Just back from watching Memoirs of a Geisha. I won't ruin the movie with a review which may or may not do it justice, because to tell you the truth, I found the book which I read a few years ago much more moving than its visual counterpart. As much as I love the theatre and movies, I am totally biased towards the written word - letters which collectively conjure images and tantalise our imagination work wonders with me.
What annoyed me, and there always seems to be something which annoys me, were the bunch of ill-informed prostitutes who surrounded us in our not so comfy tight stuffy cinema - where almost all the seats were occupied. I don't understand why there were more women than men watching the movie, but if those were women, then I need to come up with a new definition for the word bitch.
We arrived at the cinema a good half hour before the start of the movie and there were empty spaces...occupied by those hags' bags and jackets and some spill over fat from some of the fat ones. If the cinema was empty, I would understand the extravagence and even perhaps attempt to take more space than the lonely sad seat I had paid for. What made me furious was the arrogance of those women, especially the two lesbos, whom we planted ourselves next to. They were actually angry that we - a bunch of unruly Arabs - came and sat next to them. Excuse me? I didn't read the word RESERVED on the seats we paid tickets for.
Such smelly souls (soles) should really wait until the DVD is out and watch the movie at home. A public cinema isn't the place for them ;)