danny rosenberg
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.

The Wife

Rating: Crispy.

Rating: Crispy.

Rarely do I

Like a movie this much just

To hate its ending

Before I dive in to my review of “The Wife,” I’d like to make a formal apology to Movie Pass. I cursed its great name in my “Mission: Impossible” review, but I owe a lot to Movie Pass. It got me through awards season, allowed me to see movies I otherwise wouldn’t have in theaters (or probably at all) and it’s been my lifeline to the opposite of loneliness whenever a Friday or Saturday night would roll around and I didn’t have plans this summer. So while it’s on life support and things are looking grim, I just wanted to say thank you to Movie Pass while it’s still alive. So thank you, Movie Pass. You got me through some hard times, and now I want you to know that I’ll be staying with you for yours.

When my plans for the day got canceled yesterday, I immediately hopped on Movie Pass to see what was playing at my favorite indie theater out here, the Landmark Embarcadero. I’m not sure why I picked “The Wife,” but I think I was drawn to it because it reminded me of something I would see with my Bubby and Pop at their Landmark theater in St. Louis. The crowd certainly reminded me of them. The theater was nearly full, and I was easily the youngest in the theater by at least 20 years, and I’m quite confident that I’m the only 22-year-old in the world who will go to see “The Wife” by himself during its theatrical run.

[I also think that some of my reviews have begun to read like diary entries thanks to all the David Sedaris essays I’ve been reading lately.]

Everything you’ve heard about Cruella de Vil’s, er, Glenn Close’s, performance is true. As the title suggests, she is the movie. She is a real tour de force (I always loved seeing that phrase on the backs of my DVD cases), and there’s no other way to describe her performance as the partner of a Nobel Prize-winning novelist with some secrets of her own. Body language and other forms of nonverbal communication are key here – the way the camera lingers on Close’s face or follows her gaze, for example, are often more telling than the words coming out of her mouth. The plot is a bit contrived and the Big Reveal far from that revealing, but “The Wife” really excels as a character study. My dad once insulted my moviegoing intelligence by telling me that I didn’t like “The Darkest Hour” because it was too talky, but the amount that I enjoyed “The Wife” would suggest otherwise. The Wife is talky, yes, and probably the most adult movie I’ve seen since 45 Years (which I did actually see with my Bubby and Pop, so there you go), but I enjoyed it nevertheless. Until its ending.

I really was hooked on everything about “The Wife” until the last 10 minutes of the movie. If I thought the rest of the plot was a little contrived, then the ending blows my other pain points out of the water. It felt like a cop out, and completely took me out of a movie that otherwise felt mostly true-to-life. I was fully prepared to give “The Wife” a glowing Perfectly Toasted review, but the ending bumped it to a Crispy. I’m still interested to see if Close will get any love come awards season, but I like the endings of her movies better when she's playing opposite a certain spotted couple named Pongo and Perdita.

In Theaters, CrispyGuest User