In my exhaustive attempt to find content for this blog on a daily basis, welcome to my new monthly feature. You often see what I had for dinner the night before. Well, now you can know how I make some of this stuff. I have gotten into serious cooking of late. And, while I have been using some noted cookbooks from the likes of Valerie Bertinelli, the Barefoot Contessa, and Giada DeLaurentiis, some of the recipes are so damn good that I have to share. And I will do it here. First up is this delicious cucumber salad from the kitchen of Valerie Bertinelli. It was such a hit on Christmas Day that I have made it several times since. And it's so easy. A cool and refreshing side dish that is perfect as a compliment to beef. Or, as I have found, a tangy turkey or sausage-based chili. Try it. You won't be sorry. It's really Japanese, but you can serve it with a variety of cuisines. Get yourself a large cucumber or two small ones. I prefer the English cucumber which has a little better flavor. Slice it thinly through a mandolin and watch your fingers. Put the cucumber slices in a bowl covered with cold water and keep it there for about an hour. This is a move I remember from my grandmother. The soaking removes a lot of the cucumber acidity. While the cukes are bathing, mix your dressing together in a bowl. 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons of rice vinegar. 2 tablespoons low sodium soy saice. 4 teaspoons sugar. 4 teaspoons sesame oil. Whisk that all together. Drain the cucumbers and place the slices in a bowl. Pour the dressing over them. Fight with some cling wrap and cover the bowl. Put it in the refrigerator to marinate at least for a few hours. Even better if it's overnight. Enjoy! Dinner last night: Leftover ravioli.
Happy birthday to Warren Beatty and I apologize again. For what? You'll have to read on. 1296: EDWARD I SACKS BERWICK-UPON-TWEED DURING ARMED CONFLICT BETWEEN SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. For a 15 yard loss. 1822: THE FLORIDA TERRITORY IS CREATED IN THE UNITED STATES. Good. Now New Yorkers have some place to go during the winter. 1841: THE NATIONAL BANK OF GREECE IS FOUNDED IN ATHENS. Where else? 1842: ETHER ANESTHESIA IS USED FOR THE FIRST TIME BY DR. CRAWFORD LONG. 100, 99, 98....zzzzzzzzz. 1855: AMERICAN CIVIL WAR - "BORDER RUFFIANS" FROM MISSOURI INVADE KANSAS AND FORCE ELECTION OF A PRO-SLAVERY LEGISLATURE. I love the word "ruffian." 1856: THE TREATY OF PARIS IS SIGNED, ENDING THE CRIMEAN WAR. What the hell is a Crimean? 1867: ALASKA IS PURCHASED FROM RUSSIA FOR $ 7.2 MILLION. And an Eskimo to be named later. 1870: TEXAS IS READMITTED TO THE UNION FOLLOWING RECONSTRUCTION. Okay if you insist. 1909: THE QUEENSBORO BRIDGE IN NEW YORK CITY OPENS, LINKING MANHATTAN AND QUEENS. And immediately got jammed with rush hour traffic. 1913: SINGER FRANKIE LAINE IS BORN. Rawhide!! 1926: TV GAME SHOW HOST PETER MARSHALL IS BORN. Charlie Weaver to block. 1930: SINGER ROLF HARRIS IS BORN. Tie me kangaroo down, sport. 1937: ACTOR WARREN BEATTY IS BORN. I literally knocked him over in the lobby of the Beverly Hills Hotel when I was listening to the Dodger game over my phone. Nice guy. 1939: DETECTIVE COMICS # 27 IS RELEASED, INTRODUCING BATMAN. And Robin? 1944: WORLD WAR II - ALLIED BOMBERS CONDUCT THEIR MOST SEVERE BOMBING RUN ON BULGARIA. Bulgaria? Seriously? 1954: THE YONGE STREET SUBWAY LINE OPENS IN TORONTO AS THE FIRST SUBWAY IN CANADA. Mon Dieu! 1961: THE SINGLE CONVENTION ON NARCOTIC DRUGS IS SIGNED IN NEW YORK CITY. Paging Frank Serpico. 1964: JEOPARDY, HOSTED BY ART FLEMING, DEBUTS. Odds and Ends for $20. 1981: US PRESIDENT RONALD REAGAN IS SHOT IN THE CHEST OUTSIDE A WASHINGTON DC HOTEL BY JOHN HINCKLEY JR.. Not a great day for James Brady either. 1986: ACTOR JAMES CAGNEY DIES. He's a Yankee Doodle Corpse. 1999: COMIC GARY MORTON DIES. Married Lucy and became famous. Because he married Lucy. 2002: THE QUEEN MOTHER DIES. Mum's the word. 2013: MUSIC PRODUCER PHIL RAMONE DIES. Little know fact: he's the one who recorded a drunk Marilyn Monroe singing "Happy Birthday" to JFK. Dinner last night: Leftover barbecue chicken and Brussels sprouts.
It's amazing how you find yourself at a movie. I had no plans to see the well-reviewed, but extremely graphic "The Revenant." Even though it was up for the Best Picture Oscar, too much advance word about disgusting segments managed to turn me off. Then, on the night before it would eventually lose the Best Picture Oscar to "Spotlight," a good friend of mine called and said she had a spare ticket to those premium theaters where you eat dinner in a luxurious recliner while watching a movie. Of course, the tickets were for "The Revenant." Um, eating while watching that graphic bear mauling scene? I made a plan to wear my messiest clothes that I could puke on. So, yes, I did go. And, for a movie that I had no desire to see, I was pleasantly surprised. And riveted the whole way through. Was it the best film of the year? Er, no. I still think "Spotlight" deserved that Oscar. But the story of "The Revenant" was so simple and yet amazingly captivating. You probably know the plot. Leonardo DiCaprio is in the wilderness with a bunch of pelt traders. He gets the shit kicked out of him by a bear and is left to die. He seeks revenge and then begins an arduous trek to find his enemy. Along the way, he is chased by Indians, braves icy waters, rides a horse to its death over a cliff, and then sleeps inside the carcass for warmth. Okay, admittedly, none of that is horrible compared to watching one of the Presidential debates. But, despite the graphic nature of it all, my eyes were glued to the screen. Maybe because I knew that the killer bear was really CGI and really a guy in a furry suit against a green screen. In 2016, you suddenly become more blase about that kind of stuff because you know so much of what you see is concocted on a computer screen. But, still, "The Revenant" held my interest. That's testimony to the story which quickly enveloped me. Sure, DiCaprio's performance is really nothing but a bunch of grunts and groans as if he's being given a 24 hour enema. And, yes, the movie is probably about 45 minutes too long. Yet, despite it all, I was glad I went. By the way, those luxury cinemas are a hoot. While reclining in a leather chair with a nifty proscuitto and argula flatbread sandwich, you can literally sit through anything. And, no, I didn't vomit. LEN'S RATING: Three stars. Dinner last night: Ravioli.
We wrap up our anniversary month with one of the first Video Laughs ever. Meow. Dinner last night: Slow cooked barbecue chicken, rice, Brussels sprouts sauteed with pancetta and garlic, and marinated cucumber salad.
Now if my pastor saw what I just wrote, she'd flip. She's all about the inward journey you're supposed to take during Lent. But, realistically, Easter Sunday never garners the same magic that Christmas has. I mean, let's face it, there are no radio channels exclusively devoted to Easter music. How many times can you listen to Judy Garland sing "Easter Parade?" Plus there are no gifts and really no groundswell of family and friends gathering. There's the whole Easter bonnet thing and the basket full of candy, but really nothing else. And, frankly, there is no song that proclaims "nobody should be alone on Easter." And that's the way Easter has evolved. The last few years, Easter fell in the regular MLB season so I spent it with a Dodger Dog at Chavez Ravine. This year, I'll probably come home from church, get into some sweats, and watch a Biblical epic on Blu Ray. That's not to say that my family didn't try to make Easter as important as other holidays back when I was a kid. The religious importance was emphasized as well it should be. It always started with Good Friday. Now this featured a reverence that was drummed into my head. First of all, it would be the one day all year that my grandparents would actually go to church. There was a German language service at our St. Peter's Lutheran on 219th Street in the Bronx. This was a big deal for them. At home, my own parents got into the Good Friday swing of things. Even though we were Protestants, it would be the single day of the year where Mom and Dad insisted that I not eat meat. To this very day, I think about this edict and try to keep it going. Also extremely difficult in those years where Good Friday fell during the baseball season and I would be...gasp...eating a Dodger Dog. I'd argue that there probably wasn't all that much meat into a Farmer John wiener any way. Then there was the uber-religious kid in my neighborhood who scared the pellets out of me one Good Friday. A devout Catholic, this guy told me that he had it on good authority...from whatever nun was teaching him that year...the skies would always darken from 12 noon to 3PM every Good Friday to mark Jesus' time on the cross. Uh huh. I'd contend that this was illogical. Would the dark clouds adhere to time zones? For instance, was this darkness going to happen 12 Noon to 3PM Eastern and 11AM to 2PM Central time? Of course, just as this phenomenon was shared with me, the clouds did get dark and somber that Good Friday. And, for a moment or two, I thought this lunatic was right. It did give this nine-year-old pause to think. For a while when I was a kid, Easter did have a family aura. There would be big dinners at a rotation of relatives' houses. But, quickly, this was the first holiday that would fall off the communal grid. Too many arguments and not enough ham. Indeed, I can recall one Easter Sunday where my father and mother ordered out for a bucket of chicken. But I was encouraged to go to church service nonetheless and my mother would always deck me in a new outfit for the holiday. I remember vividly a blue double-breasted blazer that made me look like a game show host. And, of course, you'll notice the Easter photo at the top of this page. A rare family photograph with me in a red sports jacket that screamed St. Louis Cardinals. I note that my father is in a suit and that was rare unless there was a wedding or a funeral. I didn't even bury my dad in a suit. It didn't look right. Also, when I previously ran this photo, a good friend from grade school recognized that fire engine red ensemble because, apparently, her brother wore it when I outgrew it. And then, of course, there's this scary photo of an Easter Sunday.
What was my mother thinking with this hat on me? I look like Bing Crosby Junior. Or worse? A character in a reboot of David Lynch's Twin Peaks. Yep, as I look back at Easters past, the memories are scattered and eclectic. Nothing like Christmas. But, then again, isn't the religious connotation for this holiday the complete antithesis of joy and merriment? On the surface, yes. But that's where my pastor's voice comes in loud and clear. It really does promote joy. Got it. Dinner last night: Teriyaki vegetable bowl.
If I were a celebrity, this would be my major endorsement. About two years ago, I was getting my hair cut with my terrific stylist Lisa. As she was looking at the back of my head, I heard an ominous sound. "Uh oh." My nice head of hair was starting to get a little thin in one spot on the back. This was tantamount to being told I could never ever go to a baseball game again. My chin hit my chest. I was devastated. But, wait, Lisa said. She pointed me to the product shown above. Nioxin 3 and the number corresponds to the type of hair I have. Lisa said she heard good things about its ability to re-establish and re-vitalize follicles. The crap is expensive, but there's no price for a bald spot as far as I am concerned. "Follow the directions just as they say on the bottle." And this means you have to take some long showers. Because both the shampoo and the conditioner each have to stay in for three minutes. I may be contributing to the water shortage in Los Angeles, but I want hair back and I want it now. I no longer want to be on that road to a Rudy Guiliani comb over. I followed the procedure dutifully and wash my hair with nothing else. I even add to the process by spraying a little of the Nioxin 3 scalp therapy add-on right after my shower. Well, it takes a while but my visit to Lisa just last week was the perfect testimony. "Wow, Len, you've got all this new hair in the back." So, there. And I couldn't haven't done it without Lisa. Or Nioxin. I guarantee results. But I will not offer your money back if it doesn't work. Dinner last night: Sandwich.
Happy birthday to Marty Allen. Still with us and 94 today. 1540: WALTHAM ABBEY IS SURRENDERED TO KING HENRY VIII OF ENGLAND, THE LAST RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY TO BE CLOSED DURING THE DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. Who cares?? Downton Abbey is over. 1708: JAMES FRANCIS EDWARD STUART LANDS AT THE FIRTH OF FORTH. Say that five times fast. 1775: AMERICAN REVOLUTION - PATRICK HENRY DELIVERS HIS "GIVE ME LIBERTY" SPEECH IN VIRGINIA. ....or give me death. 1801: TSAR PAUL I OF RUSSIA IS STRUCK WITH A SWORD, THEN STRANGLED, AND FINALLY TRAMPLED TO DEATH INSIDE HIS BEDROOM. Sucks to be him. And just how many people could he get into his bedroom??? 1806: AFTER TRAVELING THROUGH THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE AND REACHING THE PACIFIC OCEAN, EXPLORERS LEWIS AND CLARK BEGIN THEIR JOURNEY HOME. Their "Hold Mail" was expiring. 1857: ELISHA OTIS' FIRST ELEVATOR IS INSTALLED AT 488 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY. Hopefully it's been upgraded since then. 1868: THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA IS FOUNDED IN OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA WHEN THE ORGANIC ACT IS SIGNED INTO LAW. At a Whole Foods, no doubt. 1888: IN ENGLAND, THE FOOTBALL LEAGUE, THE WORLD'S OLDEST PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE, MEETS FOR THE FIRST TIME. Okay, it's not football like you think. 1909: TEDDY ROOSEVELT LEAVES NEW YORK FOR A POST-PRESIDENCY SAFARI IN AFRICA. There'll be some rough riding there, too. 1919: IN MILAN, ITALY, BENITO MUSSOLINI FOUNDS HIS FASCIST POLITICAL MOVEMENT. Bad sign # 1. 1922: COMIC MARTY ALLEN IS BORN. Hello dere. 1933: THE REICHSTAG PASSES THE ENABLING ACT OF 1933, MAKING ADOLF HITLER DICTATOR OF GERMANY. Bad sign # 2. 1942: WORLD WAR II - IN THE INDIAN OCEAN, JAPANESE FORCES CAPTURE THE ANDAMAN ISLANDS. Google Maps, please. 1953: SINGER CHAKA KHAN IS BORN. I once saw her so drunk at an industry party that they nailed her dress to the wall so she could stand up. 1956: PAKISTAN BECOMES THE FIRST ISLAMIC REPUBLIC IN THE WORLD. Bad sign # 3. 1958: ACTOR HUGH GRANT IS BORN. Attention to all hookers on Sunset Boulevard. 1964: ACTOR PETER LORRE DIES. Boy, was he creepy looking..... 1965: NASA LAUNCHES GEMINI 3, THE FIRST US TWO-MAN SPACE FLIGHT WITH GUS GRISSOM AND JOHN YOUNG ABOARD. Spoiler alert: Gus Grissom doesn't last much longer. 1966: MY GRANDFATHER DIES. One day after his birthday. 1977: THE FIRST OF THE NIXON-FROST INTERVIEWS ARE TAPED. Good movie version by Ron Howard. 1983: PRESIDENT RONALD REAGAN MAKES HIS INITIAL PROPOSAL TO DEVELOP TECHNOLOGY TO INTERCEPT ENEMY MISSILES. I bet it was Nancy's idea. 2001: THE RUSSIAN MIR STATION IS DISPOSED OF, BREAKING UP IN THE ATMOSPHERE BEFORE FALLING TO THE EARTH NEAR FIJI. Litterbugs. 2011: ACTRESS ELIZABETH TAYLOR DIES. Yet, her damn perfume commercials are still on the air. Dinner last night: Leftover sausage and peppers.
If you're like me, you may have gone to see "The Lady in the Van" because you expected to be amused by some more comical banter from Maggie Smith. I mean, that's what you've been getting from her via six seasons worth of "Downton Abbey." Well, that's not what you get from this movie. Indeed, what you wind up with is a long nap. If you must see the film, make sure you do so in a theater with very comfortable seats and head rests. You will need it. To say that "The Lady in the Van" is dull would be an understatement. So little comes out of this story that you think it's an offshoot of one of the Presidential debates. And, frankly, those provide more laughs. This tale, which the prologue says is a "mostly true story," is so sleep-inducing that it should have been produced by Ambien Films. Maggie Smith plays this old homeless woman who drives up and down a London neighborhood in a beat-up van. Much to the disdain of the people who live there, she chooses a home to park in front of until those neighbors insist she move on. She winds up nestled in the driveway of Alan Bennett, the writer who eventually wrote the story this is based on. Bennett's a little bit of a nut himself as he talks to himself throughout the film. And plays a dual role of his conscience. Uh huh. Think a psychological extension of Hayley Mills' work in "The Parent Trap." If only "The Lady in the Van" offered as much mirth as that Disney movie. Maggie is downright cranky and mean and, oh, yeah, she apparently smells from some very infrequent bathroom visits. Apparently, her character was once an accomplished pianist, but you don't get enough back story to care. All you do get are some endless conversations and arguments between Maggie and Alex Jennings as Bennett. The same note is hit repeatedly. It's the cinematic version of counting sheeps. By the fifth note, your chin has hit your chest and your popcorn falls to the floor. As much as I love Maggie Smith, she gets little chance to shine here. All she does is complain and whine and grouse. Who needs that? Just find your crankiest old relative on Thanksgiving Day and turn them loose. You don't need this film to have that experience. I could write more about how thoroughly disappointed I was by "The Lady in the Van." But, if I did, I would simply be saying the same thing over and over and over. Hey, just like this movie... LEN'S RATING: One-half star. Dinner last night: Chinese chicken salad.
This month is the ninth anniversary of this blog and we call back some of the laugh gems from the past. Hiccup. Dinner last night: Sausage and peppers....first meal cooked in the new place.
Over the years, I've heard about some really nifty class trips taken by the kids of my friends. Washington DC, Canada, Europe. Me? I went to Manhattan. Twice. On two of the perhaps most miscalculated excursions for seventh or eighth graders. I had a music teacher, Mr. Ferraro, who liked to indoctrinate us all in the various forms of musical presentations. At Christmas time, we dug into "Amahl and the Night Visitors" for a while. And, for some reason, he loved to get us wrapped up with Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals. Remembering now a little bit more about Mr. Ferraro, I probably should not have been surprised by that. And then he tried to bring us into the world of opera. He got us a special deal to go down to the Metropolitan Opera in Lincoln Center for a Wednesday matinee performance of Mozart's "The Magic Flute." For weeks before, we took entire classes to listen to the music and read the libretto. Every nuance of the story was studied and digested. God help us, we were going to get cultured. Except Mr. Ferraro had goofed. He had acted so quickly on that great deal of tickets he had neglected to note that this afternoon's performance of "The Magic Flute" would be done in German. "Die Zauberflote." Huh???? All the English libretto advance work went up in flames as the first word was sung by somebody who might as well have been reading us "Mein Kampf." The scene in our balcony turned ugly very quickly. Bic pens were hallowed out to be used for spitballs. Mr. Ferraro got the brunt of the spit-laden wads. Never before had Lincoln Center been the scene of such a battle. Three hours of singing the word "schnitzel" over and over seemed longer and more deadly than the Battle of the Bulge. My class trip two years later wouldn't be much better. It was English class taught by Miss Dennis, a nasty bit of business who also loved to cram some Broadway dramas down our windpipes. Remembering now a little bit more about Miss Dennis, I also should not have been surprised. Nevertheless, she wanted to bring us to the "theatrah" and did so by scoring a great deal on tickets to a Wednesday matinee performance of Joseph Heller's "We Bombed in New Haven" and it bombed in New York as well. This would be my first ever Broadway show. It is miraculous that it was not my last. Perhaps this was a play that Miss Dennis desperately wanted to see. Because, had she done a little homework, she would have realized that this was not one suited for a bunch of thirteen-year-olds who were still being challenged by last night's episode of "I Dream of Jeannie." I think this was an anti-war piece. Or existential? Or about saving an endangered mule? We had no clue. This thing was so far over our heads, most of us wound up in catatonic states high up in the balcony of the Ambassador Theater. With Bic pens not available, we resorted to another teen-age pastime: snoring. I've done some research and I see that this play starred Jason Robards Jr., Diana Sands, and Ron Liebman. Unless they were appearing on the back of my eyelids that afternoon, I never saw any of them. The yellow school bus never looked more inviting than on the trip home from these two disasters. Dinner last night: Orange beef from Panda Express.
Damn. What fun this might have been. The very first "disaster" movie playing in 70 MM for Easter at the famed Radio City Music Hall. "Airport" is one of my favorite guilty pleasures of a film. Totally cheesy, but always worth two plus hours of your time. What probably isn't worth five minutes plus of your time is the fare at your local cineplex this weekend. Disaster movies, to be sure, but not in the same way. You know the drill, gang. I will sift through the LA Times movie pages and give you my knee-jerk reaction to what's playing this weekend. I trust you that none of the films will give you as much entertainment as when Dean Martin tries to talk Van Heflin out of...wait, you've never seen "Airport?" No spoilers here. The Divergent Series - Allegiant: Sounds like something you take for your sinuses. Son of Saul: Won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film. It's about the Holocaust. Of course, it did. Hail, Caesar: Blog review coming. Spoiler alert: avoid. The Lady in the Van: Blog review coming. Be careful where you park. Eddie the Eagle: Britain's first-ever Winter Olympic skier. And that's interesting why? Deadpool: Dead in the water as far as I'm concerned. The Brothers Grimsby: Roger? Hello, My Name is Doris: Sally Field as a daffy senior citizen. Typecast. Eye in the Sky: Will see it primarily because it's Alan Rickman's last film. Knight of Cups: Terence Malick tells a story about Los Angeles. Probably great photography that will lull you to sleep. London Has Fallen: Well, Downton Abbey is gone, so why not? Me Him Her: That leaves I out. The Young Messiah: No, this isn't a documentary about Obama. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot: I hear this is another clinically unfunny Tina Fey movie. Where to Invade Next: More dribble about Michael Moore. Just move already, Michael. 10 Cloverfield Lane: A sort-of sequel to Cloverfield. That one had people vomiting in the lobby. The Perfect Match: Is one that starts a fire. Basically, I've got nothing else to say about this one.
Triple 9: Crooked cops. Executive producer: Al Sharpton? Miracles from Heaven: Jennifer Garner stars and I guess one of them is her divorce from that lunkhead. Bleak Street: Two prostitutes kill dwarf brothers. Seriously, that's the logline. The Little Prince: Didn't I do a book report on this for French class a hundred years ago? The Dog Wedding: That's what happens when dogs get lawyers. The Program: A biopic about Lance Armstrong. Spoiler alert: drugs are involved. Remember: Christopher Plummer and Martin Landau as Holocaust survivors looking for revenge on a Nazi prison guard. Forget. The Witch: It ain't Elizabeth Montgomery. Only Yesterday: Japanese animation. You've been warned. Room: See it for Brie Larson's Oscar winning performance. Spotlight: I told you this was going to win Best Picture. Embrace of the Serpent: Sixty years ago, this would have starred Lana Turner. The Big Short: See it for the Oscar winning screenplay. Creative Control: What I have on this blog. Barney Thomson: A barber in Glasgow is suspected of being a serial killer. Um, Sweeney Todd? Pee Wee's Big Holiday: Guess who? Midnight Special: It's either about a gun or an old music TV show. The Bronze: A washed-up gymnast. Written by the star Melissa Rauch, Bernadette from The Big Bang Theory. Burning Bodhi: A group of high school alumni reunite after one dies. Um, The Big Chill? It stars Kaley Cuoco, so obviously those actors got work during the last hiatus. Risen: Joseph Fiennes as Jesus. Just in time for Palm Sunday. The Revenant: Blog review coming. A mild surprise for me. Race: Jesse Owens vs. Adolf Hitler. What's the undercard? Dinner last night: Chopped steak and roasted vegetables.
When "Hail Caesar!" first opened a few weeks back, I had five friends report on Facebook that this was one of the worst movies they had ever seen. Okay, I am good with those money saving reviews. But, then, my pastor saw it and told me it was great. She even went as far as saying that I would absolutely love this satire on 1950s Hollywood. Okay, I went the religion route. And now I have another dilemma. How can the woman I call my spiritual leader be so wrong about what I would like or dislike? Yep, "Hail Caesar!" is that bad. And one more validation that Joel and Ethan Coen just might be the most overrated filmmakers in Hollywood. In all seriousness, I look back and think that "Fargo" was really the only other movie that I liked. And this one should have been great. I mean, the subject matter is ripe for comedy. Eddie Mannix was a real studio guy back when and he was entrusted in keeping his stars out of trouble. This story is loosely based on a day in his life at the fictitious Capitol Studios. Indeed, everything here is loosely based. And loosely written. There's a loosely based version of Charlton Heston starring in a loosely based version of "Ben-Hur" and that role is played with a ham glaze by George Clooney. There is a loosely based Esther Williams, a loosely based Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper, a loosely based Gene Kelly, and a loosely based bunch of Hollywood Communists. You get the loosely based picture> Oh sure, the film is stylishly filmed. But, somewhere the Coen brothers forgot to put any humor or feeling into the script. You ping pong from one story to another and you get zero investment in anything on the screen. This is essentially a SNL sketch that has gone horribly wrong. And, let's face it, most SNL sketches go horribly wrong all by themselves. In the cast are the likes of Josh Brolin, Tilda Swinton, Ralph Fiennes, Scarlet Johansson, Channing Tatum, and Frances McDormand. Tons of star power, for sure. And it all goes terribly to waste as the film misfires more often than a jitney on the back roads of Mexico. "Hail Caesar" is one of those movies that is so disappointing that you want to immediately block it from your memory. No, I really didn't see it. Then you go to church the following Sunday and have to explain it all to your pastor who really needs to get to know me better. LEN'S RATING: One half star. Dinner last night: First night in the new apartment with the great new kitchen...I went to McDonald's!
Happy birthday, Jerry Lewis. I had to extend the margins of this blog in order to get his head to fit here. 597 BC: BABYLONIANS CAPTURE JERUSALEM, AND REPLACE JECONIAH WITH ZEDEKIAH AS KING. Notify the gift shop. We need Zedekiah t-shirts. 455: EMPEROR VALENTINIAN III IS ASSASSINATED BY TWO HUNNIC RETAINERS. What the hell is a Hunnic retainer? Anybody? 934: MENG ZHIXIANG DECLARES HIMSELF EMPEROR AND ESTABLISHES LATER SHU AS A NEW STATE INDEPENDENT OF LATER TANG. Later for you. 1190: MASSACRE OF JEWS AT CLIFFORD'S TOWER, YORK. Just in case you thought this started with Hitler. 1621: SAMOSET, A MOHEGAN, VISITED THE SETTLERS OF PLYMOUTH COLONY AND GREETS THEM "WELCOME, ENGLISHMEN. MY NAME IS SAMOSET." Big deal. When's lunch? 1660: THE LONG PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND IS DISSOLVED SO AS TO PREPARE FOR THE NEW CONVENTION PARLIAMENT. Dissolved. Like an Alka Seltzer tablet. 1802: THE ARMY CORPS OF ENGINEERS IS ESTABLISHED TO FOUND AND OPERATE THE US MILITARY ACADEMY AT WEST POINT. Good. Now Navy has somebody to play in football. 1861: EDWARD CLARK BECOMES GOVERNOR OF TEXAS, REPLACING SAM HOUSTON, WHO HAS BEEN EVICTED FROM THE OFFICE FOR REFUSING TO TAKE AN OATH OF LOYALTY TO THE CONFEDERACY. Is it me or does the office of Texas Governor always seem to be in the news? 1870: THE FIRST VERSION OF THE OVERTURE FANTASY "ROMEO AND JULIET" BY TCHAIKOVSKY RECEIVES ITS PREMIERE PERFORMANCE. Spoiler alert: they both die at the end. 1906: COMIC HENNY YOUNGMAN IS BORN. I solved the parking problem in NYC. I bought a parked car. 1912: FIRST PAT NIXON IS BORN. I've got nothing to say about her, so I'll just do another Youngman joke. I just came back from a pleasure trip. I took my mother-in-law to the airport. 1916: THE 7TH AND 10TH US CAVALRY REGIMENTS UNDER JOHN J. PERSHING CROSS THE US-MEXICO BORDER TO JOIN THE HUNT FOR PANCHO VILLA. Please open your car trunk. 1926: ACTOR JERRY LEWIS IS BORN. That makes him 90 if my math is correct. 1935: ADOLF HITLER ORDERS GERMANY TO REARM HERSELF IN VIOLATION OF THE TREATY OF VERSAILLES. You vill do it! 1942: THE FIRST V-S ROCKET TEST LAUNCH. IT EXPLODED AT LIFTOFF. Bang, I should have had a V-8. 1945: WORLD WAR II - THE BATTLE OF IWO JIMA ENDED. Hence the statue. 1958: THE FORD MOTOR COMPANY PRODUCES ITS 50 MILLIONTH AUTOMOBILE, THE THUNDERBIRD. Bluebook value, please? 1966: LAUNCH OF GEMINI 8, THE 12TH MANNED AMERICAN SPACE FLIGHT. There are still some nuts out there who think all the space explorations we did were faked on a Hollywood soundstage. 1968: VIETNAM WAR - IN THE MY LAI MASSACRE, ALMOST 500 VIETNAMESE VILLAGERS ARE KILLED BY AMERICAN TROOPS. This country has had better days than this one. 1968: GENERAL MOTORS PRODUCES ITS 100 MILLIONTH AUTOMOBILE, THE OLDSMOBILE TORONADO. Don't bother with the Bluebook value on this one. 1971: POLITICIAN THOMAS E. DEWEY DIES. He loses...again. 1978: FORMER ITALIAN PRIME MINISTER ALDO MORO IS KIDNAPPED AND LATER KILLED BY HIS CAPTORS. All the more-o. 1983: TV STAR ARTHUR GODFREY DIES. I have had heard lots of bad things about this guy. And I don't even know Julius LaRosa. 1985: AP NEWSMAN TERRY ANDERSON IS TAKEN HOSTAGE IN BEIRUT. HE IS RELEASED IN 1991. Six years. I hope he didn't have anything at the dry cleaners. 1988: IRAN-CONTRA AFFAIR - LT. COLONEL OLIVER NORTH AND VICE ADMIRAL JOHN POINDEXTER ARE INDICTED ON CHARGES OF CONSPIRACY TO DEFRAUD THE UNITED STATES. Guilty! 1991: MUSICIAN WOLFGANG VAN HALEN IS BORN. Yeah, I know who his mother is. 1995: MISSISSIPPI FORMALLY RATIFIES THE THIRTEENTH AMENDMENT, BECOMING THE LAST STATE TO APPROVE THE ABOLITION OF SLAVERY. Talk about coming to the party late. 2008: ACTOR IVAN DIXON DIES. FYI, I never liked "Hogan's Heroes." Dinner last night: Japanese noodles.
