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.

Booksmart

books.jpg
Rating: Perfectly Toasted.

Rating: Perfectly Toasted.

Saying goodbye to

Your lifelong friends is the worst

Thing you do in life.

I’ve been told that the special kind of lifelong friendship like the one between Molly (Beanie Feldstein) and Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) is one in a million. I would not know this for myself, however, because I have four of these one-in-a-million-type friendships myself. It’s true: I’ve had the same four best friends in my life for practically my entire life. When I was two years old at a preschool Thanksgiving celebration, I sat in my friend JB’s dad’s lap instead of my own. I’m not supplying this anecdote to rub into your face how many friends I have or to brag about the prime real estate I got in Dave’s lap to sing preschool songs about turkeys and pilgrims, but to paint the picture of how close we are and always have been with each other and our families. So when I see a best friendship play out onscreen akin to one of my own, I can feel the difference between a movie that has to work for me to believe its characters are good friends and one where they truly love each other. The latter is what makes a movie like “Superbad” so special, and also probably why “Booksmart” feels so much like the high school comedy that put Jonah Hill and Michael Cera on the map (and happens to be my favorite movie of all time). A lot of comparisons have been made likening these two movies, and while there are numerous plot beats that ring similar to Superbad in Booksmart (as well as lead characters who share a bloodline in real life), it’s the friendship love between the leads that makes the movies feel the most similar.

When the end-of-the-decade lists start popping up at the end of the year, Booksmart will undoubtedly go down as one of the best high school movies of the decade. Like the best coming of age comedies before it, it’s relevant and timeless all at once (and has a killer soundtrack). The “let’s party before high school ends and we all go off to college” story isn’t a new one, but Booksmart’s spin on it is laugh-out-loud hilarious and refreshingly inclusive. I had to work hard to get good grades in school, so I love the whole concept of “I tried harder than you, I deserve better than you” getting chewed up and spit out in your face. The glass-shattering moment when Molly realizes everyone else got into just as good as schools as her is one of the funniest and most relatable I’ve ever seen. And the diverse cast of characters feels authentic and natural, not like a calculated afterthought or like someone was just trying to check boxes.

Rarely is a movie so game to tickle your funny bone and warm your heart at the same time, but Booksmart is riddled with jokes with emotional depth. Anyone who’s ever had to part ways with close friends for college (or at any other life stage, for that matter) will agree that Booksmart’s ending is perfect. How do you say goodbye to the people you’re used to seeing every day of your entire life? That real, final goodbye is always sadder and awkward than you think it’s going to be, and no spoilers, but Booksmart captures this moment in a way that feels both true-to-life and true to these characters. Seriously, it’s perfect.

It’s crazy that a movie that feels as timely as Booksmart was written 10 years ago, but it’s even crazier that it’s not going to see its day at the box office due to a shitty job by Annapurna. This was supposed to be Beanie’s Big Break, and as a directorial debut for Olivia Wilde, it’s immensely promising. The snob in me likes that Booksmart is destined for cult status instead of mainstream popularity, but it sucks that it had to happen because of a shitty marketing plan. 2019 has generally sucked for a lot of reasons, but halfway through the year I’ve already read my favorite book in February (shout out Beastie Boys) and seen what will go down as one of my favorite movies in May. So this year hasn’t been all bad.

In Theaters, Perfectly ToastedGuest User