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.

Long Shot

sc-mov-long-shot-charlize-theron-movie-review-0501-20190501.jpg
Rating: Crispy.

Rating: Crispy.

If Seth Rogen could

Just star in every movie.

That would be just fine.

Is Seth Rogen considered a national treasure by the rest of America in the same way he is by the Jews? I can’t imagine that being the case. He is as important to our culture as The Chanukah Song was in the 90s, as latkes and applesauce, as Chinese on New Year’s Eve. Not since the invention of Kosher-for-Passover marble cake has an entity united Jews of all generations in our love for something so strongly. I love Seth Rogen, my mom and my best friend’s mom loves Seth Rogen; shit, my grandma loves Seth Rogen. He is a cultural icon whose signature is his throaty stoner laugh and well-to-do disposition, but uses his star power to effect real change all the same. It obviously goes without saying that we must protect him at all costs.

But I digress. This is not a think piece on Seth Rogen’s cultural impact on Jewish teens who came of age in the 21st century, as much as I’d like it to be. This is a review of “Long Shot,” the romantic comedy starring Rogen opposite Charlize Theron as a stoner journalist who falls for the Secretary of State once she employs him as her speechwriter. Theron’s Charlotte Field is always thinking five steps ahead and willing to make ethical sacrifices when she has to, where Rogen’s Fred Flarsky is the stoner with a hippie agenda, who is simultaneously unwavering in his morals but also has a penchant for incorporating the word “fuck” into his work in the same way that I currently have a penchant for incorporating the word “penchant.”  It’s the tale as old as time, and the writers don’t exactly attempt to reinvent the wheel here – but they do have a lot of vulgar fucking fun doing it. It’s not the political rom-com we asked for, but it’s exactly the political rom-com we need in 2019.

Now, “Long Shot” isn’t as gut busting as “This is the End” or “Superbad,” but it’s got the heart of “Knocked Up” the replay value of “Neighbors” and a drug trip worthy of “The Night Before.” More jokes land than the ones that don’t, but I wish there had been more political gags like “The Hall of First Ladies” sequence at the end of the film that has Rogen’s character take us through The Hall of First Ladies Jackie-Kennedy-style. I also couldn’t shake the feeling that everything they were doing has been done better by the Veep team, but that’s an unfair comparison – Veep just ended, and I really miss Veep.

People say the relationship in this movie is unrealistic because someone as composed and calculated as Charlotte would ever fall for someone as clumsy and politically risky as Fred, but to that I say get the fuck over it. It’s 2019, Trump reigns supreme and anything can happen, dammit. I might fuck around and move to New Zealand. Probably not, but you never know.

In Theaters, CrispyGuest User