Welcome to the demented, drunken forest. It’s amazing that such an innocuous facade can lead into such a bizarre amalgamation of one drunk guy’s dream and another’s horrible decorating sense. Although it’s really impossible to explain without showing you, we can only describe the thing happening with this place as a strange Christmas in hell. White sticks that are supposed to represent tree branches splay out from behind the long bar, spreading out over the entire long, thin space. Ensnared in the mess of white brush are hundreds of twinkle lights. Not only does this set up give the whole place a horrendous nightmarish quality, but the shrubbery on the ceiling acts as a natural smoke sponge, trapping carcinogens and tar that come falling out on your head the entire night. As if this wasn’t enough, the entire jukebox is stuffed with bad, depressing rat pack music and 1970s ballads. The whole joint reminds us of Doctor Zhivago on acid. [MF]
237 3rd Ave.