Until last night, TIME AFTER TIME merely meant one of the greatest songs of all-time. Now, after watching the gloriously cheesy, dated but vigorously acted and hilarious 35th anniversary screening of TIME AFTER TIME (1979), it’s alongside BACK TO THE FUTURE as one of the most delightful time travel movies ever made.

In the LA-based Landmark’s ongoing Anniversary Classics series, film critic Stephen Farber puts the spotlight on overlooked gems, bringing in fantastic guests to do a Q&A after the fact. Last night, Malcolm McDowell of A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, ENTOURAGE and 229 (!) other credits, paid a visit to talk about his life and career. I’ll get to that, after I revel in discovering TIME AFTER TIME.

TIME AFTER TIME was a hard sell to studios, but Nicholas Meyer, the writer-director of the film, had written “The Seven-Per-Cent Solution,” a 1974 bestseller that combined Sherlock Holmes’ world with that of Sigmund Freud. Convinced by that novel’s success, Warner Bros. stepped up to make this film a reality, which was based on a novel by Karl Alexander (below).

Stephen Farber argues that he thinks TIME AFTER TIME would be a harder sell today, but a movie about H.G. Wells tracking Jack the Ripper in modern day San Francisco sounds exactly like the kind of high-concept crossover movie studios want to be making these days.

WB was hesitant to cast Malcolm McDowell in the role of the romantic lead and hero (H.G. Wells), thanks to his acclaimed role as Alex, the nutjob from Stanley Kubrick’s A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, that had typecast him (and would continue to do so). They eventually succumbed to Nicholas Meyer’s wishes. When McDowell got the script, it was a Godsend, “I’m not insane,” after all. He was thankful for not being made to play the role of Jack the Ripper.

That task went to David Warner, one of the greatest British thespians of all-time, who’s been in TRON, TITANIC, TIME BANDITS, THE OMEN and innumerable other gems, including indisputable career highlight Professor Jordan Perry in TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES II: THE SECRET OF THE OOZE. Here, Warner chews up scenery deliciously, as the creepy John Lesley Stevenson (or “Jack” to his friends), who opens up a creepy music box that never appropriately unnerves his forthcoming victim…right before slashing their throats. Also, if you ever wanted to see Jack the Ripper in a jean jacket…TIME AFTER TIME cures that long-held desire that many of us never knew we had.

Then you throw in Mary Steenburgen, who I’ve mostly only known as the curiously hot older woman (in ELF, STEP BROTHERS), as the hot and foxy younger woman who is super appealing, or Herbert’s love interest. She’s a career woman (in banking), who divorced her husband because he wanted her to be a doting housewife, and is all about the women equality movement, which tickles H.G. Wells to no end, since he trumpeted the cause back in the 19th century. TIME AFTER TIME is Mary’s second film right before winning an Oscar for MELVIN AND HOWARD, but this one is also notable because her and Malcolm fell in love, leading to marriage and two children. It didn’t last unfortunately, and now she’s married to Ted Danson. Here’s to you Mrs. Steenburgen!

Overshadowing everyone else though, is “Boy at Museum,” played by the one, the only…Corey Feldman, right before booking a role on THE BAD NEWS BEARS TV show.

TIME AFTER TIME was critically beloved, but never found the mainstream audience that WB had hoped, thanks to shamelessly publicizing the film as a “Jack the Ripper” movie. It didn’t hurt Nicholas Meyer’s career though; his next film was STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN (he also would direct STAR TREK VI). You might have caught that one.

The trumpeting opening, in which the titles zoom toward the screen with altogether too much alacrity, indicates a movie from another age, even dating the late 70’s film, as if we’re stepping into a Universal horror movie. It’s a fantastic introduction to Miklos Rozsa’s soaring presence. The legend won 3 Oscars for film scores, including SPELLBOUND, A DOUBLE LIFE and…BEN-HUR. He was nominated 10 other times, and he’s still got it here, in what was his final film.

In case you couldn’t figure it out from the poster or the trailer, TIME AFTER TIME is a time traveling caper/love story, in which H.G. Wells follows Jack the Ripper into the future to stop him. How do we get there?

In 1893, H.G. Wells has a big announcement to make to his closest friends, waiting for Dr. John Lesley Stevenson’s arrival. He’s late, of course, busy murdering a hooker in an alley somewhere. When he arrives, Wells announces that he’s made a time machine, and intends on using it, though he hasn’t worked up the nerve to do so yet.

When the cops arrive, searching every house in the area, and stumble upon John’s bag, filled with incriminating evidence, Stevenson is gone. To the future. Thanks to plot, the time machine returns home (because H.G. Wells had the homing key, or something), and Wells is forced to follow Jack the Ripper into the future, believing that he’s unwittingly sent a murdering psychopath into a utopia. Instead, he happens to land in 1979 San Francisco, a place that Jack the Ripper feels more at home than H.G. Wells does…until our resourceful hero runs into a horny young banker desperate to exchange foreign currency (that’s a euphemism, but also her job).

With the setting 1970’s San Francisco, I thought that perhaps they were going to link Jack the Ripper and Zodiac Killer, but the timeline would be messed up, not that we wouldn’t have forgiven that. It’s a time travel movie after all.

From there, we get many scenes that BACK TO THE FUTURE either borrowed, stole or paid homage to, blowing my mind, and possibly rupturing the space-time continuum in the process.

Consider this scene, when H.G. Wells outs himself as a time traveler to Amy:

It’s very much reminiscent of when Doc Brown comes clean to Clara in BACK TO THE FUTURE III. Take a deep breath…CLARA IS ALSO PLAYED BY MARY STEENBURGEN, who proves a lot madder the second time around, probably because Mary Steenburgen is tired of falling for liars/raving lunatics with awesome hair. Of course, the “second” time technically happened in 1885 in the Old West, eight years before she ultimately travels back to London with H.G. Wells (oh, spoilers). Is Clara/Amy an evil mastermind, collecting awkward time travelers? Is BACK TO THE FUTURE a spin-off to TIME AFTER TIME? “This is heavy, Doc.”

The date that Wells and the Ripper go back and forth on is November 5th, which is in fact one of the dates used in BACK TO THE FUTURE, as we can see from the following chart:

A newspaper from the future is even used as a key plot device in several scenes. There is no Enchantment Under the Sea Dance, unfortunately.

Whenever H.G. Wells’ silly time machine travels through time, it’s akin to LSD-laced/PTSD-like flashbacks from when you were a kid and you stared at those psychedelic kaleidoscopes too long, with rainbow colors splashing across the screen willy nilly. Considering the time machine is littered with rainbow orbs like the friggin’ Infinity Gems, it makes sense.

While TIME AFTER TIME is clearly a science fiction movie, it’s more heavily rooted in rom-com territory, thanks to the overarching romance between Herbert and Amy, as they fall in love on the eminently fall-in-lovable streets of San Francisco.

The pair of them are so adorably awkward, and so clearly hot for each other, that you’re begging them to mash genitals after the first scene. When they do finally start kissing, Amy even admits that she’s practically raping him. This is after she said she wasn’t a dyke and asked if there were a lot of A-rabs in Britain (her co-worker wanted to marry into oil). Visual evidence:

Either way, it’s nice to see a woman take control, giving bumbling geniuses with girl problems a break.

In many ways, H.G. Wells is like Ichabod Crane of SLEEPY HOLLOW, doddering around, stumbling upon astounding new inventions like the electric toothbrush, garbage disposal, and escalators. You already knew McDowell was a genius, but in TIME AFTER TIME, he shows off his slapstick and comedy skillz. It’s impossible not to chuckle at him following a woman in saran wrap (?), whilst taking notes:

There’s a lot to write about, there. Oh, and check him out trying McDonald’s (referred to later as a “Scottish restaurant”) for the first time, a few of the more blatant product placement opportunities that don’t feel as manipulative as they should:

Early in the film, it’s established that Stevenson and Herbert are the type of friends that always play chess, and that Stevenson ALWAYS wins, a face-palm metaphor for the cat and mouse game that is to come. The best scenes in the film, except when I’m fantasizing about Mary Steenburgen’s frizzy hair and chuckling at H.G. Wells’ “oh, dude in the past” antics, are when David Warner and Malcolm McDowell share the spotlight, going mano e mano:

TIME AFTER TIME is one of those movies that gets better with age, because its jokes are just as funny, and so many other lines become unintentionally hilarious. Plus, it’s a time travel movie, and time travel movies are the best subgenre there is. If you haven’t seen it, it’s high time to rectify that mistake, like I just did.

Besides, if there’s justice in the world, there will be a sequel, since Karl Alexander wrote one to his book. Behold:

Bwahaha.

OPTIONAL MINI-DRINKING GAME:

-Drink every time H.G. Wells touches his glasses.

-Drink for every bank you see.

If you want to cough up $1.99, you can watch Time After Time on YouTube here. Or, buy the DVD on Amazon for $5.99. It’s well worth it.

MALCOLM MCDOWELL ANECDOTES:

Afterwards, McDowell got to talk about his astounding life and career. Anyone who can tell stories that include Laurence (“Larry”) Olivier, Alan Bates and Helen Mirren (for ONE PLAY) has won. He recounted his age of debauchery with the Royal Shakespeare Group in England, where he tried to get fired (and filled his off-time with drinking, gambling and women). While he clearly missed the stage once he got going about it, he characterized himself as “a stage actor, but I escaped.”

While he loved and trusted Stanley Kubrick, and had to for his role in A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, he mentioned that Kubrick screwed him out of money for the movie. This was an ongoing theme, as he told a story about when he met Gene Kelly (who he paid homage to in the infamous Singing in the Rain sequence from CLOCKWORK), who looked him up and down, and stalked off without a word. 40 years later, Gene’s widow would tell him that he wasn’t mad at McDowell, but at Kubrick, because he hadn’t gotten paid.

His favorite actor of all-time? James Cagney (WHITE HEAT, SCARFACE). For him, there has never been someone more unpredictable, possessing his unique brand of energy.

Normally, when a high concept sci-fi show gets cancelled on FOX or otherwise, it’s time for an uproar and decades of bemoaning the snubbed show’s fate. ALMOST HUMAN bucks that trend, as its somehow a J.J. Abrams/J.H. Wyman/Bad Robot dud that no one should miss in the fall. To celebrate the show’s end, I’ve cobbled together a list of awful, alternative titles for ALMOST HUMAN, that still would’ve netted a more positive result than whatever it is I spent 13 hours of my life watching over the past few months with Lili Taylor. These are the 17 shows I want more than season 2 of ALMOST HUMAN.

17. BEING HUMAN (SyFy, or BBC, depending on your favorite flavor)

ALMOST HUMAN was doomed from the start, if only because it was a confusing title, since there were already TWO different BEING HUMAN’s out there. I watched two of the three, and mixed them up several times in conversation.

I’ve never watched the BBC version (I know, shame on me), but the SyFy version that is coming to its end this year, is far superior to the cliche drivel that we were subject to in whatever city ALMOST HUMAN takes place in (they never said).

16. ALMOST LUMEN (SHO)

Remember Lumen Pierce (Julia Stiles)? She was one of the special guest stars in season 5 of DEXTER, following the orgasmic (and should’ve been final) fourth season with the Trinity Killer. It was a tough act to follow, and little did we know that DEXTER would never successfully build off of it…for another 3 seasons.

ALMOST LUMEN would be a prequel series, chronicling the brutal origins of “The Group,” the band of men who raped, tortured and ruined Lumen Pierce’s life, leading up to when Dexter found her, rescued her, and let her embrace her Dark Passenger. It’d be a horrible series.

Or, ALMOST LUMEN would take place AFTER the events of DEXTER season 5, in which Lumen’s Dark Passenger has healed, and she tries to live a normal, if fractured, life, unable to ever completely live happily ever after. Ew.

15. ALMOST POOPIN’ (TLC)

13 years after the term “prairie dogging” was made famous in RAT RACE comes this reality show about men and women that are in a perpetual state of ALMOST POOPIN’. It’s painful, life or death, riveting stuff.

14. ALMOST LUPIN (POTTERMORE)

An adult take on HARRY POTTER‘s most underrated (and tragic) character, it would be Pottermore’s first foray into original content, and would blow up the internet faster than an Ellen DeGeneres selfie. The show would bounce back and forth between the past and future, with a young Remus growing up during his formative years at Hogwarts, while first grappling with his fate as a werewolf, and could cut to Teddy Lupin, his only son and Metamorphagus, dealing with hormones and being a sad sack orphan. Or it could be a heartbreaking but illuminating alternate history, detailing the life of what Lupin WOULD’VE become if he had never been mauled by a werewolf (spoilers: a death eater).

13. ALMOST GROOMIN’ (ANIMAL PLANET)

In this (literally) touching reality show, a group of talented but arrogant contestants face off in the ultimate competition: to become the world’s next great dog groomer. Blessed with a brush and a rotating cast of high maintenance puppies, you’ll have to shed a slew of shows to make room on your DVR. Ruff.

12. ALMOST BLOOMIN’ (FOOD NETWORK)

It’s the world’s first infomercial/original series hybrid that would change the way we consume pop culture, and onions. The brilliant maneuver by Outback Steakhouse would start a disturbing trend of chain restaurant TV shows (OLD MCDONALD’S, BURGER KING OF QUEENS, WENDY’S DRIVE THRU, JARED’S JEANS). Bloomin’ Onions would remain delicious and unhealthy.

This could also be a show about prepubescent girls before getting their periods. Or a show about actual flowers. Or a BRAVO show about guys and gals before they come out, and “bloom” into the gay man or woman they’ve always wanted to be. Aw.

11. ALMOST HUMMUS (TRAVEL CHANNEL)

How hard is it to make hummus? Find out in this eye opening docuseries spanning the Middle East and a whole lot of chick peas.

10. ALMOST FUMIN’ (HGTV)

While you might mistaken it for another Gordon Ramsay cooking show, this enlightening reality series invites viewers into the homes of those who fumigate ours. Find out what they’re really doing under those carnival tents while you’re stuck at a Motel 6.

9. NEARLY ALIEN (HISTORY CHANNEL)

This controversial series follows Detritus, the first kid born in space. When he returns home…he’s treated like an outcast, a misfit, the first alien. Some would anoint him as their messiah.

Or it’s about a Canadian.

8. NEARLY HEADLESS NICK (STARZ)

John Cleese reprises his role as the only ghost who actually gets older, in a prequel series when Nearly Headless Nick isn’t nearly headless, but still called Nick by his friends (that aren’t executing him).

7. ALMOST DUM DUM DUGAN (ABC)

This remarkable original series from Marvel and ABC would chronicle Dum Dum Dugan’s tortured and overlooked life as Nick Fury’s second in command known more for his bowler hat, mustache and his stupid fucking name than anything else.

JUSTIFIED’s Neal McDonough would retake the mantle of Dugan, and the big “twist” would be that the entire series wasn’t about Dum Dum Dugan at all, but the Skrull who took his place during SECRET INVASION (above). It’d be like getting to know and love Mad Eye Moody for a whole movie/book and realizing he was really a super villain played by David Tennant, only the pain would last for 3 seasons (Brian Michael Bendis would be the head writer).

6. ALMOST GOOD (BET)

Ostensibly a joke about the quality (or lack thereof) of ALMOST HUMAN, ALMOST GOOD would be a tissue-inducing (happy and sad), behind the scenes look into the life and career of Meagan Good. Despite her stunning body, good looks and talent, she’s wracked with self-doubt and stress (explaining why she’d shack up with Will Ferrell in ANCHORMAN 2), struggling to be as Good as she wants to be.

5. ALMOST CREWMAN (SyFy)

Timothy Bottleneck has always wanted to be on the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise. But because of his flat feet and bad hygiene, he continually fails the exams to qualify for Starfleet. In this quasi-REDSHIRTS ripoff, Timothy would learn over the course of a jam-packed 10 seasons that it’s better to be sucky and alive, than slightly better at life and dead.

You could also replace the Enterprise with the Titanic, or a dude whose dream is to work for a Disney Cruise boat, and is just far too creepy looking to ever get hired. All would be inspiring.

4. ALMOST CUMIN (FOOD NETWORK)

Is there a better spice than Cumin? There’s a reason cum is in the word. This pulse-pounding and salivating reality show would detail a battle of the remaining spices, hoping, straining, trying to be as tasty and useful as Cumin. And ultimately failing miserably.

3. ALMOST TRUMAN (LIFETIME)

The 33rd President of the U.S. and Missouri native was perhaps the most under-appreciated Prez in our nation’s history, given the unenviable task of following FDR in the midst of WWII.

Samuel Lebell says it best in his American Political Science Association award winning novel TRUMAN SUCKS (okay, so it was titled “The Future of American Politics”):

“…after seven years of Truman’s hectic, even furious, activity the nation seemed to be about on the same general spot as when he first came to office … Nowhere in the whole Truman record can one point to a single, decisive break-through … All his skills and energies—and he was among our hardest-working Presidents—were directed to standing still.”

Writers win awards talking shit about Truman. Almost beloved, almost successful, almost popular, almost Truman.

Only after he was dead and American citizens were offered the option of Richard Nixon and the Vietnam War, did they come to appreciate Harry S. Truman.

Poor Harry Sherbet Truman.

2. ALMOST, NEWMAN (NBC)

You’re welcome.

Wayne Knight’s long-awaited return to fame, where Newman gets the last laugh. Always.

AND THEN FINALLY…

1. OLMOS HUMAN (CBS)

The greatest actor in the history of the universe gets his own spotlight on TV’s biggest and “most watched” network. Each episode is different: a true variety show. EJO pitching Acne cream. EJO re-enacting speeches as Admiral Adama from BATTLESTAR GALACTICA (there wouldn’t be any almost cumin for that one). EJO hosting a talk show (that gravelly voice). EJO reading books to malnourished children. EJO curing cancer. EJO as every character in a soap opera. EJO doing whatever the fuck he wanted, because he’s OLMOS HUMAN, which is to say, he’s better than us all.

So say we all.

Oftentimes, I’m on my own, and that’s fine by me. If I waited for my friends to do something, or only did activities that appealed to them, I’d likely never get out of the house. Ever since I crumpled my acceptance form to the University of Washington, merely 15 minutes away from home, and took on the sojourn to an unknown, tiny town in upstate New York for college, many of my best times have come from my willingness to do exactly this. To just go, and see what my whims or instincts, or Yelp’s, Guy Fieri’s or Rick Steves’ instincts, will carry me into.

This random Saturday (Feb. 8th) in Los Angeles was one such day. I had a meeting for work (that I’m not at liberty to discuss at this time), and found myself in Hollywood on a sunny, glorious afternoon with nothing to do. The kind of conundrum people in Boston and NY wish they had right now.

I could bus back home (I’m one of the only LA residents who actually uses the infrequent, plodding and frustrating Metro system), or I could walk.

A lot.

Because I didn’t really bother zooming in on the Google Map of my phone, and because I had all the time in the world (a wonderful feeling), I decided it was time to make a Joss Whedon-tinged pilgrimage, and see what happens. That led to a roughly 4.3 mile jaunt down Vine (then Rossmore), then east on Wilshire, arriving at 4121 Wilshire Blvd, hoping this location still existed.

En route, I basically stumbled through one of the richest parts of LA, including past the infamous El Royale Apartments (above), erected in 1927 by William Douglas Lee, and keeping people erect until today. Check out the view and the inside:

Here are some other neat, massive apartment buildings likely filled with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s illegitimate children. Is it me or does the first one kind of look like an insane asylum, or a corporate building owned by Max Schreck or something? The day time maybe doesn’t sell that thought.

I sped past the Wilshire Country Club, keenly aware that I was the only one walking around (and not in a luxury vehicle). I also realized that I probably shouldn’t be snapping pictures at private homes, especially since many of them have legitimate security guards watching the house 24/7. I did anyway. Here are a few places I’d settle to live in:

For whatever reason, my recurring daydream involved bumping into Seth Rogen and smoking a blunt with him. I don’t even smoke. Not sure why it didn’t include a hot older woman who was antsy at home, like a Michelle Pfeiffer type. But I’m weird.

I also imagined actually living in a house like these, and while I liked some of the architecture, even if I could ever afford it, I just don’t think LA is where I’d want to live. Of course, if I ever find myself in that position, I’d likely sell out faster than I’d last during a sexual experience with Jennifer Garner (circa ALIAS days).

If this photo wasn’t taken from an iPhone, maybe it’d look more impressive. This is the view from Wilshire. Can it get any more Hollywood than this picture? Well, add droves of tourists, an empty tour bus, a hot dog stand and a dude dressed up as a Transformer, and you’d pretty much have it.

But enough of this shit. Finally, after a long ass walk, I reached the Hyperion Hotel, the sweet exterior location of Angel, Cordy, Gunn, Fred and Wesley’s base for seasons 2-4 of ANGEL.

BEHOLD!

The base was described by production designer Stuart Blatt as “an old hotel, something [the writers] could use to evoke the past of Los Angeles and some of Angel’s history, something kind of creepy and spooky but not too dark because they didn’t want something depressing…” It certainly fit the bill, and became the most iconic location on the show, aside from Cordelia’s chest. Clearly it stuck with David Boreanaz, as the hotel was even mentioned in a season 2 episode of BONES. It also got talked up in another Whedon classic, DOLLHOUSE.

In 1999, the apartment building, the Los Altos Apartments, was listed on the National Register of Historical Places. It was built in 1925 and was used as a luxury apartment and hotel for Clara Bow, Bette Davis, Mae West, Douglas Fairbanks and a little guy named William Randolph Hearst. I mean, they’re no Angel or Fred, but impressive nonetheless. AND YOU CAN STILL LIVE IN IT. RIGHT NOW.

While I was there, soaking all this in, a guard popped out and asked if I lived there. The guy’s either an idiot (I was a sweaty dude wearing a backpack taking pictures), or more likely, was using this question to get me off the property. I left pretty soon after, instead of staking the bastard, or claiming that I used to live in the house….fifty years ago. Either way, the nerd inside me was tingly all over during this experience.

If you want to live in such esteemed company, it’s only $1,850/month for a studio. A 2 bedroom apartment could be had for up to $3,600/month. What a steal.

I thought about turning around and going back the way I came back up to Hollywood, but thankfully I wasn’t a moron, and wandered toward Koreatown (or K-Town, if you think that’s cool to say).

In the heart of it, it appeared to be only hair salons and restaurants. My afternoon’s success called for one thing: BEER.

And that’s when I stumbled upon one of the best places to get beer and fatty foods in LA: Beer Belly.

Beer Belly is one of those “nice” places that serve craft beer and “classy” ways to ingest macaroni and cheese, pulled pork and french fries. I love these places, even if they’re overpriced.

I had the Duck Fat Fries, served with Raspberry Mustard (awesome), their “Frankenstein” ketchup (maybe even better) and a couple great beers. The fries were far too salty, but still fantastic, though I couldn’t help but want more duck than the duck skin cracklins and the duck fat oil the fries were drenched in. That probably means I’m getting Death by Duck next time, which is the duck fat fries with duck confit on top. Holy hell.

Their beer menu changes daily (the bathroom had a chalkboard advertising a keg opening on a Sunday, with deals occurring until the keg ran out), and after sampling a watery Irish Red from TAPS (of Brea, CA), I settled on the Holiday Spruce Ale from Craftsman Brewing Company based in Pasadena. As one might expect, it was like sipping on a Christmas tree, and that somehow translated into me calling it a smooth, easy drinking beer in my notes. I need help.

I followed that up with Modern Times’ Lost Horizon, a double IPA from the holy land that is San Diego. The beer itself was on the verge of being one of those IPA’s that’s just hoppy as hell because it’s supposed to impress you, without much in the way of flavor, but it skated by that potential catastrophe, thanks in large part to smelling like happiness. For more of my thoughts on beer, check out Untappd.

Beer Belly would’ve demanded future visits if only for the beer….but the food. I must try their Grilled Cheese, which has 4 kinds of cheese (Asiago, Gruyere, Cheddar, Goat Cheese), topped with bacon and a heaping portion of maple syrup. I could smell it all over the place, which made me hard and disgusted at the same time.

Bree, my delightful server, also recommended the Buttermilk Fried Chicken and the beer & chipotle braised short rib. I almost came on the spot, and somehow managed to resist ordering EVERYTHING on the menu. They have deep fried pop tarts, people. Bree also bought my second beer for me, so I was in love/tricked into tipping more to make up for the “savings.” One of my other notes about the place: “I want to be inside all the waitresses.” Real classy Andy. Beer Belly rules.

Before I had settled upon Beer Belly, I discovered another place for future reference. While I said earlier I’m fine going almost everywhere alone…this demanded company. This demanded a whole night dedicated to its revelry. This demanded Leonardo DiCaprio. Check out…

CAFE JACK. I don’t know where to begin with this place. It’s been themed after the TITANIC since 2007, merely TEN years after the movie came out. But that’s better than never to put a kitschy boat in a sketchy parking lot, where one buys coffee and sushi (they have a “Jack and Rose” sushi roll). It’s gotta be a stop on a Bachelorette party, or an ironic date with a game partner, or a place to get plastered at. It need to be on everyone’s itinerary.

The reviews are mixed, as one might expect, but that hasn’t deterred me from telling everyone I know about this place, in hopes that it can kick off a bizarre bar crawl.

With a spring in my step, I walked past Biergarten, then turned around and stared at the bar for a moment. I wavered on whether or not to grab another beer, or continuing on back up to Hollywood (I had an improv show to go to)…but it was that kind of day, and I sauntered in after a few moments hesitation. Plus I past this guy, who made the decision for me:

No idea.

Within moments, I realized that while trekking up Western, I had stepped in pungent dog shit, and I mistakenly brought it in with me to Biergarten. I quickly ordered a beer, and then stomped my entire body on the parking lot outside, rubbing my soles against the grass, to no avail. From there, I went to the bathroom and wiped the poop off of my shoes with paper towels, while the server was confused if I was staying or leaving. I still haven’t been able to get all of the poop off those shoes.

Needless to say, it was a fantastic entrance to a bar, let alone a Korean/German hybrid sports bar with one of the better beer menus I’d seen in LA. They have German fried rice, drunken chicken, and peanut butter sliders, apparently, but this was a beer-as-dinner sort of day.

I went with the Hop Tanker, a 9% double IPA, and it felt like heaven. If heaven gives you a hangover, an empty wallet and was from El Segundo. It had some great citrus and fruit on the tongue, while still remaining a kick in the pants.

Because I’m an idiot (and brilliant), I tried The Dudes’ Brewing Company’s Juicebox Series: Blood Orange, based out of LA (seen above). It was strong, overly sweet and thick, like the Big Lebowski fanbase, but it also kind of tasted like sweat. I was not a fan, but there wasn’t anything that I disliked about the concept.

Then I was off, to make it up to Hollywood. I got there in plenty of time to spare for the Doctor Who themed improv show that awaited me at iOwest (alumni from the entire iO program include Pete from 30 ROCK, Stephen Colbert, Andy Dick, Chris Farley, Tina Fey, Dave Foley, Neil Flynn, Jon Favreau, Dave Koechner, Lutz, Jack McBrayer, Seth Meyers, Tim Meadows, Amy Poehler, Mike Meyers, Danny Pudi, Key & Peele, Vince Vaughn, Jason Sudekis, Adam McKay, Eric Stonestreet, Glenn from THE WALKING DEAD and many more).

You know what that meant: more beer. Next up was the Blue Palms Brewhouse, another pub with a great beer list, including two of their own (brewed by Firestone Walker).

I started off with the aptly named Blitzen (from Faction Brewing of Alameda, CA), which was what made the Doctor Who Live! so much better than it really was. My quote for the beer: “Hell yes this is dangerous and hell yes I want all of it inside me.”

I followed it up with one of their own beers, the Blue Palms IPA, which was as bland and lame as any IPA you’ve ever had. Firestone apparently doesn’t care when there name isn’t on it. It was impressive that I could even distinguish anything at this point, but the bucket of salty pretzel balls surely helped (a bucket of salty pretzel balls ALWAYS helps, even if they burn your hand off). I was told to order the Truffle Burger next time I was there.

(Note: the next day I would randomly find myself back at the Blue Palms Brewhouse, and sampled their esteemed Truffle Burger, which was as rich and over-the-top as you might’ve expected. Not sure how much I truly loved it, but it was great.)

I found this hilarious at the time, and still do.

I finally arrived at iOwest, where I believe I had another beer while waiting for the show to start (because it was late), and talked football (GO HAWKS) at the bar with a couple folks, including a Minnesota Vikings fan and (gasp) a woman (no idea what team she was into).

I’d be lying if I said I internalized most of the show, but I still had a blast, and enjoyed the festivities, likely more because of the concept than many of the jokes. Crafting a new doctor, new companions and getting a different time period or locale every show highlights how the real show has lasted 50 years, and how an improv show based on it can last just as long.

Perfect photo for a caption contest.

Afterwards, it was time for another beer. Kidding: I took the bus and went sweet sleepy time. But before I did, I took a picture of the most important star on Hollywood Blvd: