Southern Discomfort
Bayou
4/10
by James Ghazarian
As you walk into Bayou, you immediately feel as if you’ve stepped into a very tacky bar on Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Bayou is situated on 79 West Chippewa Street (where McMonkeez, and later, Club Vodka used to be) in between an adult video store and everyone’s favorite underage hangout, Level. How many times are we going to open the same bar under a different name? Bayou attempts to feign an upscale atmosphere with themed décor and ample places to party, but having cheesy indoor street signs and an unused lounge in the front of the club made me think otherwise.
It’s a good thing that the bar at Bayou is so long, since you’re going to need to be drunk to tolerate its terrible floor plan. There is no real dance floor. Instead, a badly-lit runway spans the length of the left side of the club. Scantily-clad dancing girls hired by the club try to get the crowd moving by shaking it on said runway, but they just add to the bevy of drunk girls who can barely stand up. The crowd at Bayou differs a little from its next-door neighbors. It’s strictly 21 and over, so there isn’t a surplus of freshmen like you would see at Level. I did, however, see some creepy old men in there who I’m pretty sure wandered over from the adult video store.
Due to the lack of a dance floor, most people choose to get down in the center of the club, which creates an impenetrable wall of traffic along the length of the bar. If you can manage to make it to the second floor of Bayou, you will find another lounge area with Rock Band and Guitar Hero 3 set up on a large projection screen, and a pool table. Even more annoying, for some reason, Bayou is sponsored by Shark energy drink. The Shark logo was plastered on everything imaginable; cups, tables, walls, a steel cage downstairs, and this one girl’s boobs. Those dancing girls—yup, they’re the Sharkettes. It felt like Bayou was selling its customer base to the Shark brand name.
A small perk of the club is the music isn’t half bad. DJ Vixxen spins a decent mix of hip-hop and pop from a booth behind a giant Mardi Gras mask on the second floor.
Again, with hot tunes being played, it’s a shame there’s no room to dance.
The problem with Bayou is that it’s confused. Not knowing whether it’s a club, a bar or a lounge, it essentially fails at being either of the three. The lounge areas all went mostly unused, and dance floor was nonexistent. Given the terrible design, and Bayou’s cursed location, it will most likely go the way of McMonkeez and Club Vodka, being remembered as another Chippewa club gone amiss.
A Look Beneath The Veil
Persepolis
9/10
by Joe LiButti
The latest comic to be adapted to the big screen isn’t what you might suspect. Devoid of the spandex-clad superheroes generally associated with comic books, Persepolis is an animated coming-of-age tale set against the backdrop of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. Author and artist Marjane Satrapi co-directs the film, ensuring a faithful translation of her award-winning, four-volume graphic novel autobiography.
The film depicts her childhood in Iran under the soon overthrown government of the Shah. An Islamic fundamentalist theocracy replaces the monarch’s regime and proves to be even more oppressive, hurtling Iran into a war with Iraq. We follow Marjane throughout her adolescent education abroad in Vienna, and return with her to art school in the ravaged, totalitarian post-war Iran. She must readjust to the repressive extremist anti-western government that has taken control of her home. Grossly restricting their freedoms and forcing their women underneath veils, the new Iranian regime eliminated “excesses” like alcohol and music, and bred martyrs with empty promises of heaven for those dying in service to Iran.
Throughout the film are brief interjections of history in the style of a beautifully rendered, animated puppet show, which effectively provides the context necessary while also keeping it entertaining. Satrapi’s black and white, minimalist drawings translate marvelously to the screen. The film simply couldn’t have worked as well were they to go live-action; with animation they are able to incorporate some wonderful dream sequences and abstract imagery. The simplistic look of the characters lends them a depth of empathy—they could be anyone, their problems happening anywhere.
The studio created to handle the film dazzlingly imbues these basic drawings with life in their expressions, and the way they move about their backgrounds. The animation creates an almost three-dimensional look at times, and remains incredibly fluid and lively throughout. The soundtrack also packs a lot of emotion into some of the more intense scenes in the film, making Persepolis one of the more deeply moving films I’ve seen of late—an impressive feat for an animated picture with French voice acting.
Up against Ratatouille and Surf’s Up for the Academy Award for Best Animated Picture, it would be a real shame if Persepolis lost. Even disregarding its powerfully touching narrative, the feel of the film and its novel animation style should warrant it the prize against run-of-the-mill CGI animal pictures (despite how enjoyable I found Ratatouille). The movie ends somewhat abruptly, but that’s a minor qualm in what’s an otherwise fantastic film I’d recommend to everyone. It’s of particular concern given our current entanglements in the Middle East and McCain’s plan to “bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.” It’s easy to forget that primary victims of Islamic Fundamentalism are the oppressed Iranian populace.
BOOM! HEADSHOT!
Nyko Perfect Shot
7/10
by Jason Polansky
What is the Perfect Shot? Quite simply, it is a $15 piece of plastic that allows your regular Wii Remote to be transformed into one badass blue and white pistol. It allows you to act out your gun-slinging fantasies in the Wii’s limited library of arcade shooters (games that involve no further effort than aiming at the screen and shooting). If you think this sounds like another useless gimmick to add on to the Wiimote, then you are only partially correct.
Among the waves of crappy cash-ins that make up the Wii peripheral market, Nyko has beaten the odds and proven that an accessory actually can improve a gameplay experience. The setup couldn’t be simpler; what you have out of the box is basically a pistol without a barrel. Just slide the Wii remote into the top and you’re ready to go. What makes things simpler is that there is a port at the bottom of the handle for easy attachment of the Nunchuck for games that may require it. Aesthetically speaking, the Perfect Shot looks and feels great. It’s the only gun bracket on the market with sights on it for precision aiming and a trigger that actually delivers a sense of responsiveness. The biggest problem with the design is that the only button you will have easy access to is the B-Trigger (the button under the Wiimote). The other buttons are on the top, which means you will have to move your hand around in an awkward position just to select options in the Wii startup menu or perform special non-gun actions in Ghost Squad.
Speaking of Ghost Squad, this is the game for which the Perfect Shot was created. In essence, you are pushed along a path and you shoot the seemingly endless stream of enemies similar to most arcade light gun shooters (like Time Crisis or Area 51). The ultimate test was setting the calibration of the remote beforehand so that pointing the remote at the screen actually meant I was aiming at the screen and then turning off the cursor in game. The result was a damn close replica of the arcade experience. Popping baddies was as easy as aiming and pulling the trigger. Of course, the Perfect Shot only provided a new way of pressing the B-trigger, so to see if it actually made a difference, I kept the cursor off and instead used the remote alone. The result was an exercise in frustration as all sense of accuracy was lost; it felt like I was changing channels as opposed to fighting terrorism. Even with the cursor turned on for accuracy purposes, the game turned into a point-and-click affair that grew old real fast.
Overall, I recommend Nyko’s Perfect Shot for two reasons: Ghost Squad and the upcoming House of the Dead 2 & 3. As the only true arcade shooters worth playing (Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles is boring as hell for a game about fighting zombies) you really have to gauge how much you like the two mentioned games and the genre in general. If you are someone who can’t get enough of light gun shooters, this is the Wii accessory for you. If not, you’re only missing out on a fancy piece of plastic.
More Like An Acquaintance
Amigo's
7/10
by Dana Rosewasser
American cuisine has never been my thing; burgers and sandwiches honestly bore me. “Neighborhood grill” restaurants always seem to attract screaming children, and their angry parents, which kills any possibility of ambiance. Amigo’s is a restaurant that remedies the latter, but brings nothing new to the table in terms of flavor.
Amigo’s offers two different settings; you can either have a drink at the spacious bar, or enter the dining room. The dining room interior resembles a French country home complete with deep mahogany chairs and booths reminiscent of heavily upholstered couches.
The noise level was relatively low. You could hear the Sabres game broadcasted off a big flat screen in the bar through double doors. To begin, a basket of French bread is served with choices of butter, olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and strawberry butter. For an appetizer I chose the crab-stuffed mushrooms topped with Hollandaise sauce (5/$7.95). The mushrooms were decently sized and perfectly cooked, while the Hollandaise sauce was very creamy and smooth with a hint of lemon.
Next, the Chicken in the Grass sandwich ($7.95) consisted of mozzarella cheese melted over a thick piece of grilled chicken and steamed spinach. The chicken was deeply charred on the outside, but its tender inside slightly redeemed itself. The Angus strip steak sandwich ($13.00) included nearly an inch of Angus meat topped with sautéed peppers and mushrooms, and mozzarella cheese. Both came with ordinary potato chips, bland macaroni salad, and a giant pickle slice. For desert, all cakes are $5.95 and vary from key lime pie to crème brûlée cheesecake. I had the Irish Cream cake made of three alternating layers of chocolate cake and exquisite Irish cream mousse.
Amigo’s selections range from burgers and sandwiches ($5.50 and up), to Italian specialties like Fettuccini Alfredo ($11.95). It also includes Buffalo favorites such as chicken wings (10/$6.95) and mozzarella sticks (5/$5.50). For the entire menu, you can visit blendings.com. Located in at the corner of Elmwood and Kenmore, Amigo’s caters to a diverse audience. The bottom line is that Amigo’s offers a great atmosphere to go out with friends or even a date. For the price, the quantity suffices, but in consideration of the people who favor more flavorful or exotic dishes, Amigo’s leaves something to be desired.
A Beer Lover's Paradise
The Village Beer Merchant
10/10
by Tori Burhans
When I lay my head down for my nightly forty winks, I escape to a dream world full of quaint shops filled to the brim with imported beers, gourmet groceries, a top-notch deli, and the freshest baked goods. Fortunately for us dreamers, the newest addition to the Elmwood Village aims to satisfy every craving. The Village Beer Merchant, located at 547 Elmwood Avenue opened up three weeks ago and has been building buzz ever since. Advertising the largest selection of brews in the area, downtown Buffalo finally has a store that caters to the beer connoisseur.
Upon entering the charming establishment, you’re greeted with a wide selection of food. Fair-trade tea, international hot sauces, organic snacks, and locally made products stock the first few shelves. If that can’t please discerning Buffalo gourmands, the cheese selection and olive bar is sure to win them over. Whether you’re looking for fresh marinated olives or a beer-infused Chimay cheese, this place has endless possibilities—even foie gras and rabbit sausage.
It doesn’t stop at packaged foods, either. The Beer Merchant hired a deli staff that makes sandwiches until 3 p.m. every afternoon. Designer sandwiches and wraps include a wide array of meat and cheese combinations like the “Mediterranean,” a prosciutto, Genoa salami, and capicolla sandwich on focaccia with a pesto aioli. The menu also offers a Reuben and a liverwurst sandwich—two classics. With a baked goods display provided by local bakeries coming soon, the storefront will be one-stop shopping for upscale treats.
What really makes this place unique is not the market section, but their beer selection. Soon, The Village Beer Merchant will boast around 800 different kinds of beer. Up-scale brews abound, it’s impossible to walk out of the store empty-handed. A wide array of local microbrews like Southern Tier and Flying Bison were side by side with their even larger selection of uncommon imports. Large 20 ounce as well as single 12 ounce bottles make it easy for you to try as many of the exquisite choices as they offer. Though they are a tad bit pricier than Consumer Beverage and Premier Market, their selection so far is hands down fuller than their competition. Though not yet at full capacity, they’re getting more inventories regularly to fill the store up to its brim.
Though their supply alone may be enough to make anyone rush down and check this place out, to top it off the staff was informative, and the interior was aesthetically pleasing, complete with stained wood shelves and an ornate ceiling. High tables and chairs near the window and free popcorn round out the many things these local storeowners did right. Up until now, downtown was missing a place to get good beer. The Village Beer Merchant fills that quota and then some.
Sucks Sucks Sucks
The Raveonettes - Lust Lust Lust
3/10
by Christiano Agostino
I understand Rolling Stone gave The Raveonettes’ fourth and latest effort, Lust Lust Lust, four out of five stars, accompanied by a rave review and lofty comparisons to The Velvet Underground and My Bloody Valentine. They went so far as herald them as the millennium’s “next wave” of contemporary music. With such repeated support of bland bands like this Danish pop duo, Rolling Stone only proves how little alternative credibility they have left, and how easy it is to jump on the bandwagon and shower in accolades the first fad the wind blows our way.
Lust Lust Lust, starting from its worn, cliché title and cheap artwork, is the tired homework of a band that doesn’t have anything left to say. It resorts to nostalgia in order to garner a few compliments before disappearing into well-deserved oblivion. This band has nothing of The Velvet Underground’s rebellious spirit, and even less of My Bloody Valentine’s quirky, unusual sound. Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo content themselves with a scholastic, soulless recreation of twang-infused ‘60s pop rock, reproduced down to the monotonous vocals and repetitive, mind-numbing harmonies you wouldn’t even find in the most commercial Beach Boys albums.
To make their sound a little more bearable to your average listener, they thought well to drown their blatant plagiarism in a sea of fuzz guitars, barely danceable rhythms and way more reverb than any healthy ear could handle. In spite of such sonic soup, the songs are for the most part unbearably slow, setting on a few chords from the beginning and then chugging along with no real direction or dynamic.
As much of a letdown as the music is, The Raveonettes’ musical exploits are no match for the sheer exercises in bad taste they call lyrics: “I struggle and I cry / I pounce with no revenge / At least I never lied / Or took the truth to rail.” It all seems carefully planned, aimed at selling a few more copies to the fair weather music critic inside all of us. Titles like “Lust,” “Expelled from Love,” and “You Want the Candy” should give you a good idea of how intensely The Raveonettes probed the depths of the human soul in this album. The graceless vocal harmonies of the duo are closer to the moans of hung-over partygoers the morning after and manage to mangle the lyrics down to unintelligible gibberish. Hopefully this “next big thing” doesn’t catch any more praise.
All You Need Is Love. No, Really.
Across the Universe (DVD)
7/10
by Matthew Hirschel
If you are a fan of musicals or The Beatles, you are in luck. Acclaimed Broadway director Julie Taymor dabbles in cinema with Across the Universe. Set in the tumultuous late 1960s, Across the Universe has a very Fab Four-esque message that hope and love can conquer hardship. While it runs a bit high on the cheese-factor at times, the ambitiously positive message of “getting by with a little help from your friends” can be very much relevant today. The two-hour running time and diverse melodic escapades make for a thrilling trip, and the creative utilization of The Beatles’ deep catalogue definitely stirs some emotion in the viewer.
Columbia Pictures blessed Taymor with a hefty production budget, and it shows during the grandiose and circus-y scenes like “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite,” and the druggy, sexy (thanks to digital Selma Hayek clones) “Happiness is a Warm Gun.” Regardless, the story remains relatively cliché. Boy-meets-girl, they fall in love, and everything seems perfect. Due in large part to the ongoing Vietnam War, there is a growing sense of anxiety and social unrest in their neighborhood, portrayed quite nicely in the “Helter Skelter” montage. Jude and Lucy (of “Hey Jude” and “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” fame) soon find their perfect world unraveling amidst this chaos. They learn through inspiring mottos of “All You Need Is Love” and “Come Together” that true love and friendship won’t be denied beautiful music for too long. That is, unless some buzzkill named Yoko or Mark David is involved.
Taymor does an impressive job of expanding on The Beatles’ musical ventures with her own inventive style, and the relatively unknown cast (save for a few cameos) performs them with the gusto a musical needs. The second disc of the DVD is chock full of meaty extras on top of the few thrown on with the movie, and they make you appreciate the hard work done behind the scenes. A highly recommended treat is the Bono-fied “I Am the Walrus” extended take. Ingest some mind-altering stuff to really experience this kaleidoscopic ride for all it’s worth. Just remember, “Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about” in Strawberry Fields.
Although the ‘60s were tainted by riots and war, The Beatles offered a refuge with their messages of peace and love. Taymor sort of modernizes their sugary pop and social commentary to provide similar upbeat messages that serve to make life seem more bearable. Across the Universe doles out some nice eye and ear candy. If you’re not already into The Beatles, and a little curious what all the fuss was about, I recommend giving Revolver or Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band a listen. Or give Across the Universe a rent, and you, too, can realize that love is all you really need.
Hating Christensen
Jumper
3/10
by Seth Silverbush
Already disliked by millions of Star Wars fanatics for his poor acting in the
prequels, Hayden Christensen needed to prove to the world that he is still movie star
material with the release of the new motion picture Jumper. Unfortunately for the young actor, the film was utterly underwhelming. Christensen’s performance was terrible; it fit right in with the rest of the dismal acting, directing, and plot.
The film begins with Christensen’s character, David Rice, as a bullied and tormented adolescent, only he’s no regular kid. He discovers he has the ability to teleport after being chased by a mean kid from school and falling into a frozen lake. Instead of drowning, he finds himself in a library. The concept may be thrilling and the film does contain the special effects necessary to enhance it, but the story is lacking. From there, Rice goes on to live alone in luxury as he uses his power to steal from banks and spend his days traveling.
When David finally returns to his hometown to see his first love, Millie (Rachel Bilson), he is hesitant to engage in conversation. Later, Millie comes up to him and remarks that she had been watching him for forty-five minutes, anticipating a friendly “hello.” Her nonchalance was puzzling since the last time she had been with him, she believed he had drowned. Bilson’s performance was nothing worth seeing. Teleporting is a pretty wild thing for a human to be able to do, and she wasn’t even fazed when David explains his actions.
The worst acting in the film, believe it or not, was by supporting actor Samuel L. Jackson as David’s nemesis, Roland. In one scene, David leaves Roland stranded on a secluded mountain, and instead of being furious, Jackson’s facial expression looked as if a vending machine just ate his dollar. He should stick to doing good movies instead of reducing himself to bland action films. I’m guessing he owes a bookie a bag full of cash, since he has been selling out lately with purely commercial flicks like Jumper and Snakes On a Plane.
Director Doug Liman, whose shaky career ventures range from The Bourne Identity to episodes of The O.C., delivers yet another low-rate movie adapted from a book. Jumper is just another poor attempt at an action movie made to sell tickets. Remarkable special effects used for explosions and teleporting dominated it, but were not enough to subdue the horrible mechanics of the film. Bilson herself might be the highlight of the movie, since staring at one of People’s “50 Most Beautiful People” for eighty-eight minutes isn’t too bad.
