Christina Waters

It’s not hard to believe, watching There Will Be Blood, that Daniel Day-Lewis could simply do a Google Search for an Oscar, and it would arrive at his door the next day via FedEx. He’s that good. And in this would-be epic by director Paul Thomas Anderson, his ferocious performance outstrips the film attempting to contain it.

Not that it’s difficult to become spellbound by Robert Elswit’s probing camerawork of New Mexico and California, or by the eerily engaging soundtrack by Jonny Greenwood. Blood has visual overtones of The Searchers and Giant, yet its tale of moral depression, greed and loneliness bears even closer resemblance to The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, with some Elmer Gantry thrown in.

The story, based on “Oil” by Upton Sinclair, is as simple and sweeping as Citizen Kane. It is a tale of one man’s blind obsession and how the fortune that follows alienates him from other people, and ultimately his own soul. But Blood is no tragedy, and Day-Lewis’ character, Plainview, is no visionary. He’s a doggedly ruthless, unlikeable, turn-of-the-century entrepreneur driven to prevail by some dark fire.

The opening scene sets the tone — for both the film and for Day-Lewis’ performance. For the first ten minutes there is no dialogue at all, as we watch the physical ordeal of a man out in the middle of nowhere, deep in a pit digging rock with a pickaxe. The sheer desperate hardship of this life is conveyed in every sinew, every throbbing vein of Day-Lewis’ anatomy. (more…)

Being embraced by the Hero of Chappaquiddick might not be the sort of endorsement an aspiring leader would want. But then, as I watch the cameras pan the Senate at last night’s repeat of every other Bush State of the Union speech, I get a queasy feeling as I see the good ole boys anoint yet another newbe into the male power bull-ring.

Yes that is old Washington deal-maker Teddy Kennedy cozying-up playfully with Obama, a contender without an agenda, a strategic tabula rasa — perfect for manipulation by the rank and file. Of course Teddy — “not-JFK” — Kennedy would not want a person with defined qualifications, clear and proven leadership abilities, a brilliant steel-trap mind. Especially if that person was a woman.

But wait? I thought the Obama people kept shouting about how their candidate wanted a change from the Washington establishment? Hmm, guess they meant some other Washington. (more…)

Guess where these incredible ganache-frosted chocolate merlot cakes are being created?

(Answer: read my upcoming Metro Santa Cruz profile - issue of February 6.)

We spent a knockout birthday dinner at the very new, very accomplished Limoncello (503 Water Street, on the site of the former Bella Napoli). Thanks to chef Giovanni di Maio, every course was solid — as satisfying as it was beautiful. From creamy buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil, to tender mezzaluna ravioli, natural filet mignon and a classic veal marsala, we were thrilled to have this dining room back in its glory.

The place was packed and every dish looked fabulous.

The secret dessert weapon is a frozen cream parfait utterly saturated with the tangy, sweet limoncello liqueur.

Open for lunch and dinner, grazie tanto.

Maybe it was the understated crimson wrapper. Maybe it was the elegant matte finish. Maybe it was the prospect of dark chocolate inflected with something dramatically different. Whatever it was about that bar of Café-Tasse artisenal chocolate I saw at Shoppers, I went for it.

Belgian chocolate noir - and here’s the intriguing bit - laced with Szechuan peppercorn. My my.

This was truly something wonderful - a loveletter to my mouth. The effect went like this. Creamy with a pepper crunch, the sensation was distinctly basso profundo, haunted with the descriptively elusive edge of exotic peppercorns. An improbable sequence of experiences - texturally and flavorwise - unfolding with a delightful persistence of synergy. Like a hot dream that continues long after you’re awake.

Sophisticated chocolate - $3.99 for 3 ounces — and something to remember on Valentine’s Day.

What’s wrong with a Clinton/Obama ticket, with Hillary on top?
The O man gets down with 8 years of solid, on-the-job training - and then slides on into the Oval Office right after that…..

Last night’s debate looked a lot like prom night courtship behavior to me. If these two join up then both of them win - and most of all, the nation wins against a Republican choice who would keep us in Iraq till kingdom come.

It was Capricorn Birthday night at the Ideal Restaurant, and I joined a small band of other January birthday boys and girls for the super dooper Prime Rib dinner — free to patrons with birthdays in that month. Do I need to tell you that the place was packed to the rafters with celebrants brandishing balloons and sparklers?

Amazing slabs of rare, rare, rare prime rib, served with mashed potatoes and sauteed veggies. I was impressed. But even MORE impressive was the flavor of a 1977 BV Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon, opened by one of my party just for this occasion. Yes, that’s a 30-year-old wine, and it was still full of smooth spice, mouth-filling tones of cherries and varietal fruit and tons of tannin. Just kidding about the tannin, since the ability to age was due to using up most of the mighty cab’s tannic properties.

It was a seriously fine old wine and a tribute to the BV legend. Thanks Gary!

Is it just me or is Berkeley really more there than most other places in the Bay Area?

Whatever it is, I shamelessly confess that I like having lunch all by myself at one of the outdoor tables of Cafe Rouge. This hopelessly hip place holds down one corner of the 4th Street mecca, between Gilman and University. Upscale boutiques twinkle along a two-block section of this neighborhood along the main route to the UCB campus. Between the illegally luxurious Pasta Shop (sea salt from Wales and Sicily!) and relatively downmarket Peet’s, Cafe Rouge has always been ahead of the curve in terms of out-and-out chic, killer menu and artisan charcuterie.

So here was obviously the place for me to test drive a Niman Ranch hot dog. At $7, it was a dollar cheaper than my gorgeous organic salad, and two dollars cheaper than the glass of minerally Grüner Veltliner that went with the frank like Prada on Kate Moss. Loaded with garlic, the hot dog was sheer bliss (maybe it was the outdoor setting, warm sun, plus I was famished). But the secret weapon here was a relish of spiced cabbage so good I could have inhaled the container even without any accompaniment. The potato chips weren’t bad either.

Oh, did I mention that the hot dog had been mesquite grilled? That’s the sort of touch that makes Cafe Rouge one of my favorite places to have lunch in Berkeley. Plus it’s across the street from Sur la Table where I bought a few little chartreuse, square salad plates. Chartreuse is my favorite color.

How much is Julian Schnabel paying the film critics? There’s no other reason why intelligent film-goers would succumb to the sophomoric exercise in cinematic vanity that is The Diving Bell & the Butterfly. Intrigued by raves from a wide range of reviewers, including local filmies, I wasted $7 and two hours on this pathetic excuse for a movie about a magazine editor confined to almost complete paralysis and the “life lessons” he learns thanks to attractive therapists, hand-held camerawork and of course, those crucial sub-titles.

Did Schnabel really think that making the film in French would elevate its mawkish, soporific effect? It doesn’t. It just means that you listen to lots of French speakers while you’re being bored to tears.

Wait, I know. Schnabel (a well-connected New York artist famous for painting on really big plates) decided to invoke the “Atonement effect.” You know, that’s where you shamelessly capitalize on a five-minute cameo by a major-but-aging star. (more…)

We joined art lovers this weekend at the opening of Linda Pope’s latest curatorial creation at the Eloise Pickard Smith Gallery at UCSC. Claire Lerner’s eclectic combinations of photographic images and mixed media - “The Relaxation Project” (detail,r.) fills the Main Gallery, while Jimmy Chen’s “Sleepwalking” series occupies the Annex Gallery.

Chen - a graduate of the university’s Art program and a former student of painter Frank Galuszka, makes small, moody nightscapes. Chen’s work explores the underbelly of suburbia’s comfort zone, in unsettling little studies that suggest Edward Hopper by way of David Lynch (below).

Claire Lerner’s pieces elicit a reflective mood of carefree summertimes, and their underlying quiet, idyllic nothingness.
Show continues through March 8, 2008. The Gallery is located at Cowell College - 831/459-2953.