My Blueberry Nights

Early in My Blueberry Nights, Elizabeth asks cafe owner Jeremy if her boyfriend has been there with any other women. Jeremy only remembers faces and meals, and Elizabeth discovers that yes, indeed, her porkchop and meatloaf-eating boyfriend has been eating with another. Elizabeth angrily leaves her apartment keys with Jeremy with the intent of never seeing her boyfriend again. Later, heartbroken and lovesick, she returns to find the keys still in Jeremy's possession. Her boyfriend hasn't come calling. Jeremy tries to cheer her up by talking about his desserts. He explains that at the end of the night, the cheesecake, apple pie, and peach cobbler are always finished, but a whole blueberry pie always remains. "What's wrong with the blueberry pie?" Elizabeth asks with great despair. "There's nothing wrong with the blueberry pie, it's just people make other choices."

"I'll eat it," Elizabeth offers.

This is typically how things unfold in the world of Wong Kar Wai. His films are a triumph of atmosphere and tone over story. The plots meander and end up where they began, if they end anywhere at all. The characters ponder romantic heartache out loud, posit quirky theories, and often undertake curious, fruitless journeys on an emotional whim. Elizabeth has a series of after hours meals with Jeremy, who has a jar full of keys and the stories to match. He's an equally wounded soul who now only observes from behind his counter, refusing to act on his clear affections for Elizabeth. One night, Elizabeth decides to "take the longest way to cross the street" and heads first to Memphis, then Las Vegas, where she encounters a variety of hopeless romantics.

In her acting debut, Norah Jones has a sweet naturalness about her, but she's reduced to the role of observer for most of the running time, waitressing in various locales made all the more bustling and colorful by Wong's distinctly skewed photography. (WKW's #1 rule of cinematography: Get your characters just inside the edge of the frame. Then stop.) In Memphis she befriends Arnie (David Strathairn), an alcoholic who can't let go of his resentful ex-wife, Sue Lynne (Rachel Weisz). In Nevada, she stakes poker player Leslie (Natalie Portman) with her meager savings in exchange for a car.

Wong has a clear fascination with late night dining and ill-fated relationships, and food always takes on intriguing symbolic relationships with his characters. My Blueberry Nights, his first English-language film, is a kindred spirit with his Chungking Express and Fallen Angels. All revolve around greasy spoons and the strangers that inhabit them, passing each other in the night until the moment that they don't, their disparate paths suddenly crossing over. Chungking Express was a wonderful piece of romantic whimsy, but My Blueberry Nights misses the mark, trying to build emotional currents on a flimsy structure of contrived character sketches.

The film is a bit of an acting showcase as there's no shortage of crying, yelling, and other outpourings of emotion. What's missing is the quiet moments inbetween, the moments in which these characters actually make the decisions that lead to the building up or, mostly, breaking down of their relationships. Elizabeth narrates the meandering adventure in postcards written to Jeremy, but her observations don't contain much insight to either the situations or her point of view of them. Oddly, the most endearing moment for me was a throwaway scene when Jeremy, wanting simply to talk to his friend, calls every single diner in Memphis asking to talk to any waitress named Elizabeth.

There are a lot of nice moments in the story. I liked Sue Lynne coming to terms with Arnie by paying his insanely big bar tab, Elizabeth's mobile goodbye with Leslie when they separate at a fork in the highway, and Jeremy's musings on his jar of outcast keys. Unfortunately, the vignettes don't so much end as run out of steam, and Elizabeth's cross-country waitressing journey leads to a simplistic conclusion. My Blueberry Nights isn't more than the sum of its parts, forcing whimsy when there should be honesty. I wonder what would have been if Elizabeth had decided to take the short way across the street, instead.

Quick DVD note #1: You probably know to buy all region DVDs when purchasing on eBay (region code zero). Also remember to buy DVDs in NTSC format, as the PAL videos from Asia and elsewhere don't work in standard North American players.

Quick DVD note #2: An old XBox can play PAL! And if you have an HDMI cable for it, it can work as a poor man's upcoverting player, too. And to think, I was going to banish the thing to the garage. I heart you, old XBox.

Tony Leung Trio

I was going to recommend the films of Wong Kar-Wai when I had a revelation. I've seen roughly 8 Chinese-language films in my lifetime, and actor Tony Leung (a.k.a. Leung Chiu Wai, if you're of the Asian persuasion) has been in, oh, 7 of them. Whether he's the Kevin Bacon of China or simply an actor whose movies happen to get US distribution, I do not know. What I do know is his presence anchors every film I've seen him in.

The first film I saw Tony Leung in is John Woo's Hard Boiled. Leung plays a cop undercover in a gun dealer's gang who crosses paths with Chow Yun-Fat's hardened (as in a boiled egg) detective on the trail of the very same gun dealer. While that description may sound like an intriguing setup for a gritty drama, keep in mind that this is a John Woo film, which means lots of people shoot lots of guns at lots of other people as they jump and swing and do lots of insane shit, sometimes in slow motion. The opening teahouse shootout sets the kick-ass tone for the rest of the film. Woo has many nameless henchmen kill many nameless civilians, which doesn't really bother Chow Yun-Fat's character so much as when his partner is killed. Angry Chow chases his partner's killer into a backroom, gets covered in flour while dodging bullets, and then blows off the guy's head, thus splattering his flour-white face with blood. Yes, that is the first five minutes. Leung lends some gravity to the proceedings as the morally compromised undercover cop, but it's Woo's bullet-ridden choreography that will forever forgive him his future trespasses, which are called Windtalkers and Paycheck.

In Infernal Affairs, Leung plays another cop undercover as a gangster who is hunted by another cop, who happens to be an undercover gangster. This is the gritty drama take on that premise, and the film is both a clever thriller and an intriguing character study. There is an extended sequence early in the film when the police are waiting for a drug deal to go down and the film details how Leung and his counterpart (played by Andy Lau) are indirectly sabotaging the other's operation. It's a clever, taut, even provocative film that manages to stay focused on the two leads as they slowly but surely lose their grip on their identities. Lau is solid, but Leung stands out as a man who hates himself for what he is only pretending to be, and slowly drowns in desperation because the number of people who know the truth are dwindling. If this all sounds strangely familiar to you, this was the basis for The Departed, so if you want to lord your superior film knowledge above the heads of your Netflix friends, do give it a spin and pretend like it was a secret that the Hollywood Remake Machine let out.

In Wong Kar-Wai's Chungking Express, Leung gets to stretch his legs and play... a cop. Which is why I will instead be talking about Wong Kar-Wai's In the Mood for Love. In it, Leung plays a writer (ha!) who rents a room next door to a lady played by Maggie Cheung. Both are married, and both come to the realization that their spouses are cheating on them with each other. What unfolds is an endearing friendship that threatens to turn into something more, but both vow never to sink to the level of their unfaithful spouses. This is the type of art house fair that I usually dread, but Wong is a romantic through and through. He infuses his films with real heart and, in this case, real melancholy. Loneliness and unrequited love are staples of his work, and what's heartbreaking about Mood is the fact that both emotions are self-inflicted. Both characters repress their true feelings so as not to shame their already broken marriages. Visually, the film is a splendor. Wong is a master at creating atmosphere, and here he recreates a crowded 1960s Hong Kong with rich colors and a penchant for the Nat King Cole song "Quizas, Quizas, Quizas." At first, it is a little odd to hear Cole crooning in Spanish for this Chinese film, but the images are mesmerizing and the repitition of it is sadly evocative... perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Leung won Best Actor at the 2001 Cannes Film Festival for his work here.

So there you go. If you're in the mood for a fun Friday night doubleheader, go with Infernal Affairs followed by Hard Boiled (and stay far, far away from the Infernal Affairs sequels). If you want heartbreak and romance, give In the Mood for Love and Chungking Express (which is delightfully romantic) a spin. If you want a dash of science-fiction mixed in with your unrequited love, pick up a copy of Wong Kar-Wai's 2046, a quasi-sequel to Mood that also stars Zhang Ziyi and follows Leung's character as he becomes a cold womanizer who writes a pulp sci-fi novel that mirrors his hedonistic exploits. Like what you've read about Leung but want some kung fu? There's Hero with Jet Li, a visually stunning and dreadfully boring film, but hey, whatever your cup of tea. Action? Love? Subtitles? Tony Leung is your man.

When Vegas Bites, Bite Back

There's only one thing you can do when Vegas chews you up and spits you out. No, not find an ATM. Get your money's worth out of the town and eat it all back.

So it was when I reached my pre-determined loss limit halfway through my recent trip to Sin City. I was actually doing fine until a late Saturday night visit to the craps tables. For me, it's the most exhilarating way to lose your money: quickly, but with the promise of getting it back with one hot roll. Alas.

Sushi Roku @ Caesar's Palace

Okay, it's a chain, no big discovery here. But they make damn fine sushi (and stiff cocktails, to boot). Camille and I initially ordered oysters for an appetizer, but thanks to a plague of red tide in the Pacific, we ended up with Tofu Three Ways, which featured bites of soft tofu with: scallions and sesame oil, white truffle and truffle oil, caviar and lemon oil. My favorite was the caviar/lemon oil, the combination of the salty roe and the citrus over the smooth, soft tofu was the proverbial party in my mouth. I was most looking forward to the truffle when we ordered, as that was the first truffle experience for me, but it was far too subtle against the blank canvas of the tofu. Kinda like looking at an off-white painting on white canvas: underwhelming.

For sushi, we went with: ikura (the orange/red salmon roe), yellowtail-scallion roll, eel-avocado roll, spicy scallop roll, soft shell crab roll, albacore-garlic roll, and sweet shrimp sushi (which is raw) with accompanying fried shrimp head. I don't know what exactly it is about unagi, the freshwater eel, that I love. It's got a meaty-fishy taste and is almost pasty in texture. When combined with the equally mushy avocado and against Sushi Roku's very good sushi rice, it's fantastic. It all melts together so nicely. When I'm old and toothless, please stuff this into my mouth roll by roll so I can gnaw it till I'm in the grave. My other favorite is the yellowtail-scallion. Yellowtail is one of the least "fishy" fishes, and when it's mild creaminess is countered by the green onion, it's another little bit of awesomeness. Everything else was a fantastic pair of contrasting flavors save for the soft shell crab roll, which was fried too long and a tad burnt. I'm consistently a sucker for soft shell crab and have had it in a variety of cuisines, but I can't think of a time when soft shell was as satisfying as I imagined it to be. Nor can I think of a time when I won at the craps table. But off I always go, loading the back end of the pass line and covering the six and the eight like every other sucker. The lesson here: be wary of soft shell crab. And craps is lots of fun. Try it!

The Aloha Specialties Restaurant @ The California

This trip, we kicked it way old school and stayed downtown at "The Cal." It's just off of Fremont Street and populated predominantly by aging Hawaiian tourists, many of which lug their own oxygen through the smoky innards of the casino floor. And where there's oxygen-deprived Hawaiian pensioners, there's Hawaiian food! After promising runs at Pai Gow and blackjack didn't pan out, it was Loco Moco time.
Hawaiian cuisine is a mish-mash of the various immigrant cultures that worked the lands over the years, though I have no clue where the Loco Moco came from. Rice topped with a hamburger steak (aka a hamburger) topped with a fried egg topped with gravy. So, uh, yeah... there's the cultural history of the Sandwich Isles on a plate!

The hamburger was cooked to be juicy inside and slightly crispy outside, which gave it a wonderful bite when combined with runny fried eggs and the beef gravy. This dish triggers nostalgia points for me because it reminds me of the simple breakfast my mom used to make of rice and a fried egg all mashed together into a big, yolk-y mess. So, my youth + cultural history of the Sandwich Isles on a plate = supreme satisfaction. It's one savory plate, but the egg whites and rice balance it enough to stave off immediate onset of food coma. I can't quite figure out what spices they use in Hawaii for the beef and the gravy, which seems to be the real key to the dish. I came close to unlocking that puzzle, but then I fell asleep in my room watching SportsCenter on a loop. Mmmmm, food coma.

Chang's. 4760 South Decatur Blvd.

If you're sick of buffets at the hotels... well, then, you're no friend of mine. But if you want a reprieve from the incessant jingling of slot machines and don't want bottomless plates of king crab legs two days in a row, head west on Tropicana. Go past the erotic supply store, turn right at the trailer park, and stop at Chang's for some brunch, dim sum style. The place is always bustling, and the staff will keep pushing plates of goodness at you. You really have to turn your table into a well-oiled eating machine, clearing off plates in a timely fashion to allow for the arrival of more steamed and fried bites.

The specialty here is the XO noodles, chow fun noodles fried in a type of chili oil-based sauce and accented with pepper flakes, scallions, and sesame seeds. It's slightly crispy, but the noodles are still soft. The spice hits you but relents, letting you shovel as much as you can without fear of tearing up like a little girl. All the dim sum staples are here and in fine form. Mine and Camille's favorite is the taro dumplings, which are chopped pork stuffed inside dumplings of mashed taro, which is then breaded. Even though the taro is still a starch, it's a terrific change of paste from the noodles and buns.

I finally worked up the courage to take on chicken feet, which is cooked in a black bean sauce that turns the skin red. If you can get over the fact that it's chicken feet, it's actually quite good. It's basically the best part of the chicken, the skin, except instead of meat underneath, it's all knuckle and toe bones. It's delicious but awfully tedious to eat, as you basically have to bite a toe off, gnaw the skin loose, and spit the bones out. Strategically speaking, it's an excellent "breather" food that lets you take a break from stuffing yourself while you're still eating. At Chang's, you can stuff yourself for about $15 a person, so you'll be ready for either another food coma or a run at Let It Ride.

Mermaids @ Fremont Street

This is the saddest of sad casinos, all slot machines and posters beckoning you with novelty drinks. Yet, I went in because some of those posters tantalize you with the elite of fairground food: deep-fried Twinkies and deep-fried Oreos. I slinked past the two feathered showgirls out front offering the complimentary slot machine spin and beelined for the food counter at the back.
The truly ridiculous thing about the deep-fried Oreo basket -- if you can accept that three Oreos covered in sweet batter and deep fried for 99 cents is normal -- is that it's topped by powdered sugar and chocolate sprinkles. The frying does change the texture of the Oreo, partially melting the cream and softening the chocolate cookie, so that the whole thing feels like a doughnut hole stuffed with Oreo preserves. It's not as sickeningly sweet as you might think, and pairs fantastically with a cold root beer (also 99 cents). It's like a chocolate sweet cream sandwich bite, and while it was born at a state fair, it's right at home amidst the neon and LCDs of Fremont Street. It's also the perfect exclamation point to a weekend of reckless gambling. Vegas may have my money, but I got paid back in the form of free cocktails, Hawaiian history, and deep-fried sugar sandwiches.