Friday night, I attended a performance of Amélie: A New Musical at the Berkeley Rep. This was my first time attending a show at that theater—I’ve only lived in Oakland 6 months, y’all. And my biggest takeaway from the performance is that I will absolutely never buy an obstructed-view seat at the Roda stage again. Honestly, I could only see two-thirds of the stage at any given time from the loge. Don’t do it. Pay full price.

Especially pay full price for a show as charming as this one. Before I go on, you need to know that I’ve never seen the Amélie movie, and my knowledge of it was limited to knowing it’s a quirky indie flick starring Audrey Tautou. You should also know this review contains plenty of spoilers—I want to talk about what worked and what didn’t, and it’s hard to do that without specifics. Lastly, I have only one song title, unfortunately, because the program did not include a scene list, which makes absolutely no sense to me unless they still wanted the freedom to change things up during this first run.

So What Worked?

The Whimsy. From the off-kilter set design to the choreography, props, and performances, Amélie’s (modern-day, Samantha Barks; young, Savvy Crawford) imagination comes through without it being an over-the-top hammer hit of “LOVE ME AND MY QUIRKS!” It’s subdued whimsy, if you will. One of my favorite scenes was the simple staging of Amélie skipping stones: quickly raised pom-poms streaming with blue were all that was needed for the image to come across. Special kudos go to the hearts that magically appear during the scenes when Amélie and her love interest, Nino (Adam Chanler-Berat), spy on each other in the subway station. The show would undoubtedly be a lesser being without the travelling gnome number as well. The postcard puns were a sheer delight on their own, and David Andino’s enthusiastic performance made it a highlight of the show.

The Songs. A good 90% of this show is songs rather than dialogue, with music by Daniel Messé and lyrics by Messé and Nathan Tysen. The performances and the score had airy, breezy qualities that made the songs easy to understand and able to show off the tonality of the singers’ voices well. Nino’s solo, “Thin Air,” and Nino and Amélie’s shared song around the doorframe at the climax of the romantic plot were plusses for me. To be fair, I’m a sucker for the tried and true romance device of lovers separated by a door. I must say, however, that my favorite musical moments were when the company rises up in harmony, which occurs in several numbers. These songs won’t wear you out, they’ll just guide you effortlessly through the plot. And frankly, an easy-to-follow plot is a win for a musical.

The Choreography. The first scene that takes place in the Two Windmills Café is a fantastic number. Simple percussive beats made by slamming cups or various other objects made it engaging and a great introduction to the characters that inhabit the modern-day portion of the narrative. The first song of Amélie’s childhood—it involved a giant goldfish puppet performed by Paul Whitty, who also plays Joseph—also kept the energy and fun level high. Sometimes, simplicity truly is best, and that also came through in how the company was choreographed.

The Company. I’m not just talking about the engaging performances the cast gave here, though I’ll go ahead and single out the fruit-loving grocer Lucien (Perry Sherman) and Amélie’s father (John Hickok) as vivid characters I wish had more focus. What I’m talking about, really, is how the company acts as a momentum-building force within the show. It’s not the same as a Greek chorus; rather, you get the sense that the presence of each of these characters is essential—the story could not have happened in this time, at this moment without them. Amélie’s journey toward emotional vulnerability would be changed, different in some small way if any one of the characters had not been there. Which leads me to the last strength of the show….

Amélie’s Emotional Journey: The characterization of the show’s main character is somewhat of a gamble. The narrative begins with Amélie in childhood and skips to her rote daily life in what I’d guess are her late 20s to early 30s. Modern-day Amélie is a void. With a repressed childhood and her mother’s (Alison Cimmet, who also plays Philomene) early death, it makes sense she’d be afraid of making connections with others. And indeed, Bank’s hunched-over portrayal of Amélie’s body language is her most significant feature. Until the plot point of Princess Diana’s death and the subsequent hilarious hallucination of Elton John (Randy Blair, who also plays Hipoloto) in a song as close to an Elton John melody the composer could get without infringing on copyright—a feat unto itself. The song inspires Amélie to seek meaning for her life through brightening others’ days. It’s only then that Amélie awakens as a person in her own right, and that’s about a third of the way into the show already. Like I said, a gamble!

Even then, Amélie’s hesitant, not so sure her new quest is one for which she’s well-suited and I liked that a lot. She’s uncomfortable taking this step into the world and that makes sense for her. That uncomfortableness continues as we gain more insight into why she’s so crippled by fear of meeting Nino in person, to the point that she must come up with fanciful ways of putting off their inevitable coming together until she’s emotionally ready for it. It’s honest, but having the lead character so inaccessible for so long is hard. That choice worked for me; it could easily not work for people who haven’t had similar experiences. Which brings me to….

Room for Improvement:

The Opening Number. I assume it’s a carryover from the film, but why is this song focused on a fruit fly? The performers sing it well, and that powerful forward push of the company is effectively set-up right from the first note. But I couldn’t stop thinking that anything but a fruit fly would be a more powerful focus of the song. Why not a butterfly? Too many syllables?

The Passage of Time. The chronology is perfectly fine until Amélie starts doing her good deeds…and then the whole rest of the show could have taken place over a week as far as I could tell. During Amélie’s fight with her neighbor, the glass man Dufayel (Tony Sheldon), I got the impression she had been working on her quest and finding safe ways to risk connection over several months. But I’m still not sure I was supposed to assume that, and if I was, I should have known that earlier. Some sort of passage of time notice would have done wonders for me to (a) buy into the romance, though in entertainment I must accept that romances are always whirlwind; and (b) be willing to accept she’d made a significant impact on people’s lives through her anonymous gestures. As it was, I felt Amélie had barely emotionally progressed to the point of participating in others’ lives before I was told she’d been using that as a crutch to stop living her own.

The Half-Way Boat Song. It’s a song that gives us great insight into why Amélie’s afraid of connecting with others in that she’s taken to heart her mother’s instruction that distances are never broached, only ever divided by half. But I got that message within the first few lines of the chorus—I didn’t need to watch Amélie’s mother give the lesson, young Amélie try to make it clear, and modern-day Amélie try to complete the walk to Nino and then retreat in fear. There just wasn’t enough movement on the stage for the number, so it felt like dead air to me. The boat and math equation projections are fine, but they aren’t exactly lively on their own. It was one of the moments when I wondered if my obstructed view was making me miss some background action.

Dufayel’s Final Painting. How great would it have been to see Amélie painted as the Mona Lisa or some equally well-known object d’art? Why didn’t we? Was this another obstructed view problem? I felt ripped off to learn Dufayel had moved passed his artistic block but not see the results of that progress.

That’s about it. The positives far surpassed the negatives for me. Amélie: A New Musical has oodles of potential that are by and large fulfilled. I hope it does get another incarnation that extends its life beyond its Berkeley Rep run.

Attended 18 September 2015.

I was contacted to do a review for Attractive Unattractive Americans: How the World Sees America, a book written by René Zografos, an award-winning Norwegian-Greek journalist. It is published under his own imprint, Renessanse Publishing.

I don’t do many book reviews, but this one’s subject matter caught my eye. “Almost every human being on the planet today knows something – and feels something – about America…But what does a world that contains seven billion people really think about the most talked about – and controversial – nation on earth?” reads the press materials, and frankly, I’m a sucker for every article I come across that tries to answer that question. Even in our modern connected world, we live such a myopic experience in the USA, tangled up in our own affairs in part because of how large of a country we are geographically and in part because rugged individualism is in the American DNA. We think we know how foreigners see America—the use of ‘Murrica! is now common parlance as is the notion we’re supposed to be world saviors yet are viewed as world manipulators. But are these conundrums what most people outside the USA ponder about us on the whole?

Zografos tackled that question through seven years of collecting anecdotes from and interviewing travelers and locals throughout the world, from Malaysia to the United Arab Emirates to Costa Rica. He has a direct, honest, and contemplative writing style.

The book is organized as a series of essays, some by Zografos and others by invited writers, on different topics related to the American identity. Interspersed with the essays are short quotes from interviewees in different geographical locales. Through this structural backbone, common themes arise that sometimes seem in direct conflict with each other. For instance, an admiration for American manners and our optimistic, you-can-do-it! attitudes comes through just as strongly as a disdain for American superficiality and lack of authenticity in our friendships. I found the comments about superficiality especially intriguing being as I come from the region of the USA that Americans themselves have deemed the most superficial: Southern California. So it was especially interesting to see so many travelers say Americans in general don’t have genuine friendships or make real connections with other people. I’m still chewing the cud on that one. Do people in other countries use that expression?

Another common theme was a general disavowal of American cuisine—the portion sizes, the sugar, fat content, et cetera. They are right on all counts, but what do we make of having our diets scorned while simultaneously being praised for the invention of the hamburger? This irony of being praised for the same things that generate the harshest critiques is, of course, exemplified in the book title itself.

There’s a lot of fodder for discussion and contemplation in Attractive Unattractive Americans that made it well worth the read for me.  I have only two critiques, both of which likely stem from my perspective as an American. The first is the “Jailhouse Blues” chapter that recounts crazy state laws. While that might prove interesting to foreign readers, American audiences are well familiar with these ridiculous codes, so it serves no purpose other than shutting down the interesting discussion Zografos has going for a few pages.

My second critique is that the final quarter of the book reads like a series of advice letters to Americans, all written by Zografos, that sometimes draws on discussion that came before it and sometimes doesn’t. Part of this book’s strengths are the many different perspectives it provides, so to end with only one person’s voice, however well-intentioned the conclusions may be, was not as successful for me as the preceding chapters, and majority, of the book. In particular, I bristled at Zografos’ assertion that the America he first visited is not as nice as the America of today, and he lays that charge at our youth. I always scoff at the notion of there being a grand old yesterday of American history in light of how much progress human rights have made into the here and now of today, not to mention our fallen crime rates. But it’s more that I simply disagree that young Americans are responsible for rising xenophobia in the wake of 9-11 or that we (I’m speaking as an elder Millennial) are more pessimistic than our forebears. I think it’s quite the opposite, actually, as I’m very optimistic about what our open-minded and creative generation is doing to move this country forward.

Regardless of my disagreement with those theories, Attractive Unattractive Americans was enlightening, surprising, and both a skewering of American culture and a celebration of its merits. That’s not an easy feat to pull off, and I applaud Zografos for seeking genuine opinions rather than knee-jerk ones and taking the time to present the material in a manner that allows us to mull it over for ourselves.

If you’re interested in the answers Zografos gathered to that age-old question, order Attractive Unattractive Americans below! It’s now available on Amazon in paperback and ebook formats.

Not ready to commit? You can get more of an idea of the book by visiting its Tumblr page.

Obligatory disclaimer: I was provided with a review copy of the book.

Last month, in advance of its December release on DVD and VOD, I screened a little indie flick from 2011 starring Nicole Beharie of Sleepy Hollow fame. Beharie's smiles are magical on Sleepy Hollow, so I welcomed the opportunity to see more of them in this Brooklyn tale of musician Leticia (Beharie) striking out on her own and German businessman Niklas Hank (Ken Duken) vowing to seduce her on his one day in town.

That sounds like the set-up for a bigscreen whirlwind romance that I rarely buy into, but My Last Day Without You resists taking the predictable paths toward superficial love connections. Leticia is no manic pixie girl, and Niklas is not a floundering manchild. Rather, he's a corporate hatchet man in the vein of George Clooney's character in Up in the Air, and he shows little compunction when confronted by the people whose jobs he's just ended.

During one of many shots beautifully framed through windows, Niklas meets Leticia, who offers him one of those smiles and a sample of her CD.

Niklas is entranced by this charismatic woman. With the encouragement of his chauffer, an avowed romantic played with relish by Robert Clohessy, Nik vows to seek Leticia out as a distraction until his flight back home that evening.

Unbeknownst to them all, Leticia is a casualty of Niklas's company's downsizing. That job had been the means by which she could finally move out from under her father's loving, but controlling, thumb. Her father, Lester Johnson (Reg. E. Cathey) is the pastor of a church in Brooklyn, the setting for his own unexpected but thoroughly delightful romance with faithful congregant Luz (Marlene Forte). Their love story is a mirror of Leticia and Niklas's. Whereas the main couple has just met and are testing how far to take their instant attraction, Lester and Luz have been friends for many years and must now decide if companionship and matching emotional baggage are enough to bring an attraction about. The awkward scene in which Luz lays down her case for them to date is a highlight of the film. Lester is blindsided, but as his later actions show, why waste time when you already know a person through and through?

It's that getting to know a person part that guides much of the action for Leticia and Niklas. Leticia quickly figures out that Niklas is the three-martini-lunch type of guy, and that is not her MO. Although her anger over her job loss propels her to test the waters, she's still a good Christian girl who remains true to herself throughout the film.

Yet she's intrigued to know more about this insistent stranger. The audience pieces together Niklas's background at the same pace as she does. My expectation as a conditioned movie viewer was that I should root for Niklas to grow as a person, but neither I nor Leticia were sure that's something Niklas was capable of or even wanted to do. Thankfully, this is a film wherein Niklas ultimately has to work that out for himself, and the audience cannot be sure of the outcome.

The moment when I realized I could trust these filmmakers to do the unexpected came after Niklas believes he has undergone a transformation. But when he tries to press money into Leticia's hands to pay for borrowing a pair of her father's shoes, I shook my head right along hers, knowing as she did that Niklas just didn't get it. Sharing that connection with Leticia gave me the release I needed as a cynical viewer to buy into the movie's final scenes.

With a script that smartly delays a foregone conclusion, a set of engaging side characters, and plenty of spark between the two leads, I found My Last Day Without You to be a delightful, believable tale of love that might be.

It was directed by Stefan Schaefer and produced by Christoph Silber. The story is loosely based on the events of Silber's own chance encounter with love. The pair co-wrote the film as well as much of its original music. Turns out Beharie can sing!

The soundtrack is available on iTunes and Amazon, and the film has now been released through DVD or streaming at Amazon, Vimeo, and most anywhere else you can purchase movies online. You can also access it directly from the film's website, here. Amazon buy links follow.

It's been a while since I've shared a bragging post. This one is courtesy of my being quoted in a recent Bloomberg Businessweek article on the origins and staying power of RumChata.  You may recall that I reviewed RumChata back in 2012, and you can read that review by clicking on the picture.

What did I have to say about RumChata for Bloomberg Businessweek? It's just a quick quote on its versatility:

The drink also simplifies home cocktail making, says Eden Laurin, managing partner of the Violet Hour, a cocktail bar in Chicago’s hip Wicker Park neighborhood. Drinks with more than three ingredients are confusing to make, Laurin says, so having one spirit with several flavors is appealing. “It cuts out a step by already having cream, spice, and rum combined in pleasant ratios,” says Rebecca Gomez Farrell, a food and drink blogger in California.

Swing by the article to learn more about this unique--and fast-selling--cream liquor.

Emily Matchar, a journalist and writer based in Chapel Hill for at least part of the year, published a book, Homeward Bound, on the movement toward reclaiming the domestic arts for women among twenty- and thirtysomethings, which she coins as "the New Domesticity."  When she sought reviewers (meaning my copy was free), I jumped at the chance because I've been fascinated by the do-it-yourself attitude of our generation: chicken raising, canning everything, and covering every body part in some form of cable knit. I often feel like I'm the only person I know who doesn't want to sew her own dresses or make radish pickles. I admit to being amused at the misadventures my friends have trying to keep chickens alive. I get the appeal of gardening and the pride of wearing something you've made yourself, but it all takes so much work. And time. And I manage to fill up all my time with work as it is. Why would I want to add more?

Which is what Matcher's books asks: Why are more and more people spending their time making their own vinegar or sewing their own cloth diapers? Is this a trend backward or forward? What are its roots? Matchar interviewed many women, and some men, who are partaking in the more extreme ends of this movement by taking themselves off the grid, committing to attachment parenting, and/or blogging all about the experience and making careers out of making homes. There's no judgment in the book, and Matchar deftly handles the irony of a generation of people returning to what their feminist forbears fought to get away from. In fact, many of the women in the book frame reclaiming the domestic arts as an act of feminism, as having the right to choose whether to have a career or a life in the home and to relearn the skills that were taken from them due to being deemed oppressive.

The motivations discussed in the book for making such a big change in lifestyle range from workplace dissatisfaction to resenting absentee parents to distrust of government's ability to make foods safe. This is where Matchar's analysis shines strongest, cutting to why, in increasing numbers, people are reinventing their lives with a focus on domesticity and family. She makes clear that the tasks of domesticity aren't a problem and are often admirable work, but the underlying reasons some people have chosen to devote themselves to them are. And she doesn't refrain from pointing out the chinks in the armor of this revolution, either. New Domestics, by and large, can afford to withdraw from the consumer culture in the first place, even if they pinch every penny from a single income household after. Women who put aside workplace skills can end up in a bad spot if the supporting partner leaves—and nearly all the couples involved had at least one of them still employed in a traditional workplace. And of course, prioritizing parental instincts over the realities of scientific study lead to things like the anti-vaccine movement and the resulting increase of diseases that had been nearly eradicated in the USA. Most importantly to me, it shows a declining faith in solving problems as a society rather than as individuals.

Matchar also highlights very interesting similarities in language in the ways people talk about their commitment to New Domesticity from both progressive and conservative standpoints. Progressive women who feel drawn to relearn what Grandma used to know talk about doing what comes naturally to them. Replace natural with God, and the arguments are identical to those of women who became homemakers for religious reasons.

I would have liked a little more exploration of how simple rebellion may play a role in the origins of the New Domesticity as well. If our mothers rejected the home because they didn't want the same lives as their mothers, then maybe we've taken up those tasks and focuses as hobbies or a lifestyle for the same reason—because our mothers didn't. Regardless, "Homeward Bound" is a needed book that does a great job examining the trend, its origins, the motivations of those who devote themselves to it, and the societal problems its existence exposes. It's well-worth the read.

Homeward Bound: Why Women Are Embracing the New Domesticity
By Emily Matchar
Simon and Schuster
288 pages
Buy Here

I'm a little (a lot) behind on the times in that I'm just now posting this teaser here, and it was published about a month ago at WRAL's Out and About blog. Oops! My time from reviewing a spot/drink to posting about it is on a month lag right now, so that's par for the course! Oh well. Someday, I'll get back to more of a 1--2 week lag.

But enough of my behind-the-scenes issues. Here's a teaser of my review of Sarah's Empanadas:

Durham, N.C. — Sarah’s Empanadas is one of those lunch locations the RTP crowd keeps close to their vests. I’ve spied it many times when heading to dinner at Papa Mojo’s or Thai Lanna, but it’s only open at midday, so getting there during operating hours was a challenge—a challenge now conquered!

The Company: A pair of women whom I meet up with every month to try a new-to-us lunch location, which was quite convenient for this purpose.

The Location: A nondescript strip mall exterior hides a cozy restaurant. Inside, Sarah’s Empanadas is adorned with tropical bird decorations, creamy mint walls, and a giant, colorful mural. It’s also likely to be packed with diners and a long line of patrons paying at the register. Never fear, the cashier is speedy and has amazing credit-card-sliding reflexes....

Want to know more about the Bolivian empanada wonderland? Read on here.  And I wouldn't leave you without some food porn. Here's the chicken and cheese empanada.

I'm a little slow this time in letting you all know I have another review up at WRAL's Out and About. Forgive me? This one was on Village Burgers, the hamburger joint inside the University Mall in Chapel Hill. Was it worth reviewing? You bet your brioche bun. Here's your teaser:

CHAPEL HILL, N.C. — The mall is rarely my choice when I’m craving a burger, but one of our local chefs, Giorgios Bakatsias, opened a joint in Chapel Hill’s University Mall that is likely to change my tune. The Giorgios Group owns a string of fine-dining restaurants in the area, including Bin 54 and Parizade, so I was intrigued to see what would happen when this upscale, internationally trained chef took on the quintessential American meal...

You can read the rest of that review at WRAL here. And because a photo makes everything more exciting, here you go.

It's been a while since I posted a bragging entry--I still have much to share! I haven't even gotten to my Bull Spec story, Bother. But life gets busy, and when it does, the bragging falls off my list of to-dos. Today, though, I have a new WRAL review to share with you! Published on Monday, here is my take on the newest food incarnation in that catchy little orange building by the 147 and Fayetteville overpass. Here's your teaser:

Munchëz is located in a little stand that switches owners and cuisines faster than new signs can be produced. I’m still in mourning for the charbroiled chicken tacos from its last incarnation called Pollos La Carbonera. But now, it has been reborn as a sandwich, burger, salad, wings and hot dog joint. Thus, a new visit was in order.

The Location: Munchëz is in an orange and yellow hut that looms up right before the I-147 on-ramp driving up Fayetteville Road into downtown Durham. You can walk up and order at the front window or drive through, but it does take longer than fast food. My meal took about 15 minutes, which they apologized for as lengthy.

And you can read the rest at WRAL Out and About here. Want a photo to further entice you to click their way? Sure thing.

It's that time of the week again! This time, I have two food blogging items to brag about, both recent developments. First, Carpe Durham, one of the blogs I contribute to, was a finalist for the third year in a row in the Best Blog category in the Independent Weekly's Best of the Triangle awards.

I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be part of a website with passionate readers who vote for us year after year. Thank you so much!

Second, I have another review up at WRAL's Out and About. This one is of the newly added brunch menu at the Durham and Hillsborough Bandidos locations. Here's your teaser:

Bandidos is located a hop, skip and jump from my house, so you can bet my husband and I are regular customers. They serve Mexican food in the American style: rice, beans and whatever combination of meat, cheese, sour cream, lettuce and tortilla you want. It’s not street tacos, but it’s comfort food to me. Their salsa is my favorite in the area, and their house margaritas are impressively tasty and strong for the price. Don’t miss Margarita Mondays when they are $1.99 per mug!

You can read the rest of that post here. See you next week for more of my food-blogging bragging. We'll get back to fiction eventually. ,)

Last Thursday, my first post for WRAL's Out and About--their blog on the Triangle's entertainment, food, and nightlife--went live, and I didn't even realize it! If I had, you can bet I'd have let you all know about it then. I'll be contributing a couple more pieces for WRAL during the course of the year, and I look forward to it! This first one is on 604 West Morgan, a fancy and delicious Italian restaurant hidden in downtown Durham's warehouse district. Here is your teaser:

I have a compulsion when dining out in the Triangle – I must try a new place every time! We are spoiled with amazing options, and I’m lucky enough to have friends just as excited to try them all as I am.

My dining companions on this particular evening all work in the American Tobacco District in downtown Durham, so we wanted somewhere nearby. The usual suspects like Revolution, Rue Cler and Dos Perros were quickly eliminated – we’d all been to them before!

Where we hadn’t been is an Italian restaurant just half a mile away in the redeveloped West Village warehouses. Unless you happened to glance into the courtyard between the Flowers Warehouse and Cooper Shop buildings as you walked down Fernway or Morgan streets, you wouldn’t know 604 West Morgan was tucked away inside.

For the rest of the review, and pictures, head to the post!