greedy me.
Amy
knew I would have a double espresso without my telling her and I
chose the Patxaran – a sloe-flavored (plum) Basque liqueur from
Navarre – as my after-dinner drink. How much of this wonderful meal
was truly Basque, I would have to ask of a native of that country. It
was only my third venture into the cuisine and the last one was many
years ago. All I know is that I enjoyed every bite and sip. While I
was finishing up, Amy came over and asked, “So what’s with all
the lions?” (Referring to my rings, pendant and wallet cover.) “I’m
a Leo!” “So am I!” “What month?” “July.” “Gee, there
usually are more August Leos than July ones. What day?” “The
26th, me and Mick Jagger.” You could have knocked me over with a
feather. Amy and I were born on the same day of the same month.
Restaurant
2,690 was complete with surprises, both gustatory and social. Chefs
and co-owners Eder Montero and Alexandra Raij have been doing
something remarkable over their seven years and I believe I will be
back.
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