This week’s episode of Hard Ticket represented a particularly difficult choice for all the foodies in the audience. But I’m not one of them, and am therefore able to be a completely impartial and unquestionable critic. This week saw the first ever three-way match-up on the pod, and another guest swung by for this aural ménage. And what a guest it is! When I saw that the Hard Ticket boys got the one and only John Brown, of Harper’s Ferry fame, I was absolutely stunned. Turns out I can’t read so well, but Josh does a good job anyway. On the off-chance he is related to John Brown, I want it known that I’m a big fan of his ancestor’s shit.
The first movie we’ll be talking about is Chef. This creamy reduction stars Jon Favreau as a man faced with the oldest choice in the history of artistry. Do I sell out? Or do I make a movie about deciding not to sell out and then sell out anyway? And if you’re gonna direct yourself, why not cast Scarlet Johansen as your wife? I’d do the same thing, if I knew how to spell her name. But to answer the question posed in the episode, if I had to cast my own wife, I’d pick a nice, non-controversial celebrity like Sydney Sweeney. Or Jeff’s mom, my second favorite eugenics enthusiast.
Big Night is the second movie on offer this evening. Frankly, I think the movie has a misleading title. A movie called Big Night should be about one of two things—losing your virginity after prom or Kristallnacht. There are no other big nights in all of history and any assertion to the contrary is tantamount to Holocaust denial. This is the excuse I’m going with for why I didn’t pay attention to the discussion of this movie, watch this movie, or do even cursory research on this movie. Besides, if Israel can say that asking them to stop committing a genocide is antisemitic, then I feel like I can kinda make any bullshit claim I want.
The dessert to this cinematic daisy chain is classic Pixar film Ratatouille. It’s a charming little number that proves artistry can come from anywhere, even a certain podcaster that I repeatedly and regrettably accused of being an alcoholic. This is the movie that inspired me to learn that a chef hat is actually called a toque. It’s also a reminder to check in with our own metaphorical rats every once in a while. After all, what is a man but a rat under the toque of his prostate? This movie also sings praise for the typically unsung artists—critics, such as myself… and to a lesser extent, Geoff and Tchristin.
Ultimately, this is one Hard Ticket where I’d have to elect to leave the theatre. I’d get in the car and listen to my favorite podcast, Hard Ticket, on the way home. When I got inside, disrobed, and greeted my Jef and Tristain dolls with a friendly peck on the sternum, I’d watch the actual best food movie, The Menu. I will be taking no questions and serving no bread.
Hard Flickit 