I was tingling with excitement as I settled into a recliner seat while sipping on an chilled Pino Grigio. I ordered the ahi tuna starter with extra wasabi, and my waiter was very accommodating. The previews having been endured, my app arrived just as movie started. I was brimming with theatre excitement! Everything was perfect.

Unfortunately, though, I soon realized that only delightful offering before me was not to be on the silver screen, but on the laminated tray attached to my seat.

It also became quite apparent that the pitiful feast before me would not be enough sustenance to see me through to the end. I quickly ordered a bottle and a entrée. Again, my waiter was very accommodating.

In a word, Amsterdam is a mosaic. But not in a sophisticated, Guggenheim sort of way, more like an offering of Anime fan art made up of broken dishes from Goodwill: there are lots of pieces that sort of make a picture. We go to see this film for the cast and promise of a trip back in time with a good story. Instead, we are treated to a star-studded lineup evoking Irwin Allen's disaster flicks of the Seventies. Sure, there are stars, plenty of them. And there's also a disaster, all 2 hours and 14 minutes of it, but alas, we cannot find the plot.

When I realize I've got another forty-five minutes left (never have I ever checked the time so much in a theatre), I call up the waiter: bourbon and chocolate churros to finish out the evening. I probably would have walked out at that point, but I couldn't stand. That very accommodating waiter also helped pour me into an Uber after the credits rolled. So, while I wasn't safe from the incredibly disastrous attempt at a mystery (?) comedy (?) period piece (?) dunno (!), I was safe from plowing my car into a retaining wall. So, there's that.

Movie: blah.

Waiter: top notch.

Alcohol: necessary.