M. for "moody" is my middle name
Sometimes I really, really pity TD for having to put up with my moods. Or rather, I'm amazed he does put up with them.
Vienna's tackiest shopping mall ,which is a mere 5 minutes walk from where we live, got an even bigger annex complete with multiplex cinema (boasting such attractions as a "5(!)D cinema") last summer. Ever since it opened, TD had been pestering me to go and check out the allegedly ultra-comfortable seats, knowing that I refuse to watch dubbed films out of principle if I can avoid it, i.e. understand the original language/there's a subtitled alternative. Like most cinemas in Vienna, "Lugner Kino City"(hereinafter called LKC) down the road only shows dubbed films so I told him I'd wait until a German or Austrian film came out which I'd be happy to see there. Films in their original version are are usually shown in small arty-farty cinemas with TV-size screens, often without Dolby Surround and other effects which are absolutely indispensable for the male cinemagoer.
As no German language films had been on offer since the opening, TD put his foot down last week and announced that he'd go and see a film at LKC on Saturday, regardless of whether I'd condescend to accompany him or not. He said he either wanted to see Prime or Memoirs of a Geisha. After some eye-rolling for dramatic effect I announced with the least enthusiastic inflection I could muster that I might consider seeing Memoirs of a Geisha in German as I expected it to be crap anyway. Literary snob that I am I'd also refused to read the novel it is based on, convinced it would be trivial and clichéd. Prime, however, I wanted to see in English as I'd seen the trailer and it promised to be quite funny.
That was before I discovered that my favourite retro-cinema just a little bit further down the road from LKC was showing an interesting-sounding Czech film (original with subtitles...) called Nuda v Brne (for the English market: Bored in Brno, for the German Sex in Brno. Yep, we like to call a spade a spade). Not only did I really want to see that film, I also love the cinema in question. It's basically a one-woman show. One and the same old lady sells you the tickets/snacks, inspects your tickets at the entrance to the only theatre, turns the lights on and off, operates the projector and lets you out at the street-side exit afterwards. There's usually only a handful of visitors and I consider it my moral obligation to go there every now and then, thereby preventing the cinema from having to close down. Needless to say, the chairs are of the uncomfortable KGB interrogation chamber variety and the sound is all but dolby surround.
When I asked TD if he fancied watching 2 films in one night (I knew we'd return too late from my relatives for the only 6 p.m. show of Nuda v Brne on Sunday), first the Czech one, then the Geisha, he wasn't into the idea. With a face like the sacrificial lamb I felt I was I eventually agreed to seeing Memoirs. As we were waiting to be admitted to the theatre and I was done complaining about the tickets being a rip-off, TD sweetly asked if it was humanly possible for the corners of my mouth to be turned downwards any further. Good point. You see, when I sulk, I sulk.
The masses of housewifey-looking women past their prime who spilled out from the previous show didn't bode well and I slumped down on the seat wearily. Hold on. What a bloody comfortable seat it was, too! Luxuriously upholstered, generously padded aaaaand you could recline the backrest by merely leaning backwards. Even in your reclined position, people could walk past you unhindered. Well, even if the film was going to be super-kitschy Hollywood fare I was at least sitting comfortably, I thought...
The film wasn't half as bad, either. I understand that for Japanese viewers it must be mockery to see Chinese, American-Asian, Taiwanese and what have you actresses play in artifical backdrops (apparently, "Japan" had been re-created on a vast Californian ranch only to be bulldozed after the filming) but for the average Central European, they did a good job of it. I must say that the 2 1/2 hours were rather entertaining and I didn't want my money back. Predictably enough, I also cried at the appropriate parts.
Seeing me furtively drying my eyes afterwards, TD remarked, "Naah, you didn't like it at all, did you?"
Weekend-purchases: At a bookstore that sells English books for half the normal retail price I bought Author, Author by David Lodge and the Impressionist by Hari Kunzru.
Vienna's tackiest shopping mall ,which is a mere 5 minutes walk from where we live, got an even bigger annex complete with multiplex cinema (boasting such attractions as a "5(!)D cinema") last summer. Ever since it opened, TD had been pestering me to go and check out the allegedly ultra-comfortable seats, knowing that I refuse to watch dubbed films out of principle if I can avoid it, i.e. understand the original language/there's a subtitled alternative. Like most cinemas in Vienna, "Lugner Kino City"(hereinafter called LKC) down the road only shows dubbed films so I told him I'd wait until a German or Austrian film came out which I'd be happy to see there. Films in their original version are are usually shown in small arty-farty cinemas with TV-size screens, often without Dolby Surround and other effects which are absolutely indispensable for the male cinemagoer.
As no German language films had been on offer since the opening, TD put his foot down last week and announced that he'd go and see a film at LKC on Saturday, regardless of whether I'd condescend to accompany him or not. He said he either wanted to see Prime or Memoirs of a Geisha. After some eye-rolling for dramatic effect I announced with the least enthusiastic inflection I could muster that I might consider seeing Memoirs of a Geisha in German as I expected it to be crap anyway. Literary snob that I am I'd also refused to read the novel it is based on, convinced it would be trivial and clichéd. Prime, however, I wanted to see in English as I'd seen the trailer and it promised to be quite funny.
That was before I discovered that my favourite retro-cinema just a little bit further down the road from LKC was showing an interesting-sounding Czech film (original with subtitles...) called Nuda v Brne (for the English market: Bored in Brno, for the German Sex in Brno. Yep, we like to call a spade a spade). Not only did I really want to see that film, I also love the cinema in question. It's basically a one-woman show. One and the same old lady sells you the tickets/snacks, inspects your tickets at the entrance to the only theatre, turns the lights on and off, operates the projector and lets you out at the street-side exit afterwards. There's usually only a handful of visitors and I consider it my moral obligation to go there every now and then, thereby preventing the cinema from having to close down. Needless to say, the chairs are of the uncomfortable KGB interrogation chamber variety and the sound is all but dolby surround.
When I asked TD if he fancied watching 2 films in one night (I knew we'd return too late from my relatives for the only 6 p.m. show of Nuda v Brne on Sunday), first the Czech one, then the Geisha, he wasn't into the idea. With a face like the sacrificial lamb I felt I was I eventually agreed to seeing Memoirs. As we were waiting to be admitted to the theatre and I was done complaining about the tickets being a rip-off, TD sweetly asked if it was humanly possible for the corners of my mouth to be turned downwards any further. Good point. You see, when I sulk, I sulk.
The masses of housewifey-looking women past their prime who spilled out from the previous show didn't bode well and I slumped down on the seat wearily. Hold on. What a bloody comfortable seat it was, too! Luxuriously upholstered, generously padded aaaaand you could recline the backrest by merely leaning backwards. Even in your reclined position, people could walk past you unhindered. Well, even if the film was going to be super-kitschy Hollywood fare I was at least sitting comfortably, I thought...
The film wasn't half as bad, either. I understand that for Japanese viewers it must be mockery to see Chinese, American-Asian, Taiwanese and what have you actresses play in artifical backdrops (apparently, "Japan" had been re-created on a vast Californian ranch only to be bulldozed after the filming) but for the average Central European, they did a good job of it. I must say that the 2 1/2 hours were rather entertaining and I didn't want my money back. Predictably enough, I also cried at the appropriate parts.
Seeing me furtively drying my eyes afterwards, TD remarked, "Naah, you didn't like it at all, did you?"
Weekend-purchases: At a bookstore that sells English books for half the normal retail price I bought Author, Author by David Lodge and the Impressionist by Hari Kunzru.
posted at 11:42 AM
2 Comments:
Ahhh, a fellow book snob. I did read Memoirs, but am smug in the knowledge that it left me suitably unimpressed. However, there's no waaay you'll ever seem me reading The Da Vinci Code, EVER!
Oooh no, definitely not for me the Dan Browns, J.K. Rowlings and John Grishams. I don't think they face imminent bankruptcy with one or two readers less anyway...
PS: Wow. You're up late on a Mon. night/Tues. morning!
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