sr. copywriter

Soggy Waffles

Welcome to Soggy Waffles. Here’s how these bite-size, digestible movie reviews work. Every movie gets a haiku. That’s one movie, 17 syllables. Every movie gets a short write-up. I’m talking so short that you should be able to completely syrupize a plate of waffles in the time it takes to read the write-up. If not, then I’m not doing my job. This is my take on the movies I see, not a chewed up and spit out version of anything you’ll find online.

 And finally, every movie gets a Soggy Waffles rating. The scale is as follows:

1 = The Frozen Waffle. The type of waffle that you can still taste the freezer burn when you bite into it. That bite was so traumatizing that you it might be awhile before you can safely bite into another.

 2 = The Soggy Waffle. You don’t need a pick-axe or other climbing gear to attack this waffle, but the pneumonic device you learned in elementary school to memorize the cardinal directions still applies: Never Eat Soggy Waffles.

3 = The Microwaved Waffle. This is the type of waffle that won’t stick with you for the rest of your life, but damn you enjoyed it nonetheless. Not every movie can be a Superbad.

 4 = The Crispy Waffle. Oh yeah, it’s not the best waffle you’ve ever had, but it’s pretty close. This is the type of movie that cracks into your End-of-Year best list, but doesn’t quite make it onto your Best of All Time.

5 = The Toasty Waffle. This is that from-scratch, special recipe, best-you’ve-ever had waffle. The kind in which the waffle is so good that the act of adding chocolate chips, butter or even syrup would be sacrilegious. You can never eat it for the first time twice, so savor it when you’ve got it.

Logo and illustrations by Adrienne Luther.

Logo and illustrations by Adrienne Luther.

Welcome to Soggy Waffles Reviews. Here’s how these bite-size, digestible movie reviews work. Every movie gets a haiku. That’s one movie, 17 syllables. Every movie gets a short write-up. I’m talking so short that you should be able to completely syrupize a plate of waffles in the time it takes to read the review. If not, then I’m not doing my job. This is my take on the movies I see, not a chewed up and spit out version of anything you’ll find online. And finally, every movie gets a Soggy Waffles rating. The scale is as follows:

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-08.png

1. The Frozen Waffle

The type of waffle that you can still taste the freezer burn when you bite into it. The whole experience is so traumatizing that it might be awhile before you can safely bite into another.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-07.png

2. The Soggy Waffle

You don’t need a pick-axe or other climbing gear to attack this waffle, but the pneumonic device you learned in elementary school to memorize the cardinal directions still applies: Never Eat Soggy Waffles.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-03.png

3. The Microwaved Waffle

This is the type of waffle that won’t stick with you for the rest of your life, but damn you enjoyed it nonetheless. Not every movie can be a Superbad.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-02.png

4. The Crispy Waffle

Oh yeah, it’s not the best waffle you’ve ever had, but it’s pretty close. This rating is reserved for the movise that crack into your End-of-Year best lists but don't quite make it onto your Best of All Time.

Soggy_Waffles_Draft-01.png

5. The Perfectly Toasted Waffle

This is that from-scratch, special recipe, best-you’ve-ever had waffle. The kind in which the waffle is so good that the act of adding chocolate chips, butter or even syrup would be sacrilegious (but obviously you still do). You can never eat it for the first time twice, so savor it when you’ve got it.

Sorry To Bother You

Rating: Crispy.

Rating: Crispy.

Hi Lakeith Stanfield,

And hi Tessa Thompson too,

My new fave actors.

I am afraid. Very afraid. I’m afraid that Lakeith Stanfield is so good at playing the unassuming, well-meaning stoner that he’s going to be typecast as this type of character for the rest of his life, his acting range DOA a la Zach Galifianakis after "The Hangover" or Melissa McCarthy post-"Bridesmaids." By following his breakout in “Atlanta” with a feature role that never strays too far from Darius’s mythos, I’d say there’s a decent chance of that happening. And maybe he’s fine with that. At least Stanfield is damn funny, and so is “Sorry To Bother You.”

When I first watched the trailer for STBY, I was afraid the movie would rely too heavily on the (nonetheless hilarious) one-joke premise of a black man using his “white voice” to find success as a telemarketer, but I’m happy to share that the movie goes to places far beyond where I ever expected it to go. It’s inventive to the nth degree, and so many times throughout the movie I kept asking myself, “How did this movie get made?” So kudos to Boots Riley for doing that.

While it definitely dragged at points, “Sorry To Bother You” felt like one of the freshest summer releases I’ve seen since 2016’s “The Lobster.” It kind of reminded me of “Colossal,” except that’s a bad comparison because I loved STBY and strongly disliked “Colossal.” STBY will definitely provide for a polarizing moviegoing experience, but if you love satire and anything-goes surrealism, and oh yeah, hate capitalism, you’ll feel right at home in this audience.