Like many of you, I hang with a group of friends who watch movies and then argue in a bar afterwards. And like many of you, all of my friends are “visionaries”.
Over beers, one of my friends said “We should record this”…but whereas the rest of us sobered up, he kept pushing this idea, adding a 360-degree camera to the alcoholic mix.
Watch two goofballs and a guest (balled, bald or otherwise) talk about the latest releases from Hollywood and Netflix while drinking to excess on a limited budget (we are nothing, if not Canadian).
This week–ably assisted by documentarian Liza Vespi–our thoughts on:
Ron Howard’s Inferno
Man vs Snake (on Netflix)
Our thanks to Ginger & Russ for hosting us at The Edmund Burke in Toronto.
Rarely am I stumped by a movie. Usually, I like the film, it is okay or it is bad.
But every now and again, a movie makes me work at an opinion. David Ayer’s Fury is one of those films, the 2014 film being released this week on Netflix.
Starring Brad Pitt, Shia LaBeouf and Michael Peña, Fury tells the story of an American tank crew in the last year of World War II, pushing deep into Germany but heavily outgunned by German Tiger tanks.
And there is my challenge with this film. I have now explained the entire movie to you, because there is no real point to the plot.
It is seriously as though a camera crew showed up on a battle site one day and followed a tank crew for a few days as it wound its way through various other battles into the belly of the Nazi beast.
Thus, I cannot really tell if this movie is an amazingly stunning metaphor for the futility of war—there is no glory here—or if it was just a badly penned film.
Ideals clash with reality
To be fair to Ayer, who not only wrote, but also directed and produced this film, there is a human interest side to this story as the war-weary, battle-hardened tank crew is joined by doe-eyed recruit Norman Ellison (Logan Lerman) who just days earlier was a typist for the military bureaucracy.
Thus, as the tank—the titular Fury—lurches from battle to battle, we witness the corruption of a pure heart by atrocities committed not only by the enemy, but by his fellow soldiers. And we see the toll this corruption takes on the boy’s tank commander Don “Wardaddy” Collier (Brad Pitt) who personally starts that downhill process.
But again, to what purpose?
War taints even the most peaceful moments
Almost all war films seem to be based on men fighting toward a higher purpose, whether it is a battle that turns the tide of the war—e.g., Sands of Iwo Jima; Tora, Tora, Tora—or a moment of humanity amidst chaos—e.g., Saving Private Ryan—or men fighting for sanity within that chaos—e.g., Good Morning, Vietnam; Catch 22; Apocalypse, Now.
For me, Fury had no such pretense.
Yes, the Americans are the “good” guys and the Germans were the “bad” guys, but neither side in this film was any nobler than its counterpart. Within the confines of this movie, this was carnage and hatred purely for the sake of same.
As to the film itself; all of the actors did an admirable job, wearing the carnage of war on their faces and in their souls. Brad Pitt at his harshest expressed an internal dignity if not nobility. Shia LaBeouf was restrained. And Michael Peña really didn’t have much to do.
Truthfully, this film might have been stronger as a silent movie, as it was the facial expressions and battle scenes that told this story. The dialogue offered little to the visceral impact of this film (emotions are drained pretty early).
Beautifully shot, this is a grisly film and not for the faint of heart or stomach. Bullets and bombs don’t just pierce a body; they rip it wide open. The fallen remain fallen, to be ground into the mud by jeep tires and tank treads.
For all of these reasons—and it was a slow burn for me—I am coming down on the side of Fury being the embodiment of the ultimate futility and barbarism of war.
In this movie, even if you saved the person of Private Ryan or Ellison, the soul is long gone.
A good choice for Remembrance Day, highlighting purposeless sacrifice
I had an amazing moment earlier today that I wanted to share, a moment of complete peace and sheer bliss.
As I may have mentioned before, I am an amateur photographer and a lover of nature. In wandering along Toronto’s waterfront this morning, I passed some butterfly gardens.
Not my first time visiting these small gardens. I’ve even taken photos there.
But for whatever reason, today was magical because there were dozens of butterflies having the time of their lives flitting from flower to flower.
The movement attracted my eye and I wandered over to the gardens to enjoy the sight and grab a couple of shots with my cell phone. But as I stood there, the world fell completely away, and it was just me, the garden and the butterflies.
And rather than flit away to keep their distance, the butterflies accepted me into the moment, a few even briefly landing on my arms and shoulders.
I had somewhere to be, so the moment couldn’t last too long. I have every confidence, however, that if I had had the time available to me, it would have lasted as long as I chose.
Complete bliss, joy and comfort.
I’ll visit the gardens again. Maybe the moment will happen again; maybe not. But I have available to me this one time that it did, and that will sustain me.
This summer has been unbearably hot and humid in Toronto, but I was going stir-crazy without my weekly walk. So, throwing caution to the (complete lack of) wind, I grabbed my camera and hit the boardwalk and some nearby wooded areas.
A cooling dip interrupted
Too impatient to wait for the blooms to open
The cormorant takes wing (well, two)
Damselfly dares unseen frogs to make a move
Dragons flew in profusion
Light danced on the compound eyes
Viceroy (or is it a Monarch) samples the flowers
The pollinator slowly climbs the stem
Mallard mucks for a meal
My camera prefers to focus on wings, not faces
Red dragons were easy to pick out against the greenery
I have become a massive fan of street art, lately, taking time out of my day to not only see the art that once was hidden behind my mental blinders, but also to truly appreciate the craft that goes into it.
Perhaps, my awareness is simply a component of my desire to slow my life down and spend more time in the moment. All I know is that I now spend as much time looking behind me, while walking the streets of Toronto, as I do looking in front of me (except when crossing roads).
Walking home from my favourite bacon restaurant – Rashers – the other day, I took the time to wander down a single alleyway just off Queen Street West…a SINGLE alleyway…and captured some of the art I found. Enjoy.
Hotel le Roberval centres an eclectic mix of neighbourhoods
Conveniently located within a short walk to Montreal’s Vieux Port, the Village and the restaurants of St. Denis, Hotel Le Roberval offers affordable, clean lodgings for people who like to explore the city on foot or with a quick jump on the Metro (Berri-UQAM).
The rooms are quite spacious and well-maintained, offering a kitchenette space that included a bar fridge, microwave, coffee maker and two sets of dishes. The Queen-sized bed was firm and comfortable, and the television was hi-def. And for those needing to work or wishing to keep in touch via social media, the free WiFi was very reliable and allowed rapid upload of photos to Facebook.
Parking is a bit of a chore, however, as you need to store your car in a shared lot less than a block from the hotel. Unfortunately, you need a room key to access the lot, so you have to check in before you can park. That said, you can leave your car on Rue Berri for up to 15 minutes while checking in.
The free continental breakfast leaves something to be desired. There is no hot food, the entire spread limited to croissants, cellophane-wrapped half-bagels, yoghurt, pastries and a couple of dry cereals, as well as milk, juices and coffee. Like the small dining room itself, however, the buffet is well-maintained and the staff who work the room are attentive to everyone’s needs.
Although the hotel is located on the corner of two busy streets (Boul. Rene-Levesque & Rue Berri), bound by government offices and the Universite du Quebec á Montréal (UQAM), there are several restaurants within a short walking distance (mostly in the Village) and a couple of depanneurs (convenience stores that also sell alcohol) if you just want to relax in your room.
As comfortable and accommodating as Hotel Le Roberval is, the lodgings are really just a place to store your stuff and rest your head as you explore what Montreal has to offer.
Off-site parking can make checking in a chore in bad weather
A profusion of restaurants and art installations are nearby
The Botanical Gardens are a short metro ride away
The beautiful Notre-Dame Basilica is within blocks of the hotel
Ride the metro to the Biodome and see Nature at play
We arrived perfectly to enjoy the annual Jazz Festival
Nestled in the heart of Vieux Quebec, less than a block from the Chateau Frontenac, is the familiar red roof of Aux Anciens Canadiens, an unassuming looking restaurant that specializes in game meats. My recent visit was something of a home-coming for me, as I had crossed its threshold 15 years ago and had been amazed by the food and service.
A meat lover’s paradise, the restaurant has made its reputation on its multitude of dishes involving game ranging from elk and caribou to bison and duck, as well as various seafood offerings. On my latest visit, my friend and I had lunch, which was a $20 table d’hôte. But $20 was really just the starting point, as almost everything we ordered added a few to several dollars to our dining tab.
The menu itself was a single long page, but it was chock full of dishes, many of which were not particularly informative about the content of the meal and required questions of our pleasant but harried server.
As it was the Canada Day long weekend, the restaurant was packed and without reservations, it took about half an hour before they could seat us. That being said, the restaurant did its best to get our orders in and food out very quickly. Reservations are recommended.
I started with the escargot. The flesh was pleasantly cooked, offering resistance without being chewy or rubbery. Unfortunately, the flavour of the dish was largely overwhelmed by the cheese, which although not heavily applied was strong and distracting. I wanted garlic butter and instead was met with salt.
Sloppy presentation and the cheese overpowered the garlic butter
My main course was the Trapper’s Treat, comprising Lac St.-Jean tourtiere and bison stew. This was why I had returned and it did not disappoint. The tourtiere was insanely flavourful, the tastes and textures of the different meats mingling beautifully with the spices and vegetables to create an unforgettable experience.
And the stew reminded me of the amazing stews my grandmother made; the vegetables firm, the bison chunks tender. Interestingly, the bison tasted distinctly like beef in this dish, which surprised me a little as I expected something a bit more distinct.
Lac St.-Jean tourtiere and bison stew with homemade ketchup (like a salsa)
My friend let me sample her main course, which was bison cooked Bourguignon style with a creamy blueberry wine sauce. The blueberries intrigued me, and did not disappoint, not being initially apparent but making a sudden appearance at the finish.
For dessert, both of us had the chocolate pie with white chocolate cream, a very sweet combination that definitely needed the long espresso as a change-up. I admit that I was expecting the pie filling to be more of a mousse and so was surprised when it ended up being more fudge-like in consistency, making it a very heavy dessert. The best part was actually the cream that nicely contrasted with the tartness of the few garnishing strawberry slices.
Heavy (fudge-like) chocolate pie with white chocolate cream
Aux Anciens Canadiens is not a beer-lover’s paradise, however, as the selection was limited to a blanche and an amber. And although the wine menu appeared extensive, only two wines were sold by the glass: a Chardonnay and a Pinot that my friend suggested was not particularly good. All other wines were sold only by the bottle.
As mentioned earlier, service was pleasant and accommodating, but the crush of patrons seemed to have caught the restaurant by surprise, putting the servers on a constant run that made it sometimes difficult to get questions answered.
Sadly, this experience didn’t quite live up to my memories of my earlier one. Perhaps it was the crush of the long weekend. Perhaps it was simply that lunch service doesn’t match up to dinner service. Either way, it feels like the restaurant needs to up its game to compete with other game restaurants in the area, such as Le Hobbit Bistro just outside of Vieux Quebec’s walls.
Deciding that we had had enough of Vieux Quebec, my friend and I decided to look outside the walls of the fort and check out the eclectic neighbourhood that ran along Rue Saint-Jean. Within blocks of the bus depot, we came across Hobbit Bistro, a busy little joint that seemed to specialize in game meats.
Abuzz with activity, we were immediately met by one of the servers who, despite our lack of a reservation, found us a nice little table in the corner, from which we could observe the flurry of activity around us. The décor of the room was as eclectic as the street outside, with a goat head hanging off one wall across from a large central table that appeared to have been hewn as one piece from a sequoia. We also overlooked the amazing bar, overseen by multicoloured bottles of all shapes and sizes.
The staff was quick, both of foot and of tongue, sharing barbs and quips with great alacrity and charm, and ensuring that we were quite happy and satisfied. This became especially important, as we soon realized that checking into Hobbit for dinner was a long-term engagement; while everything and everyone else rushed around, the food itself did not.
For an appetizer, my friend and I shared braised bison cheek bathed in a reduction of its cooking juices and blanketed with fricasseed Brussel sprout leaves and a mushroom salad that seemed to include enoki and alfalfa sprouts. Tender is not the word to describe the meat; fragile is more accurate. And the raspberry vinaigrette of the salad nicely cut through the salt and fat of the meat reduction, laying flavour on top of flavour. My only regret was we didn’t ask for more bread to sop up the delicious sauce.
Braised bison cheek with mushroom salad
As a main course—which took longer than my stomach and taste buds would have liked—was elk flank steak spiced with juniper and mustard on a salsify puree and partnered with tarte flambée, carrot and a half bok choy, all under a demi-glace of cacao nibs. Again, the meat was incredibly delicate and wonderfully juicy and rich, while the salsify (think parsnip) had a buttery texture with a nutty finish. I was unfamiliar with tarte flambée but eventually guessed correctly that it was like a pan-fried slice of bread covered in onions and white cheese. This made for an interesting combination of crisp texture, salty tang and sweetness. The only negative to the main was the two vegetables, which we overcooked and quite soft.
Trying to pick only one dessert was practically impossible as everything sounded wonderful. Eventually, I settled on a lemon curd, honey and yoghurt mousse over pistachio cream with chocolate biscuits and a few meringues. Only the chocolate biscuit could be described as very sweet, the mousse and cream offering a beautifully creamy blend that teased the taste buds as the flavours evolved. The meringues were a decorative throw-away in my book and could easily be dispensed with.
Lemon curd mousse on chocolate cookie with pistachio cream
Despite the slowness of each course of the meal, the lively energy and yet intimate feel of the restaurant ensured guests remained comfortable. And it is clear the staff like working there as one server even remembered another guest who had last been to the restaurant several months back, recalling what the guest had ordered.
The restaurant almost seems too welcoming and accepting to be called fine dining, but the price tag would suggest that is exactly what it is. And the food is more than ample proof that this is dining at its finest. A definite must-visit for anyone checking out Quebec City.
Mother, Nehiyaw, Metis, & Itisahwâkan - career communicator. This is my collection of opinions, stories, and the occasional rise to, or fall from, challenge. In other words, it's my party, I can fun if I want to. Artwork by aaronpaquette.net
Nestled in the heart of Vieux Quebec, less than a block from the Chateau Frontenac, is the familiar red roof of 
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