#22: Hello, Los Angeles, and goodbye
Death By Consumption
10/1/24 - 10/7/24
I’m heading back today from a long weekend in LA for Justin’s birthday, where we mostly ate food and otherwise existed between restaurants, so this will be slightly abbreviated. We stayed in a strange studio apartment beneath a rich European’s expensive house in the hills, staring directly at the Hollywood sign from our bed, and there were no curtains on the windows so the homeowner could look at us while she gardened. Would not recommend, but at least it was cheap, by LA standards.
Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, The Flesh, and L.A., by Eve Babitz (1974, reissued 2016) — paperback
Yes, I read Eve Babitz while in LA. I’m not ashamed! I love a themed consumption moment, and I‘ve been meaning to read her in anticipation of next month’s publication of Didion & Babitz. (And what are you doing to prepare for that book’s publication? Have you chosen a side? Purchased a gun?)
Even though this collection is actually mostly set in the areas surrounding LA, the vibe is still that of a hungover, hot Sunday in Los Angeles, perfect for our weekend. As has been said about her a million times before, Eve Babitz makes writing look easy. Beautiful, charming sentences just fall out of her, and the instant I finished this book I started reading another Babitz. I may become a bit obsessed for a little while.
Redemption Ark (2002) and Absolution Gap (2003), by Alastair Reynolds — paperback
Had to finish the trilogy I started last week, of course. The second book was better than the first, probably because you didn’t need to figure the world out to get into it, so you’re just right back in the middle of this galactic war, with all the trippy strangeness Alastair can continue to dream up, like a “religion” that’s actually the result of a mind-altering, belief-implanting virus, for example.
Unfortunately by the third book, the wheels start to fall off a bit. Alastair Reynolds clearly loves coming up with new, wild types of people or futuristic inventions, but when he’s done with something he’s done with it — he discards characters or entire plots that you’ve been following for, in some instances, thousands of pages, with almost less than a shrug. A major character will die suddenly off-page, giving you the sensation as if, midway through the first Star Wars, Luke turned to Leia and said, “So sad that Han Solo died, huh?” The series ends with the feeling that Alastair’s editor simply told him it was time to finish up now — even on the very last page, he’s still introducing new concepts and even entirely new alien species. You can practically feel him yelling, wait, wait, I have more ideas! Whatever holes there are in the ending, the overall feeling I’m left with is of a very rich, strange world created by this British madman stoner, like the textual equivalent of David Lynch’s Dune. I mean, when you’ve got a book series that features a woman cutting open another woman’s stomach to steal her psychic fetus, you can’t really expect a pat ending, can you?
Practical Magic (1998) — on MAX
I can’t remember the last time I saw this movie. Maybe decades ago? Anyway, you should be asking yourself the same question: when was the last time you watched Practical Magic? Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock and Dianne Wiest and Stockard Channing are all having a gay old time (not literally, though, since the old joke about this movie remains true: all their problems would be solved if they went gay), and it’s impossible to not also have a great time watching this. Plus, the soundtrack! Two Stevie Nicks songs? Truly, what more could you ask for?
Drive My Car (2021) — on MAX
I’ve been wanting to watch this since it came out, but it’s always difficult to pull the trigger on a 3-hour, meandering foreign film, you know? But I’m glad I finally did — this was spectacular. It’s slow and poetic and yet I found it completely engrossing. The characters are complex, each one of them taking you on a very complete journey, and it’s incredible how perfectly the movie manages to stick the landing. Haruki Murakami is so good at doing… whatever the hell he does in his stories, and they managed to translate that indescribable Murakami vibe from the page to the screen impeccably.
Joint Security Area (2000) — on Criterion
The story of four South and North Korean soldiers working on opposite sides of the border, this is the film that made Park Chan-wook famous in South Korea, and for good reason. It’s a great movie! The investigation sections are a bit clunky, but the middle section, when the North Korean and South Korean soldiers are just hanging out, is incredible. It’s just a lot of silly bro time, you know? Dudes being dudes. The whole movie should have been that section, actually. Also, the soldiers should have kissed.
Bad food — at Yangban in LA
Look, I hate to hate on a restaurant that’s just doing its best, but this place is on a ton of well-respected publications’ lists of best restaurants in LA, and I need to speak the truth. It’s not good! I’m sure it’s on the lists because of its irresistible hook — husband-and-wife chef duo with a combined Jewish/Korean heritage make Jewish/Korean fusion cuisine — but the actual food is not worth the exorbitant price. Almost every dish was confused (what does a tostada have to do with Jewish and/or Korean food, please tell me!), none of it felt even slightly coherent, and at the end 3 of us were surprised with a $600 bill, which, frankly, is criminal. It’s a flop, sorry!
Incredible food — at Pijja Palace in LA
Though we started on the wrong foot with Yangban, we ended with the absolute redemption of the LA food scene at Pijja Palace. And, look, we were skeptical — for one, the restaurant is literally inside a Comfort Inn. It’s also a sports bar. And the food is a fusion of Indian and classic American food like pizza, pasta, and wings, which felt like a disaster waiting to happen. And yet we had such a great time! The pizza is literally, like, a frozen cheese pizza but with a green chutney on top of it, and somehow the flavors of the burnt cheese and bright, spicy chutney not only worked perfectly as one dish, but seemed like they should have always gone together. The malai rigatoni is cheesy and Italian up top until the Indian spices come in on the back end, and as we dug in we were once again asking ourselves, “Why aren’t Italian and Indian food always together?” The vibe is ”like a bar at JFK,” as Justin said, but the food was such a revelation that it all just became part of the charm. If every Comfort Inn had food like this they could rival the Four Seasons.