Benihana: 1/10

If there is a more overpriced, underwhelming restaurant experience in London, I'd like to know. The staff at Benihana in Swiss Cottage are friendly enough. And the chef who attends your table - comprising an enormous steel super-hot plate and stools around a wooden bench - is entertaining, flipping bits of egg-fried rice into patrons' mouths; and juggling with his razor-sharp knives; and throwing salt-shakers into his hat.

But for £91 I'd rather plump for Claridges, thank you very much. And what did our money buy us?:

-Two miso soups + three small sushi rolls
-A main of salmon/black cod (two very small, oil and lemon-soaked slithers that barely registered).
-Heart-shaped mousse for dessert.
-Two virgin mojitos.

I'd always had my suspicions about this restaurant, which has been in its present location almost as long as Ye Olde Swiss Cottage on the other side of the road. As you walk in, you're greeted with the stench of stale oil. The red carpets ooze grime and faded glory. And when you're shown to your table, you quickly realise that an intimiate dinner this will not be.

So I won't be going back to Benihana. Not for the "entertainment"; not for the food; and certainly not for another Valentine's dinner.

Anvil! The Story of Anvil: 9/10

I laughed. I almost cried. And had to use all my powers of persuasion to convince my friend that we'd just seen a real-life documentary, not a mockumentary/rockumentary in the style of This Is Spinal Tap.

I can understand why he found it so hard to believe me. And not just because Anvil's drummer shares a name with the director of that eponymous classic. Or that Stonehenge, the unexplained rocks in southern England about which Spinal Tap sang a ridiculous homage, makes a cameo appearance in Anvil.

The incredible tale of two nice Jewish boys still trying to hit the big-time with their heavy metal band, 30 years after they peaked, is both funny, sad, and ultimately touching.

"In the summer of 1984," we learn in both the trailer and the film's opening sequence, "Anvil toured the world with some of the biggest names in rock...All of them sold millions of records around the world...All of them, but one..."

Now in their 50s, lead singer Lips and drummer Robb Reiner still can't understand why they failed where rock gods Whitesnake, Scorpions and Bon Jovi succeeded. Yet they're a stoical bunch, like wide-eyed schoolboys who still dare to dream.

They embark on a European tour that was doomed from the start. They fight. They break-up. They get shafted. But they keep plugging away. By the end of this film, you may still loathe the band's music and dildo-strumming guitar-playing; but you'll have a place in your heart for these hitherto unheralded journeymen of rock.

Donkey Punch: 2/10

A few weeks back I met a nice Jewish boy called David Bloom. He had a nice fiancee. He was well-spoken. And he had an interesting career: he's a screenwriter. His biggest success thus far, a 2008 Brit-flick called Donkey Punch. He was even a class-mate of a close friend. How very nice, I thought.

But having seen Donkey Punch, I'm not so sure. The title refers to what a man, when in flagrante delicto can do to the lady he's taking from behind (not up the arse - one of the few saving graces of this vile film), in order to accentuate his pleasure. Punching a girl in the back of the neck just as you're about to reach the point of no return causes her muscles to contract, apparently, heightening the pleasure. "What's in it for the girl?" asks one of the characters. "Nothing," is the implied answer. The same goes for watching this film.

The characters - from the slutty, good-time-girl students on the pull; to the Ali G-sounding, cleft-lipped, South-London-wide-boy who thinks he's a DJ, a drug-dealer and in the least bit attractive. He isn't, and he probably went to public school.

The sex is graphic. The violence, gratuitous, and the characters annoying. So much so, that by the end of it, you've given up caring about any of them.

Which begs the question: how does a nice, normal, northwest London Jewish boy come up with something as depraved as this? Either he has a vivid imagination, or he's seriously disturbed. I can only imagine what his fiancee thinks.