Friday, March 14, 2014

We Must Try to Live


Two weeks ago, we saw Hayao Miyazaki’s last film “The Wind Rises.”  It is, in many ways, the most unique of Miyazaki’s prolific career.  If you have seen anything else (Spirited Away, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Princess Mononoke, to name a few) by Miyazaki, the obvious expectation is something set in an out-of-this-world, fantastic universe, with magical creatures or spirits or witches.  Even Ponyo and Princess Mononoke, both actually set in “real world” Japan, featured mystical spirits and talking animals.  The Wind Rises has none of that.  Other than some magical dream sequences, there’s not really a hint of magic.  But even in its real-world trappings, The Wind Rises is nothing if not magical.

Set before, during, and after World War II, the film tells the story of an aspiring aeronautical engineer, who wants to make the world a better place but is forced to create the next great figher plane for Japan’s war efforts.  I won’t really retell more of the plot than I have to, but the whole film centers on a translated french quote: Le vent se leve, il faut tenter de vivre: translated as “The wind rises, we must try to live (though more literally the wind rises, I must try living) from Paul Valery’s poem “The Cemetary by the Sea.”   It seems to me that the entire film is a sort of meditation on that line.   It’s a movie about war without being a war movie: in many ways, it offers a frank, anti-japanese-government-but-pro-japanese take on WWII that doesn’t surface very much in the US.   But the point never quite seems to be about politics. 

Because it’s a Miyazaki movie, you could just mute it and be dazzled by the animation: this time, he shows his expertise at animating the flight, the wind, and all of its effects.  But because it is a Miyazaki film, all of that visual splendor affects the film’s artistry beyond its dazzling shots and animation. 

The wind rises, and it is beautiful when it does.  But there is always a crash or a landing: but even a landing is an end to the flight.  As a film about an engineer, Jiro, there’s a certain sadness, even to his success.  The planes are meant to kill people, even though that is never what their creator wanted, it was the only way he could express his creativity.  There is no other option for Jiro: he has to create planes because it is the purpose of his life.  There’s no other option: the film is not even a meditation on determinism: it’s just that simple: Jiro exists to create planes, even if they are figther planes for a war he doesn’t want.  The wind rises.  He must try to live.  If it weren’t for the wind, there could be no flight.  If it weren’t for the war, there could be no outlet for his creativity.  The wind rises, so he must try to live.

At a point in the movie, Jiro falls in love with a woman who is terminally ill: but they are in love, so they must marry and make it work as much as they can: the wind rises, they must try to live.  It’s simply that basic: there are things in life they can control: their marriage and life in it, and things in life they can’t: both that they love each other and that she is dying.  That’s the dualism of the film: the wind rises, and we must try to live despite it.  But if it weren’t for the wind, there would be no flight, no planes, no life as Jiro knows and needs it (and, without putting much more plot into this, know that, were it not for the wind, Jiro would have never met his eventual wife). 

I’m not one much for message movies as such.  Just look at my post about the Oscars: 12 Years a Slave and Philomena were, to me, vastly overrated because of their message.  But I am not opposed to a film having a message: actually, I think any work of art probably does in some way, if it is truly a work of actual artistic expression. 

Hayao Miyazaki is one of the greatest living cinéartistes: it is no surprise that all of his films are high art in one way or another.  Though not may favorite of his work (Spirited Away is a masterpiece among masterpieces), The Wind Rises may be his most poignant film.  It has a clear message, in that “the wind rises, we must try to live” but it never tells you what that means: it shows you what it means.  That is great art.  Jiro’s life is a story of overcoming obstacles, but at the end of the film, it’s not as if he’s some kind of champion engineer living happily ever after.  At the end of the film, Jiro’s career is over, most of his planes have been destroyed (“that’s what happens when you lose a war” one of the characters says): but for what it was, while it was, Jiro can only say thank you for all he had, even if he has nothing to show for it now.  The wind rose, he lived.  It’s not about the end result for Jiro, it’s about how he lived while the wind was rising.  Like the planes he built, they either crashed or landed, but none of them flew forever.  For 35 years, Miyazaki rode the wind too.  Though most would, by all accounts, call him a huge success with plentty to show for it, it seems he cherishs the memories of the act of creation most, if we are to take any of The Wind Rises as a message from him.  (and it’s impossible not to, seriously). 

In that regard, The Wind Rises is appropriately unAmerican.  It’s not about the end result, it’s not about winning or losing.  It is about living while the wind is rising, succeed or fail.  Wars, disease, loss of loved ones, unintended and adverse goals set by authorities beyond our control all come in life: and they meet parts of us we can’t help: the temperment we’ve been given, the skills, talents, ideas, the people we love, the families we have: they all come together, the wind rises and falls with all of them.  But it’s the attempt to live within all of that, while we’ve still got the chance, that matters most.

None of The Wind Rises ever says any of that.  The entire film shows all of it.

 

-Zack

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Ten Restaurants You Have to Try, in (and around) Cleveland


If you’ve ever seen the movie “High Fidelity,” you’ve probably thought about creating a bunch of lists, just as a sort of way to catalogue your life.  After 15 years, it seems like the entire internet is finally getting around to that back-of-the-mind goal.  Buzzfeed uses the list as a means to communicate, CNN does its best to copy the format (and CNN’s best is not very good).  Everywhere you look, all over the internet, there are lists. 

 

It makes sense: lists are digestible: they can communicate a lot of information in a nicely-chunked up format that people can either choose to read entirely, or just scan and see the rundown.  As society  moves toward an increasingly game-like system, in which everything is turned into a mini-competition to increase productivity (it’s true, and I think it’s a good thing), there’s something inherently appealing about the list as a means of organization and communication with an implicit eye toward competition. 

 

I’m not one for brevity, and I’m not generally one for trendy writing.  I typically want to perfect my own style for its own sake than please the reader.   It’s like the difference between Fireball Whiskey and Jefferson Rye.  One is really popular right now and appeals to the current drinker (at least on Cleveland’s Westside…); but the other is a time-tested recipe, honed toward perfection for the last 300 years.  It has less mass appeal, but it is better at being itself.  Ultimately, that’s what I want, to be better at being myself.

All of that said, I thought I’d make a list, every now and then, because it is fun to make lists.  So here’s my first, roughtly approximated to the ten places I’ve enjoyed eating most since moving to Cleveland.  It’s not a ranking really, just an homage.  It’s also probably the “10 Best Restaurants in Cleveland” as would be determined by Cleveland magazine or the plain dealer.  Theses are ten of my favorites, for the unique reasons I’ll explain.  Most of all though, they are suggestions you should try next time you’re in Cleveland. 

 

(I’m still working on not being the type of writer who has to thoroughly preface everything, or at least to be better at being that type of writer.  I’m not sure).

 

10.  Crop, Ohio city (New American Cuisine)

                Built in a monstrous old bank building, a vestige of Ohio City’s old place as an actual part of downtown, Crop one of the most unique settings you’ll find in Cleveland.   Much of the early-twentieth century bank-skyscraper trappings remain: the original ceiling, floor, and artwork still adorn the space.  When we went, we got to sit at the “chef’s table;” a real treat: getting to see a busy kitchen.  If you go, I highly recommend the “chef’s table” if it’s available.  It’s like sitting at the bar, but instead of the drink prep area, you’re looking in on the kitchen at work.  Though that might sound a bit like subway, it’s much more like performance art.  It even came with an amusée bouche: an incredible pork belly bite topped with peppers and a dressing.  I had an incredible fried pork chop for dinner, but the best dish was probably our olive and goatcheese flatbread.  It balanced the two tangy twins perfectly with dates, greens, and an incredible, flaky but crispy crust.

9. Greenhouse Tavern, (Sustainable American-French) E. 4th

                I’ve never actually been here for dinner (though I hear it’s quite good).  It made this list foe 2 reasons: 1. The sort of bicycle garage atmosphere and 2. The wait staff.  I’ve had it for lunch a couple of times (a certain perk to working downtown), and though I enjoyed my food (a croque madame and spectacular truffle fries), it has been, each time, the excellent service that wins the day.  The people who work at Greenhouse absolutely know their stuff.  More than that, they are actually passionate about it.  Maybe it’s easy to be passionate about great food, but there’s something unique about this place.  They don’t just tell you an obviously prepared list of ingredients and general impressions: they tell you everything about the food, from where it’s sourced to how its prepared.  The food service industry is (ironically) a pretty thankless job much of the time: poor wages, poor tippers, entitled Americans.  I’m sure Greenhouse gets those clients and suffers those ills (though I’d not be shocked if they make better than minimum-server wages): whatever they’re doing here though, makes the staff love their work.  That’s the mark of a great place, good food or not.  I’ll let you know how I feel about the food when I actually get there for dinner though

8. Soho, (Southern U.S.), Ohio City

                I’ve got a pretty large soft spot for actual southern food and drink.  It’s probably so big that my hard spots are smaller than that soft spot.  Soho, though apparently named after a district of both New York and London, is actually shorthand for “southern hospitality.”  Though I despise the fact that they use boneless, skinless chicken for their fried chicken, even it’s pretty good.  Everything else is astounding.  I particularly recommend their spicy collard greens.  Though Heinen’s has changed it, this used to be the only place in Cleveland to get a Cheerwine (thank you Heinen’s).  Their cocktails are unique and worth the price (that’s rare, even in Cleveland), each named for a different southern city.  For being pan-southern, they actually do a good job acknowledging the diversity of the South- it’s not just St. Louis or Memphis style ribs or friend chicken and collard greens: they have southern-style seafood (that isn’t Maryland style: it’s almost impossible to find anywhere that differentiates), shrimp and grits, smoked mac and cheese, their fried fish is catfish, etc., etc.  Anywhere that acknowledges that South is not just Texas, New Orleans, bourbon, and friend chicken, is my kind of place.

7. The Indies (Indian), 5th St. Arcade;

                This is in a food court.  This is also the best Indian food I’ve found in Cleveland.  For 7 dollars at lunch, you get 2 pieces of Naan and a drink alongside 3 curries of your choice.  There are usually 4 or 5 vegetarian dishes, and 4 or 5 chicken dishes.  I typically get 2 vegetarian and a chicken.  My favorite is a vegetarian curry made with chickpeas and mustard greens.  Everything is perfectly spicy and flavorful.  The naan is buttered and crisp on the outside while pillowy beneath.  It might not have all of the options of a more typical Indian restaurant, but if you’re not picky and just want some Indian food, you’ll not find a better spot, regardless of price.  For the money, it’s a win-win.  

                Side note: The 5th street arcades are becoming the most incredible place in Cleveland, more and more each week it seems. 

6. Deegan’s (New American Gastropub), Detroit Rd. (Lakewood)

                Ah Deegans.  We’ve probably ate here more than basically anywhere else in Cleveland.  It’s close to our house and it never, ever disappoints.  Melt is next door and much more famous, but Deegan’s should be.  The menu changes all of the time because they keep everything seasonal, so it’s hard to say what I’d recommend eating.  Just know that they do everything right: the drink list is monstrous, though classic (there are no signature cocktails aside from the occasional seasonal).  A rotating seasonal cheese/sausage list provides the perfect alternative appetizer.  Their warm pretzel “bar snack” is soft, and served with a beer cheese you would literally kill someone for.  Those are just the things I know they have- their entrees, which are different every single time we go, never, ever disappoint.  I mean never.  I always say I want to try their burger next time, then they have some new dish I just have to try.  Someday, I will try the burger.  I’m sure it will be delicious.  My wife raves about the mussels constantly, but I don’t like mussels.  If you like mussels, I guess you should probably go to Deegans.

5. Happy Dog (Hotdogs and tatertots), Detroit Shoreway

                For 5 dollars at Happy Dog, you get a hot dog with whatever you want on it.  Whatever.  This does mean you can do something crazy, like peanut butter, marshmallow, and salsa.  Happy Dog is known for allowing these shenanigans. But it is actually the well-thought out hot-dog that will steal the day.  They have 7 or 8 cheeses, 7 or 8 vegetables (from relish to pickled jicama), 7 or 8 sauces (hot sauces, barbecues, all sorts).  From there, the hotdog is your canvas.  I particularly enjoy brie, onions, mustard, and their hottest hot sauce.  The tatertots are somehow magically delicious too.  Don't leave without trying them.

4. El Carnicero (New Mexican), Detroit rd.( Lakewood)

                There is much to say about El Carnicero: their margaritas are unique and spectacular, the environment is interesting and hip, their bartenders have a great sense of humor (for 5 dollars during happy hour, you can order “El Hipster”: a shot of tequila and a modelo- Lakewood everybody).  But there are two words that define the El Carnicero experience succinctly: refried beans.  If there is a better use of 3 dollars anywhere in the world, sign me up.  It’s just a side dish, but it is literally the most flavorful side dish you will ever eat.  They are perfectly spicy, wonderfully aromatic, and the texture is just right.  They aren’t pasty, but they aren’t just slightly smushed beans either.  Everything about them is perfect.  Everything.  They are what heaven tastes like.

3.  Mahall’s 20 Lanes (Progressive Bowling Alley fare), Madison Rd. (Lakewood)

                Yeah, this is a bowling alley.  But don’t tell the chefs that.  I’m not sure how they found them or what they were thinking, but Mahalls somehow put together the perfect set of snacks for bowling without having anything to do with mozzarella sticks or hot dogs.  I met one of the chefs accidentally once.  I was eating the collard greens, he asked me what I thought of them.  “They’re delicious” I replied.  “I’m glad to hear that” he said.  “ It’s my mother’s recipe.”  Mahalls is literally just letting people make their parent’s recipes, and they’re quietly making the best sourthern food in Cleveland, or maybe all of the north.   Their cole slaw, pulled pork, fried chicken, and collard greens are better than anywhere I’ve had elsewhere in town.  Actually, they’re better or as good than most of what I’ve had actually in the South.  I mean, they give you regional options with your (unsauced when you get it) pulled pork.  At a bowling alley.  That’s unheard of  in Ohio.  Heck, barbecue usually means either sauce, potato chips, or grill in Ohio, even at “barbecue restaurants.”  Mahalls is a bowling alley, but I just bowl so I can eat.  (also, it is a hipster mecca in everyway- they also have the best cocktails outside of the Velvet Tango Room (and they’re actually more unique) and an incredible beer selection)

2.  Light Bistro (New American Tapas) , Ohio City

                For the last three years, we’ve enjoyed Light Bistro for our Valentine’s day meal, and that’s mostly what got this here.  The Light Bistro, like many restaurants, offers a prix fixe for valentine’s day.  This year, we had to celebrate a day early, so we missed out.  I’m kind of glad we did.  Though it was good the last two years, I’d always wanted to explore the deeper menu.  Simply put, I enjoy any good tapas place for the variety.  Light Bistro is no exception.  The highlight is the pork belly: it’s perfectly cooked: tender, with the fat melting atop it.  After my first bite, I decided that bacon is a waste of pork belly.  It’s how pork should be eaten.  But everything we tried was delicious.  For dessert, they shake a bag of warm beignets in sugar, then provide 3 dipping sauces.  It’s even better than it sounds.  If you want taps in Cleveland, I don’t see how you could go anywhere else.

1.  Le Petit Triangle (French Café),  Ohio City

                I’m always a little torn about Le Petit Triangle.  We’ve been there once and it is simply supreme.  They do french right, it’s that simple.  In typical Cleveland fashion, it’s a hole-in-the-wall with the strangest shape you’ll find for a restaurant (the name comes from the building’s shape), and it has legitimate food, beyond the more highly touted.  It’s the best french food we’ve had in Cleveland, even if Brasserie 429 or Tartine get more publicity around town.  It’s very classic: they have steak with bleu cheese sauce, poulet au (insert seasonal sauce and vegetable), ratatouille, crepes, even frog legs and escargot.  It’s also highly affordable for what you get.  But you always know what you’ll get.  That’s why I can be so torn.  Cleveland has so many adventurous eating opportunities: it’s hard to ever eat at the same place twice.  But at the same time, there’s something to be said for doing good food well, and Le Petit Triangle does great food spectacularly.  It’s a very french/Cleveland experience.  Dinner takes a long time, as it should, even though the wait staff looks more like off-hour starbucks baristas than professional garcons.  So I’m torn- you know what you’re getting, and it’s not quite how you’d expect to get that.  But once you get it, it will be astounding. 

 

You’ll notice that I left off anything by Michael Symon and Melt.  It’s not that I dislike Michael Symon, and I certainly love Melt.  But I have a strict rule: if Guy Fieri has been there or knows you, I can’t endorse it publically.
-Zack