Movie Food

Friday Night: “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

Last night, I went with Josh and Katy to see “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” First, I ate Josh and Katy’s famous Friday night pizza.

Katy makes really good, really interesting pizza dough. Her secret? Brown sugar. It gives it a little zip; and by zip, I mean wallop not kick.

Josh and Katy used a new pizza stone so they had to scrunch the pizza together. So it made for much fuller slices. This was good, though, because we were all sated after two each.

Then we shot a Food Porn movie. (See: “Food Porn.”)

After that, it was off to the cinema. We purchased tickets online so we could defeat the mob. “You’ll never defeat us,” said John Gotti.

“Umm, John, you’re dead,” I reminded him.

At the theater, I gleefully approached the Snack Bar.

Prices, of course, are exorbitant, but isn’t that part of the fun? I purchased my all-time favorite movie theater food:

These were a little stale, but it didn’t matter. My one gripe is that now they package the Sour Patch Kids in a box so it looks like you’re getting more, but you’re not. When you open the box there’s a tinier bag than the bag you would get when you buy it in a bag. Those Sour Patch Kids need Reform School. (Did your parents ever threaten you with Reform School? My parents did. I wonder if that’s outdated).

Adam Briefly Reviews “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

Charlie Kaufman movies always leave me a little awed and a little fatigued. I admire them very much. I often say to myself: “God, why didn’t I come up with that?” Yet, this one actually left me feeling emotional too. I think it’s his best most emotional work. I was impressed with all the performances, especially Kirsten Dunst. She shows great range: from wild hilarity to deep sadness. What I liked most about the film, actually, was the way it illustrates the life of the mind: the scenes and the flow really capture the way a brain works. It all feels very natural yet always unexpected. And the director does a great job of keeping things gritty enough to be real. I give it an A-.

Saturday Night: “Network.”

When I think back on my childhood–that vague, distant glimmer over my shoulder–the memory that seems most consistent is Saturday nights at home with my brother and a babysitter watching movies and eating. The meal was usually pasta, and I remember one babysitter (who was also, come to think of it, our housekeeper)–Mabel–putting Spam in hers. The movie that seems most emblematic of this childhood trope is “The Goonies.” Also, though, there was “Ghostbusters II” because I remember terrifying my brother with my Vigo voice.

Occassionally, I enter modes where I want to relive my youth. I’ll dress up in diapers and eat little jars of Gerber. Tonight, I wanted to relive the Saturday night movie experience. I removed, from the stack of unwatched Netflix movies on my desk, the one that I had always heard of but never seen: “Network.” I picked up the phone and ordered Chinese.

Soon, a knock at my door.

“12.95,” says the man.

“Can I have 6 dollars back?” I ask, handing him a 20.

He picks 6 dollars from the bills in his pocket.

“Thank you.”

I prepare my plate:

There’s something very comforting about junky Chinese food, isn’t there? I love the Seinfeld routine where he talks about how Jews won’t eat pork unless, of course, they’re in a Chinese restaurant. Chinese restaurants are pork safety zones for Jews. Hence, I ordered my family’s favorite: Roast Pork Lomain. I also ordered two spring rolls and two cans of Coke, just so they would deliver.

Adam Briefly Reviews: “Network.”

Look, this movie is dated. There’s no doubt about it. The musk of the 1970s comes rolling off the screen, and everything around you starts tinting itself in shades of brown. Yet, after a while, the movie grows on you. The satire doesn’t seem to have teeth, but by the end it does. I think the performances are all great. Especially great, in my opinion, is the work of Faye Dunaway, William Holden and–in a pretty minor role–Ned Beatty. And in case you’re wondering what movie I’m talking about, it’s the one with the famous clip of the anchorman yelling: “I’m mad as Hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!” Grade: B+.