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The hero is dead before this tale begins; you fall in love with him anyway. In the opening moments of “Jean-Michel Basquiat: The Radiant Child,” Basquiat looks up through his babydoll curled lashes, through the camera, through the screen, through you and smiles so deeply that the corners of his mouth roll into themselves. Maybe he’ll make it. But there is no alternate ending, no director’s cut. Your heart will break before an hour and a half is out.

He was gone 22 years ago of a heroin overdose at that mythically fateful age of 27 and the majority of this film sat in a drawer for its own 20-odd years. Director Tamra Davis (“Half Baked,” “Billy Madison,” wife of Beastie Boy Mike D) has brought out these remnants of her time with her friend Basquiat and pinned them against a backdrop of interviews and archival footage that brings not just Basquiat but downtown 80s New York back for a full exhibition.

Basquiat drifted out of a comfortable Haitian/Puerto Rican middle-class home in Brooklyn and into New York at 17 in the late 70s to live on his charm and change from the floor of the Mudd Club. His epigrammatic graffiti, under the tag SAMO, won him the attention of the bohemian downtown scene where you could call yourself an artist and become Keith Haring, call yourself a singer and become Madonna, call yourself a filmmaker and become Jim Jarmusch.

On film the power of Basquiat’s work and the naturalness of his creation of it is in full evidence. His talent was “boom for real” as he was fond of saying about things he liked. To testify to that, Davis rounded up representatives of every part of Basquiat’s life – childhood friends (Al Diaz), lovers (Suzanne Mallouk), artists (Julian Schnabel), gallerists (Larry Gagosian), collectors, East Coast friends (Glenn O’Brien), West Coast friends (Davis herself).

Longtime on-and-off girlfriend Mallouk is the steady voice through the film, delivering one of the most devastating moments toward the end. Fab 5 Freddy, a steadfast friend, is the closest there is to having Basquiat narrate, as he relates Basquiat’s inner life and feelings to time and circumstance.

Ultimately, there is a descent into paranoia and depression for Basquiat, aided by the death of his close friend Andy Warhol and humiliations delivered by his father. Davis handles this swiftly and deftly, not taking away any of Basquiat’s radiance that she has committed so well to film.

She was at the opening night at Film Forum. Humble and slightly flustered, she answered questions, listened to reminiscences and emphasized how glad she was to be showing the film in its spiritual hometown.

Walking out into the damp, warm New York evening after, blocks and decades away from the heart of the onscreen action, you feel the loss of the scene, of the possibilities it held, of Basquiat. You hear Julian Schnabel in your head: “New York, in the summer, it’s a motherfucker.”

BP gets caught with their pants down. I think this pretty much sums up how we all feel.

Well this is just incredible. PhotoshopDisasters has been known for showing up some mightily impressive companies and advertising firms. Most notably Pixar and Ralph Lauren have both found themselves on the site. But for Dave LaChapelle do have been caught is simply shocking. See how PhotoshopDisasters “stumped” Mr. LaChappelle.

Asia Dog teamed up with Trophy Bar this past Wednesday to help promote their Asian-inspired hot dog creations. Many know of them from their stand at Brooklyn Flea and their meanderings through Brooklyn and NYC. All eight varieties of Asia Dogs were in attendance, with beef-, chicken- or veggie-stuffed casings (sadly, no pork).

Asia Dog took what they’ve learned from working the Brooklyn Flea to make an event that ran smoothly. Show your ID at the door step, get a beer at the bar, wait on line for your dogs in the backyard. You were allowed two at a time and, considering some of these dogs come with a full Vietnamese sandwich piled on top, no one complained about the restriction. Most people came in pairs and simply ordered four different dogs and shared.

Then the rain came. Once again, Asia Dog’s flea-market chops came to the rescue as they were prepared with a tarp and only lost a few orders in the process. There was a definite pause in the flow but the open bar tempered any angst. Friendly staff and friendly food is always a good combo.

Wherever you happen to make their acquaintance, be sure you order the “Vinh,” the Vietnamese sandwich-inspired dog; the “Mash,” full of spicy kechup, jalapeno and mustard; and the “Wangding,” a dog piled with barbecued pork belly. Like anything good, an Asia Dog stands the test of time; the ones we carried home were still tasty cold.

Fly like paper, get high like planes.

“Dinner at a Sunrise”
Music: Ilya Dolinin
Director: Myaka

DBGB, Daniel Boulud’s lowerish-end restaurant, can be summed up by the photo above: a split femur whose marrow has been completely scooped out, devoured and savored. Not pictured is the extra bread that was ordered just to make sure not even the most ephemeral spot of moisture redolent with marrow, pickled mustard seed, salt and little else went to waste.

From everything ordered, it was the offal that was best. The Berliner, a wurst with curry and kraut, was a bland thing, tasting like something from Oscar Meyer. There was just a never fully realized sausage flavor. The pork schnitzel was delicious, the cocktails were spot-on and the burger was sufficient (not too much money, but not an overwhelming amount of flavor either). The pig’s head terrine (read: head cheese) was better than Craftbar’s. But the Boudin Basque? The Boudin Basque, you ask? The “spicy blood and pig’s head sausage scallion mashed potatoes” dish? If you come to DBGB and do not order this, you are wasting your time.

The Boudin Basque, well, it’s just hard to explain. The piggy bits are encased in grainy blood sausage and sit atop smooth mashed potatoes. The combination does something to your taste buds. It tells them: “Stop thinking about what you’re eating because, yes, you are experiencing your sense of taste evolving. Changing. Learning to love again.”

The warm strawberry cupcake was nothing but perfect and the PB&J cake showed a playfulness you won’t always find in a restaurant of this quality and pedigree. Adding to the fun nature of DBGB is the extensive list of appetizers and sausages that you are encouraged to mix and share amongst your fellow eaters.

Even if you go just for the  bone marrow and the Boudin Basque, you will have spent your time and money like a person who understands the value of those things.