Memoirs of a Geisha
Eh
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
I went to see King Kong the day after Christmas. I know, I know. It had terrible reviews. So what? I wanted something epic, something with killer cinematography, something violent and loud and something that was fairly mindless.
I looked up the show times on Fandango and headed out to the local theater.
As usual Fandango had all the times wrong. I could wait there for two hours for Kong, or pick from the mediocre lineup showing right then. I chose Memoirs of a Geisha. Here is the trailer. Link
I lived a couple years in Asia, several months of those in Japan. But I never strayed too far from my American friends and culture. I thought Geisha were whores frankly and really didn’t want to see it on big screen. But nothing else looked even half entertaining, sorry Jennifer Anniston and Steve Martin.
So I bought my ticket and headed into the theater. When the film started I was one of 10 people in the theater, just the way I like it.
Geisha means “artist.” These women train to be walking art. Everything they do from applying makeup, pouring tea and flapping their fans is an art form. They give their lives to this “profession” and never marry. They sell their virginity to the highest bidder, but after that at least from what I saw through the movie, they are not for sale. Unless of course they want to be.
They are not mistresses, and not wives. They are the women men call to entertain them at a tea house with business associates because most Japanese men would not dishonor their family by having a mistress in public. (At least pre-WWII.)
So the movie was ok. I didn’t hate it. But I won’t be renting it when it comes out. Probably would be considered a chick flick and I heard a couple women say reading the book before seeing the movie really added to it.
Of course they had to throw in American G.I.’s whoring with the women, being drunk and obnoxious; which paraded on a background of hard living, despair, and quiet dignity seemed almost evil and heathenish. (If that’s even a word.)
Of course the movie didn’t cover the fact these young soldiers were celebrating the end of a vicious war. But it wasn’t about America.
All in all, I’d say, wait for the rental.
I looked up the show times on Fandango and headed out to the local theater.
As usual Fandango had all the times wrong. I could wait there for two hours for Kong, or pick from the mediocre lineup showing right then. I chose Memoirs of a Geisha. Here is the trailer. Link
I lived a couple years in Asia, several months of those in Japan. But I never strayed too far from my American friends and culture. I thought Geisha were whores frankly and really didn’t want to see it on big screen. But nothing else looked even half entertaining, sorry Jennifer Anniston and Steve Martin.
So I bought my ticket and headed into the theater. When the film started I was one of 10 people in the theater, just the way I like it.
Geisha means “artist.” These women train to be walking art. Everything they do from applying makeup, pouring tea and flapping their fans is an art form. They give their lives to this “profession” and never marry. They sell their virginity to the highest bidder, but after that at least from what I saw through the movie, they are not for sale. Unless of course they want to be.
They are not mistresses, and not wives. They are the women men call to entertain them at a tea house with business associates because most Japanese men would not dishonor their family by having a mistress in public. (At least pre-WWII.)
So the movie was ok. I didn’t hate it. But I won’t be renting it when it comes out. Probably would be considered a chick flick and I heard a couple women say reading the book before seeing the movie really added to it.
Of course they had to throw in American G.I.’s whoring with the women, being drunk and obnoxious; which paraded on a background of hard living, despair, and quiet dignity seemed almost evil and heathenish. (If that’s even a word.)
Of course the movie didn’t cover the fact these young soldiers were celebrating the end of a vicious war. But it wasn’t about America.
All in all, I’d say, wait for the rental.
