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Food & Drink Hungry Memphis

Wahlburgers Wild Opens at the Pyramid

Fancy a bison burger? Or, perhaps a large bowl of venison chili? Fret no more; chef Paul Wahlberg conjures the spirit of the outdoors with plenty of big game dining options at Wahlburgers Wild in the Bass Pro Pyramid, the chain’s first Tennessee location.

The Wahlburgers brand has had its eye on Memphis for a while, with plans for a Beale Street location scrapped in 2019. The Wahlburgers Wild brand was announced earlier this summer, and officially opened its doors Monday, September 27th.

Diners can expect a few twists on a regular Wahlburgers menu. Owner and chef Paul Wahlberg sticks to many of the flavors and dishes he ate while growing up in Dorchester, Massachusetts, but is hoping to provide a few items unique to Memphis.

“It’s going to be great opportunity for us to show what we can do,” he says, “and give people a chance to try something different.”

Venison chili bratwurst (Credit: Wahlburgers Wild)
Venison chili (Credit: Wahlburgers Wild)

Wahlburgers Wild whips up plenty of the brand’s signature dishes, like the Our Burger made with signature Wahl sauce, crispy chicken sandwiches, or spinach and parmesan Wahlbites. But the “Wild” section of the menu contains some gamier tastes, featuring the aforementioned bison burger and venison chili, alongside a venison bratwurst and the venison chili bratwurst. For dessert, drink up with one of the franchise’s thick shakes (alcohol optional).

The restaurant will offer lunch and dinner options every day of the week. According to the Wahlburgers website, the restaurant will be open 7 a.m. – 9 p.m. Monday through Saturday, and 7 a.m. – 7 p.m. on Sunday.

Co-owned by Paul with brothers Mark and Donnie, Wahlburgers has more than 50 locations around the country. The brothers, and the restaurant, were subjects of a ten-season documentary series on A&E that wrapped in 2019.

Wahlburgers Wild is located at 1 Bass Pro Drive.

L to R: Mark, Paul, Donnie, and Alma Wahlberg (Credit: Wahlburgers Wild)
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Film Features Film/TV

Transformers: The Last Knight

Ah yes, we meet again, Michael Bay, my old nemesis. My Nemesis Prime, you might say. That’s what hero truck-bot Optimus Prime changes his name to when he turns evil in Bay’s latest bit of deviltry, The Last Knight. …

*sigh*

Okay look, y’all. I gotta be honest. My heart’s not really in this. I know, I love writing a good Michael Bay takedown as much as you like reading them — probably more, if I’m being honest. I’ve been doing them for years. Back in the day, Chris Herrington, the Flyer‘s former film editor, would assign me to do the Michael Bay movies, because he knew I hated them. I’ve had a Michael Bay-sized chip on my shoulder since 1998’s Armageddon. How do you mess up a movie about heroic astronauts trying to save the earth from an asteroid? There were so many ways. Then there was Pearl Harbor. How do you mess that up? This is the film where Ben Affleck gets on a train to go from New York to London, neither of which is anywhere NEAR Pearl Harbor.

I include that tidbit in every Michael Bay review, because I still haven’t gotten over it.

And now, another Transformers movie. The fifth one. Giant Robots Go to England. At least they don’t take a train.

I don’t think Michael Bay’s heart is in it any more, either. Back when he had Will Smith and Martin Lawrence demolishing Haitian neighborhoods in Bad Boys 2, at least he seemed like he was having fun with it. In the nonsensical opening scene — in which it is revealed that the secret to King Arthur’s success turns out to be, you guessed it, Transformers — Merlin (Stanley Tucci) takes a big swig of whiskey before staggering into a crashed alien spaceship to forge an alliance with a giant robot. It has the feeling of a confessional moment for Bay: Oh boy. Here we go again. …

Heavy metal — as in considerably cumbersome CGI depictions of giant robots turning into other things.

Bay’s been watching Game of Thrones and obviously missing the point. You like flawed characters caught in impossible situations making hard choices? How about a bored looking Markey Mark just kind of floating through the frame while animated piles of scrap metal scrape together in the background? To say Mark Wahlberg is phoning it in overstates his engagement. Wahlberg is leaving a voicemail for the audience. He was hoping you wouldn’t pick up.

As a longtime Bay watcher, he’s always been indifferent to the audience’s suffering, but in last year’s 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, I detected something new: a seething resentment of the audience. The Transformers Reaction Force, a special forces group led by Santos (Santiago Cabrera), who can’t seem to decide what side he’s on, seems imported from that movie. It’s like Bay’s sneering misogyny, evident in his treatment of Vivian Wembley (Laura Haddock), the Oxford English Lit professor who can’t seem to speak in complete sentences, has been extended to the entire world. Our alleged hero Cade speaks in Trumpian word salad, insulting any and everyone he comes into contact with. For Bay, there’s only one use for words: busting chops. Expressing dominance.

There’s a general shoddiness to the whole endeavor. A Goonies-like group of kids is introduced early, only to just wander off without explanation. Bay has always had a knack for explaining things that didn’t need explaining and not explaining big things like, “Where did those five kids go? Did they die in the robot apocalypse along with the tens of millions others alluded to but never seen?” The same stock footage of fighter planes peeling off to attack is used over and over again in the final battle, which itself is inexplicably ripped off from last year’s epic flop Independence Day: Resurgence.

“It’s just big, dumb fun!” might be a valid defense against my half-hearted critical barbs, except for one thing: No one is having any fun, least of all Michael Bay. It’s not even fun to hate-watch Transformers: The Last Knight. At this point, even writing this review feels like enabling bad behavior. As a three-headed robot dragon swoops in, breathing fire, King Arthur screams, “This is what the end looks like!” And I can only say I hope so.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Deepwater Horizon

Sometimes, real life comes up with deeper ironies than any fiction a writer could envision. For example, did you know the catastrophic fire and explosion at the Chernobyl nuclear plant was started by a botched safety test? If I read that in a screenplay, I would recommend changing it, because it’s just too on-the-nose.

The story of the Deepwater Horizon, the oil rig that exploded in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010, killing 11 people and ultimately causing the biggest oil spill in the history of the world, has several such ironies attached. The biggest one is that, moments before the explosion, executives from BP and Transocean, the owners of the half-billion-dollar floating oil rig, had gathered the staff in the cafeteria to hand out a safety award to the rig’s captain, Jimmy Harrell. Forty-eight hours later, the cafeteria — along with the rest of the rig — would be on the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s a dramatic story, but not an obvious choice for a film. The mechanics of what happened that day are highly technical, and the choices that led to disaster boiled down to a series of judgment calls made by highly trained engineers trying to understand a man-made system of devilish complexity. But try director Peter Berg has, with fairly good results.

Mark Wahlberg plays Mike Williams, a mechanic charged with keeping the Deepwater Horizon afloat in good working order. Williams has his work cut out for him, as the massive rig has been on station 100 miles southwest of New Orleans almost 50 days longer than scheduled. The phones don’t work, computers controlling vital machinery are regularly showing the Blue Screen of Death, and, most ominously, many of the fire detectors are masses of sparking short circuits. Kurt Russell plays the captain, known as “Mr. Jimmy,” as a tough, pragmatic sea dog who commands the respect of his crew by the purposefulness of his walk alone.

I am of the opinion that Russell automatically makes things better and should therefore be in all movies, but Deepwater Horizon doesn’t really get going until John Malcovich slithers onto the screen. You can tell by the slime dripping off his elaborately casual Creole accent that BP engineer Donald Vidrine is bad news. The crew has taken to calling the troublesome hole they’re digging in the floor of the ocean “The Well From Hell,” and Mr. Jimmy is appalled when he hears that BP has skipped some important safety inspections in the interest of getting the over-budget project into production mode as soon as possible. The confrontation between Russell, who urges caution, and Malkovich, who wants immediate results, crackles with tension. Once things are off the rails, Malkovich fades into the background, but Russell’s story is the film’s most intense. Mr. Jimmy was taking a shower when the rig went boom, so Russell gets to crawl naked and flash blind through broken glass. It’s a gutsy, brilliant performance that overshadows the supposed star of the show, Wahlberg.

Deepwater Horizon puts the blame for the disaster on meddling by the money men, which brings us to our final level of irony. The New York Times reported that the original director, J.C. Chandor (All Is Lost, A Most Violent Year) was fired by the producers when it became apparent that he was making the story an ensemble film that examined a historical tragedy from multiple points of view. He was replaced with Friday Night Lights producer Peter Berg, whose marching orders were to make Wahlberg’s character the hero of the story and to cut down on the sneering villainy of Malkovich for fear that BP would sue. Maybe that’s why Deepwater Horizon seems so uneven. Since Hollywood in 2016 doesn’t think a person simply doing his or her duty is enough to make for a sympathetic hero, the film starts with an interminable scene between Williams and his wife, Felicia (Kate Hudson). Making the obviously shoehorned-in scene even more awkward, Berg and his screenwriters put the first big chunk of exposition into the mouth of Williams’ 10-year-old daughter Sydney (Stella Allen). Deepwater Horizon doesn’t explode and sink, but there are enough flashes of brilliance here and there to know that, like its namesake, it was compromised by the incompetence of middle managers who concentrated too fiercely on the bottom line.