If you see only one movie while drunk this year, may I recommend Zombieland, the almost unbearably bad horror-comedy starring Woody Harrelson. The only saving grace that allowed me to make it all the way to the end was the fact that I was pretty lit on sake and Hanny’s martinis. The movie is a modified road trip/buddy pic/zombie flick that somehow manages to integrate the worst of each of those genres into one bizarre mess.

As a road trip movie, Zombieland lacks any sense of place or location — Austin feels just like Beverly Hills. As a buddy pic, the film lacks any complex development of a closer (or even more distant) relationship between the lead characters over the course of the story. As a zombie flick, it has a lame zombie back story (modified mad cow) and some really blah-looking zombies.

The basic plot line is that the few remaining non-zombies on earth are each trying to get somewhere — one person (Jesse Eisenberg) to his family in Columbus, and another (Harrelson) trying to locate the world’s remaining Twinkies. Yes, Twinkies. On the way, they encounter a pair of hot chick non-zombies (Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin). Along their somewhat irrelevant and misguided path, they are chased by zombies, whom they elude and/or kill by a variety of boring methods, eventually arriving at a West Coast theme park where they have a final battle with the predators (in this film, the zombies aren’t undead, per se).

The one highlight of the film was the extended cameo by Bill Murray. When the cast of characters showed up at his house, Murray initially frightens them in a fully zombified rage — which he then reveals to be a ruse he uses to protect himself from real zombies. They romp around his house, which is basically a Ghostbusters museum.

As the alcohol wore off, I became painfully aware that the film I just spent an hour-and-a-half watching had less of a story than an episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.


My saving grace in being able to survive Zombieland was that my friends and I had just come from Hanny’s, where I was able to drink just enough to tolerate the cinematic train wreck. Hanny’s is exactly what a Downtown bar should be: cool and relaxed, yet sophisticated. It is definitely the place to go if you want to enjoy a classy drink in a supper club atmosphere.

I have yet to move past the drink menu, so that is just about all I can criticize. The caipirinha was pretty well balanced, although I could have done without the rock candy swizzle stick (I know that a sugar cane garnish may be tough to come by in Phoenix, so we don’t mind if you leave it out). They use Cachaça 51 which isn’t my favorite, but it is passable.

The sidecar was strong. Not in a good way. I enjoy sidecars because they incorporate a lot of different sweet flavors, but this just made me feel like a lush drinking a citrus-flavored martini.

Speaking of martinis, the gin martini was decent, although tiny (but a good buy for $5).

The staff is friendly and flirty — in fact, my friend slipped the waiter my phone number after we noticed him admiring my shoes. Yep, it was that kind of night.