Afterwards, we stuck with the Oriental theme by going to see Lost In Translation. An enjoyable hour and a half, though I can't award it the rave review certain folks on my Friends list have.
I felt it didn't live up to the promise of the trailer, which was much more fun than the film itself and made it look as if there was actually some degree of plot and character development going on. And what happened to the riotous scene where Bill Murray puts money in a vending-machine and out comes a pair of girly knickers, eh? I was looking forward to that bit!
The trouble was that I found it hard to sympathise with either protagonist. Bill Murray's character got on my wick because he was such a grumpypants throughout; there he was, in an exciting foreign city, getting paid $$$ to raise his eyebrows and a glass of whisky, and all he could do was sulk because the Japanese prefer Roger Moore's portrayal of James Bond to Sean Connery's.
Don't even get me started on Scarlett Johansson's 'oh poor me, I'm, like, eighteen and don't know what to do with my life' whinging brat. If having a philosophy degree from Yale had taught her to string a decent sentence together, I might have warmed to her slightly.
I should admit that I am mad keen to visit Japan, so my viewpoint may have been tinged by a little jealousy. This Nipponophilia of mine began innocuously enough with Pokémon, went on to encompass sushi, karate and Dance Dance Revolution, and will probably end with kidnapping a baby from a Japanese orphanage and smuggling it home to raise as my own.