Monday in Olde Nagoyaland, and though it's still over 30C and sweat dripping stinky (the riverside smelled like rotten eggs and old man farts on my run this morning) summer is definitely on the wane. It's been a really disappointing one this year...dark, cloudy and rainier than shit. In 27 years, I've never seen an August like this on Planet Japan.
It's post-Obon, and my lovely wife and I have been catching up on the late release summer flicks whenever we get a chance. Everything seems to come out on a two-three month delay over here - then in the span of six weeks, it's one after another, and a scramble to kind of get everything in that we want to see.
So far the fare has been middling, at best. The latest installment in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise wasn't as bad as the last couple, which were disappointing - so that was a pleasant surprise. Jack Sparrow is probably the only tolerable routine that Johnny Depp can manage these days. In fact, I figure that he should probably just stay in character...permanently. The Mummy, Universal's Tom Cruise vehicle, and the first in an envisioned 'Dark Universe' franchise that will see resurrections of all of the studio's classic monsters in to a sort of inter-connected 'Marvel Universe' inspired series of films also didn't stink as bad as the critics had promised it would; while not without it's weaknesses, was actually mildly entertaining, despite Cruise heading up the marquee.
Last week's oeuvre was the new Spiderman flick...another winner from Marvel Studios. Very entertaining, thumbs up. Marvel has been on a hot streak that is almost unheard of, and this one is no exception. Not a dull moment...and pick of the seasonal crop so far. Of course, it would have been EVEN BETTER if the guy sitting next to my wife had bothered with any type of personal hygiene. She had to sit with a cloth over her mouth for the whole 2 and quarter hour duration, while I had to suppress the urge to gag several times. It was like acid reflux...but stink triggered. I mean...this was bad. Eye watering, rancid - like peed on old socks and dirty nappies. For a veteran nurse to say that was the 'nastiest stink' she'd ever smelled...well, you can imagine.
As if this alone wasn't enough, further adding to our viewing pleasure were three totally nerded-out looking millennial white dudes that had decided to take up the line of seats directly in front of us. Americans? Canadians? Hard to say.These individuals simply could not shut the fuck up. In fact, as soon as we walked into the auditorium, we could hear the three of them braying like over-wrought jackasses at slop-time. When we saw where they had planted themselves, I knew it was gonna be a fucking nightmare. Jesus fucking christ. These are the kind of guys that we called 'fist magnets' in high school. Aggressively uncool. As we maneuvered toward our seats, they, of course, had to make a point of singling us out, and and braying, "Hey!! Marvel fans!"...to which I refused to respond. Boundaries. Fucking geeks. Don't encourage them. I guess they caught on, and quickly went back to grunting, barking and haranguing amongst themselves, recounting their favourite moments in the last half dozen Marvel films in the worst way possible. These are the types of people that can put you off of something that you really like, purely through association. Over the years, I've had enough things that I love ruined by the worst kinds of idiots...and I've never been able to ditch those unfortunate connections. Fuckers.
It's like why I won't go to another Metallica concert in North America.
I had actually harboured some hope that they would settle in once the lights went down...but NO... t'was not to be. They were relentless. The one right in front of me was cackling like a retarded hyena every five minutes, and repeating every third line from the movie, punctuated with the ubiquitous, 'awesome!' in an obvious attempt to impress his two grunting and snorting cohorts. This seemed to have a domino effect on the human dirty diaper next to my wife, who would then, in turn, start babbling away with his apparently stink-immune pal in what seemed like some high pitched variation of Hindi.
Is this why 'gaijin' get a bad rap over here? It got me to thinking.
Oh...and the latecomer...the millenial J- guy with the earring who had booked his seat RIGHT NEXT TO ME (despite there being at least 8 empty seats between his friend and the aisle - not to mention abundant empty seats throughout the theatre), who kept leaning forward, and stealing looks at me during the movie (it was obvious enough to be distracting, and a bit c-r-e-e-p-y) just couldn't seem to be able to resist the temptation to haul out his fucking smart phone and start texting before the fucking show even wrapped. Maybe he thought that rancid stink was coming from me? Maybe he couldn't wait to get on LINE (the SNS smartphone app that all the J-locals seem to favour, for some reason) and tell the world. Fucking hell.
Sigh. Is it me? I really am starting to feel old. I guess this is why, as people age, they just inevitably stop going anywhere. The heathens and barbarians have indeed breached the gates. All this on a mid-afternoon, post-Obon Thursday, too.
Summer holidays can't wrap up fast enough. These idiots need to return from whence they came, and pronto. I miss my mid-week empty theatre matinees.
This summer has officially been a bust.
Bring on autumn. The Japanese fall season has been known to be lovely and pleasant. It would only be fair, considering the steaming wet dungheap this summer has turned out to be.
That'll do it for this month's rant and roll. Just a month to go until autumn equinox time...then it's all darkness and dwindle,
Until then, remember..."No matter where you go...there you are".
