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.

Pokémon Detective Pikachu

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Rating: Soggy.

Rating: Soggy.

I can count the times

I’ve walked out of a movie

On just one finger.

There are two types of people in the world: those who see Pokémon Detective Pikachu in theaters and those who are cowards.

Hold up. There are actually three types of people: those who stay far away from Detective Pikachu, those who see it in theaters, and those who see it in theaters but walk out before it’s over. I am the latter, and for the first time ever, I join the ranks of movie-walker-outers before me. Like my friend Daniel’s dad, Keith, who walked out of Slumdog Millionaire the year it won Best Picture. Yep, I’m on the same level as Keith now.

To be fair, I don’t think Detective Pikachu was so bad that it necessitated our early departure. It was more circumstantial. You see, Daniel and I caught a matinee showing, which contributed to two things: Daniel’s exhaustion and my starvation. He could barely keep his eyes open during the movie’s second act, and when I left for the bathroom with ~30 minutes still to go, I couldn’t ignore my Chipotle hunger pains any longer. So when I returned, it didn’t take much convincing to get Daniel out of his seat. And with that, we bailed. But how did we get to this moment?

Detective Pikachu started out strong, it really did. Seeing a world unfold where humans and Pokémon live together in harmony is every eight-year-olds’ wet dream, though it did play a little bit like a Zootopia knockoff. And the first 30 minutes are pretty funny, with Pikachu entering Ted-lite territory and Ryan Reynolds capitalizing on his Deadpool goodwill. But after its first act, Pikachu stumbles hard. Once the shock of Pokémon commingling with humans wears off, Pikachu fails to offer much else. Sometimes nostalgia can carry a movie for its full 90 minutes, but that’s not the case here. Probably because it’s funniest moments occur both in the first 30 minutes of the movie, as well as all the previews. Plus, the plot is convoluted and extremely heavy-handed. I guess it hits more beats than anyone would expect from a live-action Pokémon movie in 2019, but they could have had a little more fun. As if centering the story on a deadbeat dad gone missing isn’t enough, they have to go and kill Pikachu as well (spoiler, sorry). I literally went to the bathroom for two minutes, and when I came back Pikachu was dead. I couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of the situation, and that’s when Daniel and I knew it was time to bail.

So now, I pose this question: Is it fair to assign a rating to a movie if I didn’t stay until the ending? I don’t think so, but I’m going to anyway. If it had been better, maybe we would have given a shit about its ending. But as it stands, I don’t care what happens to that kid’s dad or Mewto. All I’ve got left to say is that there really should be a colon in the film’s title. Figure it out, Warner Bros.  

In Theaters, SoggyGuest User