This has been a woefully non-special season of films. While some have been interesting enough, and a few of the performances have been excellent, (as they should all be in show business, especially when one is earning the big bucks,) few have stood out as particularly awards-worthy for me. And the ones that have, such as from Fantasia Barrino and Leo DiCaprio, have not been rewarded enough.

The there have been some years that it was a shame that someone had to lose-out because more than one performance was brilliant, (such as Morgan Freeman in Driving Miss Daisy losing to Daniel Day-Lewis in My Left Foot, or John Hurt not winning for his ingenious turn in The Elephant Man because DeNiro did Raging Bull in the same year.) But for the SAG Awards this year, I had to vote for just the least unspecial performances, which is a shame. Few of these actors would have even been nominated in other years!

In case you missed my duo of earlier 2024 Mini Movie Reviews, here are the links to them so you can catch up: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-reviewsmini-reviews-mini-movie-reviews-2024-part-i and itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-reviewsmini-reviews-mini-movie-reviews-2024-part-ii.

And here are the links to my full reviews of Killers of the Flower Moon (itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-review-killers-of-the-flower-moon) and Barbie (itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-review-barbie-movie-do-not-take-the-kids-and-stay-away-yourself.)

Now here’s my third, and final, crop of 2024 Mini Movie Reviews, so you have them before this Saturday’s SAG Awards. Some of the films are up for Oscars, some for SAGs, and some were nominated for January’s Golden Globes. That means that they all deserve the ItsNotAboutMe.TV treatment.

Here they are:

The Color Purple—All the other films I’ve seen recently I was just watching; this one I was involved with. I cried my guts out for a solid ten minutes near the end of the movie, while not shedding a tear, nor even having many smiles, with the rest of the crop.

The Color Purple.

I put off seeing The Color Purple until last because I’ve seen the more-often-than-not horrific story before, both on stage and in the old non-musical film, and was dreading witnessing it again. But because I’m always into fairness, I had to see it before I voted for the SAGs this week.

I’m also a fan of Fantasia Barrino, and that she wasn’t nominated for an Oscar or a SAG is a travesty! Especially when she deserved it soooo much more than some of the actual nominees. And so did Colman Domingo for Best Supporting Actor. I adore Ryan Gosling, but for him to be nominated for playing Ken over Colman’s gut-wrenching performance in this one is making me sick. Truly. (I’ll discuss all of this in-depth right before the Oscars in a few weeks.)

Fantasia Barrino and Taraji P. Henson.

As to this entire film, it turned-out to be my favorite. There’s so much talent involved—who knew that Taraji P. Henson could sing like that??? And even though the happiness of dance really doesn’t go with the sad scenario, I always love to see excellent dancing.

Here’s something to know in advance: I had to go back when I saw certain names in the credits because I did not recognize three famous people in small roles—Ciara, Blackish‘s Deon Cole, and H.E.R.! You will not believe it!

Maestro—While Bradley Cooper definitely gives his all as Leonard Bernstein, especially in a late scene of him conducting an orchestra, (and I give him major credit for also writing, directing, and producing this film, while seeming to just spend his days walking his young daughter around Manhattan, per the gossip sites!,) I’m not sure that he’s entirely successful throughout. So I’m still deciding if I should vote for him or Colman Domingo in Rustin.

Bradley Cooper in the six-minute conducting scene!

The same goes for Carey Mulligan here—I have it down to her or Annette Bening for Nyad. (I love all these one-word titles—so much less to type!!!) At first, I had no idea what accent she was trying to do. And then when the character said she’s from Chile, (which is one of the truths in the film,) I was upset from that moment on because her accent was either from New England or just regular Ol’ England!!! But I looked-up videos of the real Felicia the next day, and there was her true voice, meaning Carey is all correct in this film.

I still can’t figure-out exactly what the focus of the film is. Is it that Bernstein was gay while married? We never saw how he fell in love with his wife, if, indeed, he even did! And they didn’t show us if she knew all along or not. But it’s not enough about his music career, so that can’t be the story, either. I actually had no idea what was going on for a lot of the over two hours.

And Bradley’s accent and voice go in and out, from caricature to more true, so that’s a bit annoying, as well.

Also, why are parts of the film in black-and-white while the rest is color? This is not The Wizard of Oz, (nor a Woody Allen film,) for goodness sake!

So just take it for what it is, and enjoy what you can.

Bradley Cooper and Carey Mulligan.

Oh, by the way, as a Jewish person, Cooper’s fake nose didn’t bother me even one little bit. He needed it to look like Bernstein! What is wrong with people to have an issue with it??? Actors have to lose or gain weight, and change their hair, nails, teeth, etc. for roles, so why is a proboscis enhancement considered to be such a big deal here?! I don’t get it.

What he should have done, though, is wear brown contact lenses—his blue eyes are so prominent in Maestro, and, although light, Bernstein’s eyes were brown.

Rustin—The star of this one, Colman Domingo, is actually the first actor I’ve seen for whom I can vote. He actually deserved a nod for his creepy turn in The Color Purple, as well.

And the film itself is really good. It’s a historic story that really needed to be told. [Note: As a matter of fact, I suggested to one of the Executive Producers, David Permut, several years ago, that he should do a film about this historical important man! I don’t know if he brought my idea to the Obamas, or if they brought it to him, (which would mean that Barak’s brilliant mind on this topic matched my lesser one,) so I’m a tad perplexed about that situation, but I’m still glad that it got made, either way.]

Colman Domingo in the center.

But what was Chris Rock, (of whom I’m a big fan,) doing in there??? He’s just way too recognizable and way too…Chris Rock! Every time he appeared on-screen, it took me out of the story. They definitely didn’t need him, and should have cast an unknown in that role.
And, although she is impressive in some of her work, her opera background, and having received her Masters from Yale, how did Da’Vine Joy Randolph get such big credit at the end, for just singing a couple of lines as Mahalia Jackson??? Crazy.

There were a few other head-scratchers in this one, as well, but these two were the biggest.

American Fiction—This is my second favorite movie of the season. It’s amusingly profound and very real. And Mr. X appreciated that there was no violence in it.

However, while the actors give excellent performances, I really didn’t see any that are awards-worthy. The entire cast is nominated for the SAGs as an ensemble. (Since it’s Screen Actors Guild awards, all the awards are for actors only—duh. Hence, no Best Picture, only best cast.) They are all good, so it’s a possibility. (But I have a feeling my idiotic fellow union members will hop on the inane Barbie band wagon and award this group award to them, while the fair among us will go with The Color Purple or Oppenheimer.) But for Sterling K. Brown to be nominated for Outstanding Male for this is just nonsense! He’s really good, as always, but not better than, say, Colman Domingo in The Color Purple.

Sterling K. Brown, Jeffrey Wright, and Erika Alexander.

But the overall message in American Fiction is a good one. I’m just not in love with aspects of the ending.

Past Lives—This is a charming film, in half English and half Korean. However, being an incredible romantic, it was painful to me. I can’t tell you why, to not ruin the story for you.

But it is an interesting tale of love that takes place over twenty-four years and in four countries. And pay attention to the opening few minutes. They turn-out to be brilliant.

Teo Yoo, Greta Lee, and John Magaro.

Oh, I’ll just tell you a bit about them because that scene pertains to me in a tiny way. It features a couple of unseen strangers wondering who the three people they’re seeing in a bar are to each other. It made me laugh for two reasons. Firstly, my mother often did the same thing. And secondly, and more personally amusing, is that when I was doing my show, and I’d go to dinner afterwards with several assorted pals and audience members, we’d occasionally get stares because we were such a disparate group. Rarely did anyone ask how we knew each other, because that is really rude, but when a brave someone did inquire about the connections, I’d chuckle to myself as I’d politely explain. I still smile when I think of those instances.

Air—Though not nominated for the SAGs or Oscars, I wanted to see Air because it had some nods for the recent Golden Globes, which, knowing the subject matter, I could not imagine. After the first ten minutes, Mr. X said he was done with it, but I insisted we plug on, in case it got better, which it did. At the end, he actually declared, “This is a good film.” I agree.

In case you don’t know, it’s the story of how Nike got NBA rookie Michael Jordan to agree to do his shoe with them. A tale like that is not intrinsically interesting, however this one sort-of is. But a small part of the scenario depressed me a bit, on a personal level, because back when I was doing my TV show, Converse had asked if they could send me sneakers.  (I had a deal with Reebok back then, but I was really allowed to wear anything I wanted. ) But because I’m the laziest person on Earth, I never followed-up with them.  Being so lazy has made me miss out on a lot of things like that, which this movie sadly reminded me of.

Matthew Maher, Matt Damon, and Jason Bateman.

On a happier personal note, I have to laud Julius Tennon, who plays Michael’s dad, James. I’ve met Julius a few times, (because his wife, Viola Davis, and I were both Theatre majors at the same college, and share our “daughter-hood” status bestowed on us by our beloved Acting professor, Dr. Bill Hutchinson,) but had never seen him act before. I didn’t even know he’s an actor! And I must say he’s perfect in that small role. He seems as sweet in the film as he is in person. So that was a highlight for me.

To remind you–the Screen Actors Guild Awards will be on this Saturday night, and then the Oscars will be two weeks after that, so this is my final group of Mini Movie Reviews before the end of the 2024 awards season. But, because I’m soooo upset about many of the nominations, I plan to share my final rant on the topic right before the March 10th Oscars.

Lastly, I’ll try my best to live-tweet the SAGs on Saturday, so if you don’t already follow me on Twitter/X, this would be a good time. I’m at @MajorCelebrity on that platform. And remember—the SAGs are not on a cable channel this year; the show is now on Netflix, which I often inexplicably resent.

In case you missed Part I of my Mini Movie Reviews 2024 early last week, here’s the link to catch you up: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-reviewsmini-reviews-mini-movie-reviews-2024-part-i.

And here are the links to my full reviews of Killers of the Flower Moon (itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-review-killers-of-the-flower-moon) and Barbie (itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-review-barbie-movie-do-not-take-the-kids-and-stay-away-yourself.)

Now here we go with my second crop of mini reviews. Of the quartet, only Ferrari has no Oscars nods, although Penelope Cruz should have definitely received one. And possibly even won it! But I’m proud to say that my fellow SAG members did nominate her for one of our own awards, so at least there’s that.

To remind you: I try to not know what a film is about before I see it; I want to experience it for myself, with no preconceived notions.

Let’s get to them now, in no particular order:

Oppenheimer–Raise your hand if you’re not a science nerd and really did enjoy this very popular movie. Or is that just me?

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer.

I’m sure that some Mensa folk loved it, but I had no idea what was going on for most of the film, even with my 147 IQ!!! I had to fight sleep the whole time. I’m grateful that I saw it at home, as opposed to in a theatre because I could not stop asking Mr. X questions about what was going on. And even he rarely knew, either!

They really needed to show us the dates of each scene, so we knew which era is which. It was all crazily confusing.

The cast is basically a sausage-fest, (because it was mainly males involved with the tru story,) so even though the woman played by Florence Pugh was Oppenheimer’s real-life girlfriend at one point, the director had to throw in the sex scenes of them just to make the otherwise colorless film more appealing to the masses. There was no other reason for them.

And at one point, Oppenheimer told a committee that he had a first wife who they never showed, so what was up with that? After researching him later, I couldn’t find an earlier wife than the one played by Emily Blunt, so why did they even put that confusing sentence in the already over three hours film!?

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer.

Star of the film, Cillian Murphy, is, of course, excellent, but that he was nominated for an Oscar and a SAG over Leonardo DiCaprio, who is the best of the best this season, is making me sick.

As to Oppenheimer overall, I didn’t know anything about this man going in, and this movie didn’t enlighten me much.

Nyad—Annette Bening deserves an Oscar just for letting herself look so awful in this film!!! Warren Beatty must really be regretting that I never called him back when he called me all those decades ago to say he loved my show, and ask me out! (Before they were married, of course.)

Jodie Foster and Annette Bening.

But, seriously though, from the films I’ve seen so far, she really does deserve the Oscar. And every other award, as well.  (But, of course, it will very undeservedly go to Lily Gladstone because she’s Native American and they need to show diversity. If not her, then it will go to media darling, (though I cannot figure out why that is,) Emma Stone, for her basically *porno role! *[Note: Refer to the link at the top of the page if you missed my recent review of her film, Poor Things.]

Of course, for this one, I did know a bit of the subject beforehand because long-distance swimmer Diana Nyad seems to have always been famous in the sports world. But I had no idea that the subject of the film is her many attempts to swim from Havana to Florida…when she was in her sixties!!! Oysh. Despite knowing her name and sport, the only time I ever saw her was during her one-week stint on Dancing With The Stars a decade ago.

Jodie Foster and Annette Bening.

It is a bit of a rugged topic, but Annette Bening and Jodie Foster are both wonderful in it, which is reason enough to see it. As a matter of fact, Jodie deserves the Oscars win, as well, but I have one Supporting Actress nominee (Danielle Brooks) yet to see. Compare Jodie’s acting job to that of America Ferrera’s in Barbie, a nomination that is an insult to all actresses everywhere. (And bite my tongue, with the stupid fuss people are making about Margot Robbie and Greta Gerwig not getting nods, America just may win! I have to go throw-up now just writing that sentence!)

And, at just two hours, Nyad is the second shortest film up for consideration this year! That alone should win them something!

The Holdovers—While an interesting enough film, with good performances, neither Paul Giamatti nor Da’Vine Joy Randolph deserve any nominations, let alone for Oscars! And how they won Golden Globes is also head-scratching.

(L-R) Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Paul Giamatti, and Dominic Sessa.

Leonardo DiCaprio is worlds better than Giamatti in the Best Leading Actor category, and the performances of Penelope Cruz and Jodie Foster this year in the Supporting category are both superior to that of Randolph. Penelope isn’t even nominated for the Oscar! How can that many nominators be so blind? (Or, more likely, jealous. They feel better about themselves when less attractive people are in the running. I mean it.)

The real stand-out among the cast of The Holdovers is Dominic Sessa, who plays the sad teen-age boy who has to stay behind on Christmas break with his elderly teacher and lunch lady. While watching his wonderful performance, I could not figure-out how I’ve never seen him before. But it turns-out—this film is his very first anything! He was just a student at one of the New England boarding schools that was used as a location! He never did anything before, (nor since, actually,) not even a commercial or music video! The Holdovers is it. Wow—that’s mind-blowing. And now he’s just a college student. I hope he has a big career coming-up. (Dominic ought to get every role that Ezra Miller should get fired from!!!)

Dominic Tessa and Paul Giamatti.

Speaking of the heartbreaking trio, how the Golden Globes put this movie in the Comedy category is another mystery. As I’ve explained in my Mini Movie Reviews—Part I this year, the Golden Globes organization classifies films as either “Dramas” or “Musicals or Comedies” so they can give out double the number of awards, and thus get more famous nominees on their broadcast. What a shonda.

Ferrari—If this film is supposed to show us the life of Italian racing car legend, Enzo Ferrari, it fails miserably. It looks like the action takes place over just a few months, and in portraying only that time span, the powers-that-be made it all slow and confusing.

The beginning is especially murky. When even Mr. X has no inkling as to what is happening, there’s not much hope for the rest of us.

The entire film is lacking focus, and since we have no idea who some of the characters even are, no excitement is built.  It doesn’t help that all of the men look alike.

Patrick Dempsey.

I also am not a fan of some of the casting, which, in some instances, is even odd. That includes Patrick Dempsey in the very small role of an old Italian driver who wins the big race. Why could they not have cast Italians, (or, at the very least, Europeans,) in most, if not all, the roles? The same goes for Shailene Woodley as the mistress. All I could think of whenever she was on the screen was that insane (possibly fake) engagement to Aaron Rodgers a few years ago.

The producers’ first choice to play Ferrari was Christian Bale, (who would have been perfect,) and then it changed to Hugh Jackman, (who, despite my adoration of him, I cannot imagine in this role,) but, when they dropped-out, it should have gone to another foreigner, not Adam Driver.

How they chose Driver I cannot imagine; his performance is on one note all the way through. Perhaps that’s what the real Enzo Ferrari was like, but come on, man, give us a break! Nobody knows if any of this dialogue, or the scenes themselves, are real, so pep-up your performance a taste!!!

Penelope Cruz, in her most brilliant moment.

On the other hand, in one of the early scenes, Penelope Cruz, without uttering a word, is so powerful that, just as I was thinking the same thing, Mr. X declared, “Winner!”

Right now, I can’t decide between Penelope and Jodie to vote for this month’s upcoming SAG Awards, but this performance points-out just what a travesty it is for America Ferrara to have been nominated for an Oscar, especially while Penelope is left-out! That inanity seems to have been perpetuated by the Academy heads wanting to throw Barbie a bone or two, while knowing that while nothing from that movie, (outside of perhaps set design,) deserves nods of any kind, they would look like heroes to feminists and Latinx if they gave one to America. Mr. X and I, (and fans of fairness the world over,) are disgusted by this whole debacle.

My research on Enzo Ferrari after we saw the film showed me that many of the characters and incidents in Ferrari are fictitious, which, of course, there’s also a tiny disclaimer to that effect at the very end of the credits. I hate that!

All drivers in this pic–Adam Driver in the middle, with all his Ferrari drivers.

By the way, I feel a tad bad saying any of the above because, after working with Michael Mann, the director of this one, on an earlier film, Mr. X received Christmas cards from him for years! So I’m not in love with myself for maligning his work now, but you know that I’m always honest.

The SAGs will be here in just a mere two weeks, and then the Oscars arrive shortly after that, in early March, so I’ll get to my third (and perhaps final) group of Mini Movie Reviews before then, no matter how lacking some of the films may be. As always, you’re welcome for watching them for you, so you don’t have to waste your time, (and money!,) on them.

Earlier this month, when the Golden Globes came around, I had not seen one film outside of the awful Barbie. (If you missed my thoughts on it when it came out in August, just click here: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/movie-review-barbie-movie-do-not-take-the-kids-and-stay-away-yourself.)

But since I have to vote for the Screen Actors Guild Awards in a few weeks, and I do not think it’s fair to vote unless you’ve seen all the nominated performances, I had to get cracking on my movie viewing recently.

So here’s my first batch of mini-reviews, even though some have no SAG or Oscars nods. (But they did have ones for the Golden Globes, Critics Choice, or from some other film award entity.)

As always, I try not to know what a movie is about before I see it; I want to experience it for myself, with no preconceived notions. So I was surprised by most of them. And never in a good way.

And let me say, and perhaps even caution, that I have seen more genitalia in them than I have seen in total in my entire life up to this point! So, if that’s your kind of thing, this crop of films just may be for you.

To show you what I’m talking about, I’m beginning my Mini Movie Reviews with what I call the “Genitalia Group.” So let’s get started on them, in no particular order:

Saltburn—What the F did I just watch??? Why does Hollywood celebrate this creepy screenwriter? (Emerald Fennell won an Oscar for writing last year’s horrible and decidedly unspecial Promising Young Woman.) Saltburn is basically a low-rent rip-off of both The Talented Mr. Ripley and Primal Fear.

Saltburn itself.

Besides everything else bad about it, why did it take place in 2006? That designation was totally unnecessary. All but the very end takes place over that one year, so why mention it at all? Not to mention that the star, Barry Keoghan, doesn’t look at all like a college kid—he looks like the thirty-one that he is! His character is a little older in the few end scenes, but it’s not worth it to have him as the teen for ninety percent of the film! It’s easier to make someone look older than younger. But they didn’t even bother to try to make him look college-age, anyway!

On the TV system Mr. X and I use at our house, you have to verbally ask for subtitles, which, trust me, you definitely need for this British film. (I had been lamenting that I missed all the screenings of it, so therefore we had to see it on our own big-screen television, which is not the same as in a theatre. But I’m so glad that I didn’t have to sit through this mess in public, and was able to use the closed captioning to help us understand what they were all saying!) At one point near the end of the film, when Barry Keoghan was literally having sex with the dirt on his friend’s grave, I said, “Subtitles off,” (because the words were over that visual, and I needed confirmation of what I was seeing,) to which Mr. X immediately added, “Picture off!” That’s the only mirth I had in those two and a quarter hours, (which felt like seven!!!)

The Saltburn weirdos, (except for gorgeous Jacob Elordi, of course!)

But at least that Jacob Elordi is gorgeous! So there’s that.

Poor Things–I finally found a natural alternative to Ozempic! It’s watching this film! I was nauseated the entire time and couldn’t even think of chowing-down during it! Since I saw it, every time I consider a snack, I just think of Poor Things, and immediately get queasy. No lie.

That animal following her tells you all you need to know to stay away from Poor Things.

It’s basically porn. (Great—now many of you are going to run right out and see it!) And besides that all of those goings-on are unattractive, so are all of the men Emma Stone’s character have all that sex with. They would need to pay me at least a hundred billion dollars to simulate the act with even one of them!!!  The looks of those characters in the Paris section of the movie were even worse than those on the men in The Name of the Rose.

And I know this is unpopular to say, but Emma looks pretty unattractive, as well. Her always-red nose tip, jet black uber-stringy way-too-long hair, and tiny rack are not what anyone wants to see on a big screen.

And one weird thing about her acting is that she doesn’t have her usual annoying little lisp when doing this British accent! Go figure.

As someone who studied Cinema as part of my college major, (and excelled in the class, I must say,) I could really break this whole thing down for you, like that it’s on purpose that the black guy character, (played really badly by comedian Jerrod Carmichael,) is the only one she didn’t have sex with. But I don’t have that kind of energy. I will say, though, that when I was analyzing the film in the middle of the night and in the subsequent days, it did get more interesting.

Willem Defoe and Emma Stone in Poor Things. His face is only part of the Frankenstien component!!!

The Golden Globes organization classifies films as either “Dramas” or “Musicals or Comedies” so they can give out double the number of awards, and thus get more famous nominees on their broadcast. So they put Poor Things in the Comedy category, when it’s far from that. It’s more of a low-level horror movie. That’s not an exaggeration; it even has a major Frankenstein component to it! So please do not be fooled by the Golden Globes purposefully-erroneous categorization.

Mr. X said that it is “high-quality filmmaking,” with which I agree. But then he added, “But the content is hard to swallow,” which is a much nicer way than what I’m saying, which is that Poor Things sucks the big one. (Which, by the way, we never saw in the film—a big one. Oh no—these films are rubbing off on me! Ewww.)

The two positives are that Marc Ruffalo is really good, and the Scenic Design is unbelievably stunning.

The set design is gorgeous, though.

But the end credits are absolutely offensive, to the audience, but mainly to the people who did all that work, no matter how big a screen you’re seeing it on. And God forbid you’re seeing this movie on your phone; you’ll be rushing to the optometrist the next day.

To sum-up Poor Things in one sentence, I wish a Memory-Erase pill had already been invented!!!

May/December—This is another bummer. I don’t understand the fuss about it, before the SAGs and Oscars just about shunned it. (It did get one Oscar nom, for writing, though I don’t understand that, either.)

But it’s so slow, it will be a great one to help you fall asleep.

I honestly do not understand why this movie was made. Nor how it even got the greenlight! It’s a total rip-off of someone’s life, with no credit nor even consultation! Julianne Moore should be ashamed of herself for being involved in it.

Julianne Moore and Charles Melton in May/December.

The second I saw Julianne Moore’s character kiss the young exotic *ethnic guy, (played by Charles Melton of Riverdale,) near the beginning, I said, “Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Fualaau!” I love being right. *[Note: The actor is Korean while the real-life guy is Samoan. Therefore, many people are upset about that erroneous representation, even though this is not supposed to be Mary Kay and Vili’s true story.]

But I sure hope that Villi can sue this film company. He’s acknowledged that they did not even reach-out to him about it, and called the film a “rip-off of my original story,” adding, “I’m offended by the entire project and the lack of respect given to me, who lived through a real story and is still living it.” I agree with—I was upset the whole time I was watching this super-slow film. If they wanted to make that infamous couple’s story, just tell the real one! Or at least ask his permission. And perhaps involve him in the process. Or disguise the tale much more than just changing what the grown-up woman’s job is. The filmmakers are actually victimizing Vili’s children. (Very sadly, Mary Kay died from cancer four years ago.)

Besides all of that annoying-ness, May/December is a snoozefest and a half! Instead of concentrating on the tale of that fam, the powers-that-be made it about an actress shadowing them to play the woman in a movie! So boring. And creepy. I kept waiting for a murder to happen.

I really want my time back on this one.

These films, (plus Barbie, of course,) are all that I’ve seen so far this season. At over two hours each, (some over three hours!,) there’s just not enough time in life to get to them all right away. (Especially when there were so many special sporting events—NFL conference finals, Aussie Open finals, and all of the National Ice Skating competitions!–on this week-end!)

But the SAGs aren’t until the end of February, and then the Oscars come in early March, so I’ll get to my second group of Mini Movie Reviews next week, no matter how awful some of them may be. You’re welcome for watching them for you.

When Mr. X and I found ourselves in Santa Monica recently, with a couple of hours to kill, I suggested that we go over to Brentwood Country Mart.  I absolutely love those rotisserie chicken wings that you can get only there, and figured we could find something for him to eat, too.  With us both being ice cream freaks, when we saw the Sweet Rose Creamery there, we knew we had to try it.

It was the biggest disappointment in that category I think I’ve ever had.  How can you screw-up ice cream that badly?!

But let’s go in order.  Nothing egregious happened, but when the ice cream itself was so bad, it made me re-think the whole experience.

First of all, they allow you to taste only two flavors, which is rarely enough when you’re at a new place with several flavors, especially ones you’ve never heard of before. Like the awful Créme De Noyeaux. My theory is they limit the samples not because of thriftiness, but rather because they don’t want to give you more opportunities to confirm for yourself how bad it is!  With only two little bites, you may think those flavors are a fluke.  Actually, when the two I tried were all grainy, and even sort-of old tasting, like when ice cream is in the freezer too long, and I politely mentioned it to the guy behind the counter, he told me the Rocky Road was much better, and was just freshly made on-premises.

Well, he was wrong about that one!  It was as bad as the pair I had tried and rejected.  I swear, supermarkets’ own inexpensive brands taste better than this did!  Mr. X said it was so bad that it put him off Salted Caramel permanently!

And, not that I would ever want more of this disappointing substance, but the scoops are beyond ungenerous!  We almost had to look down into our cups to find the ice cream!  These were literally the tiniest scoops we had ever seen.

On top of all that, they don’t have regular cones, only very small waffle ones that they charge a lot extra for.  (I just realized that of course they’re small–otherwise you wouldn’t see those tiny scoops in them at all!)

The whole place is a creepy rip-off; bad ice cream, small portions, only two samples, and extra charges for everything.  I understand that Sweet Rose Creamery has several branches around town, for all the followers who don’t want to be the odd one out who tells the truth about it. The only ones it’s “sweet” for is the company owners, who are raking in the bucks for an inferior product.

The food at an actual Public School is better than at this Los Angeles restaurant chain! My friend and I had a very disappointing lunch there recently, and it was enough to make us plan on not ever returning. No one did anything very wrong; it’s just chow that isn’t worth the money. Nor calories!  And the whole experience was far from special.

Every time I was in that area of the Valley recently, (which is on the cusp of Sherman Oaks and Encino,) I checked to see if Public School 818 had opened yet. I was really anxious to try it already, mainly because of the cute name. (There are other branches in different areas of LA, and they each have the area code after the “PS” part.) I figured, with a moniker like that, it will have to at least be rocking an adorable interior. You would think, wouldn’t you?

The menu, which is where the school theme begins and ends.

But outside of the menu covers looking like old-fashioned notebooks, there was nothing else appropriate to the concept.

My friend Nikki and I, who have much different tastes from each other, shared three lackluster dishes. (Two were okay; they were basically just meh.) They all sounded good, so we had high hopes.

But those were dashed pretty quickly.

Nikki asked our server to please divide the salad for us. Instead, he brought the one big salad, and not even other bowls to scoop it into! Nor utensils for the job, even if we had had those extra dishes.  We had to ask three different people for the other bowls. The guy finally brought flat plates. So, once again we asked for the individual bowls. A girl walking by finally told us they don’t have small ones. Oysh. So, we said just bring us two large, which the guy should have thought of to begin with!!! But, alas, they brought us just one. And, by the way, there was enough dressing (which we had on the side,) for just a few bites. No matter, the dressing wasn’t even good anyway.

This is what our fries should have looked like to begin with.

By the way–it was the Tuscan Chop Salad.  Nikki did enjoy it, except for the dressing.  But, even though it had a bit of burrata cheese, my favorite substance on earth, I found it to be tasteless.  And, worse than anything, there were tons of olives in it, even though they weren’t listed!!!  I detest olives, so they were far from a welcome surprise. And, even if I was was not an olive-eschewer, they didn’t go with the rest of the ingredients. I brought the leftovers to Mr. X who basically hated it.

Nikki and I also shared the Crispy Chicken Sandwich, which was actually pretty tasty.  But, it comes with two sauces on it, and we asked for one of them on the side.  Guess if it ever showed up.  If you guessed, “Of course not,” you are correct!  Worse than that, they left them both off!  The worst part of this dish was the fries. The sandwich comes with fries, if you so choose, so we asked for them to be crispy.  But what we got were fries that were old and soggy.  I’ve rarely had worse ones.  I had to ask for them to be re-done, so this time, what they brought us were basically potato sticks.  They were definitely an upgrade, though, but they should have been done right to begin with!  When Nikki and I leave French fries over, you know the meal not a good one.

The tasteless chocolate cake. Notice all the sauce!

We decided we needed a dessert to cheer us up.  You can’t go wrong with dessert, can you?  Wrong.  You can at Public School 818.  They have no written menu for that course, so we had to rely on the descriptions of our half-awake server.  The one that appealed to us was the chocolate cake, that he said had a gooey interior.  Nikki specifically asked if it had sauce on it, because she’s not a fan.  He assured us that it did not, and re-iterated the wet insides.  But guess what we got?

Tasteless, weird-textured chocolate cake, with nothing in the center, but with tons of caramel sauce on top!  Ugh.  We both hated it.  A restaurant has to try really hard to come up with a chocolate cake that neither of us likes!!!

On top of all that, the parking situation is brutal there!  They have close enough, but not very convenient, valet parking in the rear, which is a bit of a walk.  They validate for up to only two hours, which, with that awful service, is not close to enough time!  That’s the only parking they told me about on the phone.  When I pressed the girl, she finally mentioned that they also have metered parking in the same place, and acted like I was a moron to not be familiar with the obscure street name she said it was on.  But it was far-ish away, in an altogether separate location, and very hard to find.  She also suggested that I park in the Galleria across the street, which isn’t nice to that venue. I’m sure the administrative office over there would be thrilled to know about that directive.

So, there you have it!  Public School 818–not good, not fun, not an easy situation.  The whole experience left an even worse taste in my mouth than the food did! And that was a feat not easily accomplished.

This is a mini restaurant review because I didn’t try many dishes at the new-ish Beverly Hills bistro, Bedford and Burns.  But it’s worth telling you about.  And not in a good way.

The tasteless Cheddar Biscuits. I put the fork in the pic, though, to show you just how big they are. Photo by Karen Salkin.

A pal and I stopped in for a recent Happy Hour.  An ad for the place had just popped up on my computer, and we were going to a play in that area anyway, so we decided to take a chance and try it.   And the bar menu got to me because of the Cheddar Biscuits.  It was like a flashing neon sign attracting me to them because I absolutely love every cheese biscuit I’ve ever had in my entire life!  Until now.

These were giant, which made my mouth water, but then I bit into one.  Tasteless.  Downright tasteless.  What a waste of calories they are!

The Margherita Flat Bread Pizza was not much better.  First of all, it was minuscule, as flatbread pizzas go, and not very tasty, either.  My pal, Carolyn, said it was overdone while I thought it was underdone.  No matter what; we could agree that it was not done right.

We had better success with the two other dishes we chose.  Carolyn liked the Chicken Spring Rolls, with Thai dipping sauce, which I thought were just so-so.  I was expecting the crunchy fried egg roll-type of spring rolls, but these were the spongey, opaque-material-wrapped ones.  They were okay, and looked pretty, but did nothing for me.  At least they were stuffed with a lot of chicken, which was a bonus.

Chicken Spring Rolls. Photo by Karen Salkin.

The winner was the duo of gigantic Chicken Meatballs.  I could have eaten just several of those, and called it a day.

They did do one thing that bothered me a bit, though.  They try to get you with the “water sympathy” trick.  When I asked for just a glass of water, the waiter said that, since it was Happy Hour, they had a deal on the big bottles of Fiji Water.  He told us that it was just $2., but didn’t leave the offer there.  In the same breath, he said something to the effect of, “And you’ll be helping with the water crisis in California.”  Granted, that is a good deal for the bottle, and we should all help with the drought situation, but they shouldn’t guilt trip us into buying it!!!

So, to sum up my experience at Bedford and Burns–“Eh.”  I would go back again to try their meatballs and spaghetti because I already love the meatballs.  But I feel the rest of the food should be better, not only due to the neighborhood and basic prices, but because of the pedigree; it’s owned and run by the children/grandchildren of the old Bob Burns restaurants founders. (Hence the moniker: It’s on Bedford and owned by Burns.)  I believe those eateries were big around here back in they day, (before my time in LA,) so the owner’s progeny should then serve better fare.

It’s an attractive enough eatery, with a more extensive Happy Hour menu than many others in the area. So, if you go for Happy Hour, too, just make sure to order not what we did, save for the ‘balls.

I have a long history of just missing meals and parties at the various Philippe Chow restaurants; I missed them in the Hamptons, New York City, and even the former Melrose location here LA, where it had been for the past few years.

So, when I was recently invited by someone to the year-old Beverly Hills site, I jumped at the chance to finally be in the know. And it didn’t hurt that it’s now owned by fellow original Brooklynites! Yay!

The Lychee Blossoms martini, (after Alice drank most of it!,) in front of the row of main tables. Photo by Karen Salkin.

The new owner is Manny Halley, (whose brother Raymond gives the best hugs! I met him elsewhere, and now we’re totally bonded.) Manny is a music business manager, and among his artists is Keyshia Cole. So, you know this place is going to have some fun parties now! Fingers crossed that I’m included!

On our recent first-ever visit, my friend Alice and I were greeted by the amiable staff of hostess Ana, manager Yolanda, and adorable young server, Iyana. I predict that girl is going to be carded well into her sixties!!!

We were guests at a dinner, where someone else had already set the menu, so, me being the limited-foods-eater that I am, there are only a few menu items I can tell you about. But, together, they make a very satisfying meal that anyone should be happy with.

We began with cocktails, as it looked like everyone in the hip crowd at this eatery was also doing. (The bar scene was jumping! As were the private party rooms, but more on them in a sec.) Alice chose the Lychee Blossoms martini. She said it was “very delish,” with a “hint of cranberry.”

Vegetarian Flat Noodles. Photo by Karen Salkin.

But here’s a shocker—I drank a bit of something! You may know that I absolutely hate the taste of alcohol, but I was into relaxing that night, so, when fellow alcohol-flavor-eschewer Yolanda suggested their chocolate wine, served over a ton of ice, I definitely trusted her. It turned-out to be a nice refreshing little drink that I could actually take a few sips of, and I was happy to be imbibing a tiny bit, for one of the very few times in my life.

Then we moved onto the food. Both Alice and I had the same favorite of what we tried that night. Shockingly, (for me, who’s a major carnivore,) it was the Vegetarian Flat Noodles! Alice said they were “very good,” and “not greasy.” I could have made a whole meal out of just that one dish!!! They were that delicious!

Salt-and-Pepper Prawns. Photo by Karen Salkin.

Alice, who’s an at-home chef herself, found their sauces very interesting. She loved the Philippe Chow signature cream sauce that came on the Beef Satay, commenting that it was “flavorful and hardy,” and noting the “hint of heat.” She was equally fond of the thick duck sauce that accompanied the minced Chicken Lettuce Wraps.

As a main dish, she enjoyed the “very tender and delicious” Drunken Sea Bass, that came with big wood ears mushrooms in Chinese rice wine sauce, while I went for the very flavorful Salt-and-Pepper Prawns, which we paired with the Pork Fried Rice. (Funny thing—wimp that I am, I thought the rice was very spicy, while Cuban Alice thought it was not! If you try it, please weigh-in; we have just got to know which one of us is correct!)

I was too full to try any Beijing Chicken with walnuts, but Alice took some home, and told me that it turned-out to be delish, even cold!

Desserts. Photo by Karen Salkin.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover a Chinese restaurant that actually serves basic desserts, like cheesecake and red velvet cake. I was full by then, but I brought a slice of each home to Mr. X, and he said they were both really good! So, if you have room, and need a sweet treat at the end, you should go for it.

On our way out, Ana asked if we had gotten to see the back area, and since we had not, she gave us a tour of the private rooms, that are complete with curtains and big-screen TVs. It’s also a whole great setting for parties! It would be perfect if they throw one for their one-year anniversary in November. Either way, I wish them a very happy anniversary, and many more!

8620 Wilshire Blvd. Beverly Hills 310-289-3500 www.philippechowbh.com

This simply named Westside eatery had often caught my attention, on paper. But driving by, it looked not special, so I never chose to go there.

But on a recent super-hot day, when the non-air-conditioned Apple Pan was too steamy to have lunch in, a friend and I chose to try the near-by Food.

This is the deal: You order at the counter and then sit in one of the most uncomfortable seats I’ve ever been in. The tables and chairs, or benches along the wall, were all way too hot, (and also very stiff-looking,) so the owner told us to sit at the counter, under the one vent that cooled that area. My back was miserable in those seats. This experience was so not worth the discomfort.

And the whole place looked kind-of dirty, too. It even had an “outside” floor. I felt like I was in a garage! Very unappetizing. But we were hungry, so oh well.

The menu had some interesting-looking salads and sandwiches, but when I saw that they had rotisserie chicken, that was it for me.

But, let me tell you, this chicken, that was three times the price of the delicious ones that we all love from Costco, was basically dry. I kept feeling like I was going to choke on it. And the skin was far from crispy. And it barely had any taste. I had to do something I never thought I would—I had to drag the chicken through the bottom grease just to get some flavor to it.

It came with chunks of roasted potatoes, but they, too, lacked flavor, and were pretty much swimming in grease, as well.

Judy ordered a simple chopped Cobb salad, and specifically asked them to leave-out the bacon pieces. I asked them to please just put them on the side because I love bacon.

So, the salad came, with the extra little monkey dish of the chopped bacon. Judy took one look at it, and saw what looked like bacon pieces in her salad, already covered in dressing. So, she asked me to try them, just in case. What role reversal that was! I’m always the one with Royal Tasters because I’m such a picky eater. But I was so confident that they were bacon that I tried a couple for her. And yes, they were indeed bacon, which she hates.

So, she nicely showed it to them. The girl took it back in the kitchen, and then brought out…the same salad!!! She said that the chef assured her that there was no bacon in it, even though I had tasted it! We explained it again, and then the owner came over, and assured us that the chef said there was no bacon in it.

How much would it have cost them to just make her another salad??? They were acting like there was gold in there! Seriously, this went on for several minutes. They said that maybe a few pieces of the chopped bacon had fallen onto the salad plate, but that there shouldn’t be any more in there. The ones I tried were covered in dressing, so, there’s no way they just fell onto the top of the plate. And even if they did, the customer requested no bacon!!! Period. That should have been the end of the discussion.

Either way, what if the customer was allergic to bacon? Or was kosher? Or had some other dietary reason to ask for it to not be in their salad? How does an owner stand there foisting the salad on her? That was unbelievable to me. Just make her a new salad, for goodness sake!

The one good thing was the side Caesar salad that came with my chicken. That was really good. But definitely not worth it for the hassle of the other salad, nor for the not-very-good chicken and potatoes. Nor the bad seats, nor the warm temp.

And God forbid they would give us a couple of pieces of bread, or crackers, or the sort, especially since we didn’t order just sandwiches, which come with their own bread, of course. Since they make sandwiches, we know they have wheat products on hand!

So, there you have it! The yin-and-yang of Food on Pico. Trust me—there’s a lot better food on that street!

Mr. X and I found ourselves in Santa Monica on a recent beautiful Friday afternoon. We were hungry, so I suggested we try the famous Water Grill. I had never even been to the original one downtown, so this was a treat.

But it was just okay. Nothing awful, but nothing special, either. For the prices, though, I was expecting a lot more.

The atmosphere was lovely. All the giant windows onto Ocean Avenue were open, and it was great to see, smell, and feel the ocean air, which you could do from just about any vantage point. For the unfortunate clientele whose seats face backwards, the whole back wall is windows into the kitchen, which many people find interesting. Even being a restaurant critic, I’ve never wanted to watch people prepare my food. But maybe being on display makes the cooks more honest in the cleanliness department. I can’t be sure about that, but at least it’s a possibility.

The wait staff was actually pretty good. But there were so many of them, in several capacities, that it was a tad confusing. Their pastel shirts, in different colors that I assume were supposed to differentiate their roles, were so close in hues that I couldn’t really tell them apart.

They constantly bussed the table, which I really appreciate, but they kept taking away food I was clearly still working on! It was mainly just bread, but it was really annoying to have to keep saving the bread and butter I was still eating! At least they brought me more, but they always grabbed away the exact piece I had been saving for the last bite! They really should be more careful. Every time I got a little piece of bread and butter exactly the way I wanted it, they ran over and pulled the plate away. (Mr. X just heard me writing that, because I’m using my voice dictation system, and he started laughing really hard. He always thinks you guys have to hear this stuff out of my mouth, rather than reading it. He, and many others, have been begging me to do my podcast already, so it’s coming soon; I promise. Stay tuned.)

We both had the beet salad, which was pretty good, but so is every beet salad I’ve ever eaten. Mr. X ‘s entree was Wild Copper River sockeye salmon, which he said was just “eh.” And he’s seriously a salmon connoisseur! He’s ordered it at several new (to him) places in the past month, and he deemed Water Grill’s to be the worst one!

I ordered swordfish, and it was good, but no better than the ones in Gelson’s service deli, which you get for less than half the price of Water Grill! The worst part is that it came with nothing but a bed of eggplant and olives, both of which I detest. So, I wound-up with swordfish and bread as my meal. (I know that I could have ordered a side dish when I saw that the fish was served basically by itself, but by the time it would arrive, my swordfish would have been cold, and Mr. X would have been long finished with his meal.)

There was only one dessert that appealed to me, but, at that point, I had eaten so much bread (because they kept replenishing it to make up for having taken away my half-eaten tidbits,) that I didn’t even want any sweets.

So, for us, Water Grill was just an okay experience, and one that never needs to be repeated. I know that you can’t fully judge an eatery by just a few dishes, (which is why my associates and I order so much when we’re doing a planned critique,) but that’s why this is a mini review. As I said, nothing great, but nothing awful, either. Just meh.

And here’s on picayune note: I always want to see what a restaurant’s restrooms are like. I assumed that the ones here would be really interesting, so I entered under where the big attractive sign was. But I was instantly disappointed. The doorway led you out to the generic restrooms in the lobby of the office building that surrounds the eatery, and you even have to use a code to get in. It ruined whatever magic I was experiencing by dining in a well-designed and appointed, upscale, beachy bar and grill.

What’s really odd is that, when I went to their site to get a photo for this review, you can’t copy the images!!! What’s up with that?! And when I tried to get them elsewhere on the web, all of them were blocked!!! I’m so glad I finally thought of taking a screen shot, or I’d still be searching!

Let me be frank with them, and say that these are among the worst hot dogs I’ve ever eaten, if not the worst! I also hate that this place is listed in the famed Zagats restaurant guide. I really feel that food trucks should not be listed as “restaurants,” but what can you do?

So, in my goal of eating in every place in the LA and NY guides, I found myself seeking-out this truck that parks in back of the Helms Bakery building on the outskirts of Culver City.

All I can say is “yuck!” The supposed big deal is that these dogs are free from all the bad things that go into hot dogs, but then what’s the point? They taste awful, kind-of like cardboard in a skin. You can eat good-tasting products that are also good for you, if that’s what we’re going for. These taste nothing like what a hot dog should. And I should know–I was raised I Brooklyn, the hot dog capitol of the world! This place has nothing on Nathan’s.

One very icky note on their site states “Animals raised on pasture, living the lives they were meant to.” I think they left out “…right before they’re slaughtered for your dining pleasure.” I don’t want to know about the life my food led before I’m consuming it. This statement is enough to turn me vegetarian!

The whole experience is nothing special. They have no menu, no fries or sides, and no real grill! It took almost a half hour for the guy to try to get out dogs even close to well-done and we finally gave up and ate them as is. Mr. X usually just eats and doesn’t complain about food, but he also said these were pretty bad. We kind-of just choked them done out of pure hunger, because there was nothing to savor and enjoy about them. He didn’t even like the Devil Sauce, their big-claim-to fame condiment.

And, with no menu, new customers don’t find-out about the hefty price tag ($5. per dog) until they pay. And why would you pay $5. for a even so-so hot dog, no matter how “grass-fed” it might be, with no fries, when right down the block on Venice, you can get an absolutely delicious grilled hot dog for $1. at Rally’s? And, they serve the best fries ever, and you don’t even have to get out of the car! And, when you ask them to grill the dogs a little extra, it takes just three minutes, and they’re perfect. I’m so glad I don’t live closer because I’d drive-through Rally’s every day, I’m afraid. Daily hot dogs just cannot be good for you.

Especially if they’re from Let’s Be Frank, which serves some of the worst dogs I’ve ever eaten. Cute logo, though.

Though you should not need this info:  www.letsbefrankdogs.com