Two sort-of separate thoughts, linked by TOKYO!

One of my favorite parts of the Internet is how hard it is to miss something wonderful if you're really into its subject matter. Here is a tiny account of how I found out (and was reminded, and was reminded again) about TOKYO! (the movie):


Pretty awesome, right? Over six months, I had messages about the movie coming from a blog, a friend and a mailing list. By the time the movie opened, there was no way I was going to forget about it. And how could I, with a trailer like this?


Last weekend, I finally saw it with Jack and I loved it. This is one I'm going to have to buy when it's released; I can see myself wanting to watch little bits of it over and over again.

In short: The movie is three separate stories – all set in Tokyo – directed by Michel Gondry, Leos Carax and Bong Joon-Ho. I loved each one for different reasons. There were a lot of "everyday adjustments when you're new to a big city" parts in Gondry's, the feelings of which I can remember/relate to. Also, one of my favorite buildings has a tiny cameo in it.


The Carax story was slightly jarring and hilarious at the same time; it starred Denis Lavant, who nobody ever seems to be able to take their eyes off of (here he is in the Rabbit in Your Headlights video). The Joon-Ho story not only referenced hikikomori... but it also had a TON of sunlight in it, which is one of my favorite things in the world to look at.

I really am happy that I enjoyed Tokyo! this much, because I accidentally read a withering review of it a few days beforehand that ashamedly had me spooked (don't click on that unless you are okay with spoilers): Tokyo! has no real reason for being, least of all as a city portrait. It’s disposable art-house tourism, made by filmmakers with too many festivals to attend. Wowzers! Seeing this movie reminded me why I tend to take such things with a grain of salt, since it's hard to apply the opinion of someone I've never met to the context of my own life.*

I realize that this post doesn't really have a clear flow. Sorry. These are the two separate thoughts that aren't SO separate in my mind but I'm having a hard time explaining (try to poke holes in these if you can, I don't feel 100% yet):

1. The Internet is a great platform for guiding you to things you love: either directly (something you signed up for, e.g.), or via someone else who knows you pretty well. DUH, I know, but I'm just thinking about this now.
2. The more paths that something takes to get to you, the more support there is that you should probably check it out further. These paths are in a way pre-selected and shaped by "what makes you you," right? So all of them taken together are a better predictor of whether or not you'll like it than someone who's paid to write reviews that stand on their own or in a silo. Again, common sense, but I liked deconstructing it a little.

* I think of this in the same way that I think of professional restaurant reviews (I wrote this as a comment in Noah's post about rating systems & personal rules). One of the reasons I prefer public rating systems over things like Michelin is context. Restaurants don't live in a vacuum: they are part of people's lives. On Yelp, you can look at profiles attached to each review to get a general sense of the context in which the review was written. You can also look at the other reviews that that person has written (and what they wrote them for), and get a general gauge of how the restaurants (or shops) play a part in their everyday lives, their particular tastes, their "aesthetic" (gross but true), etc. Yakitori Taisho is not on Michelin's NYC Stars 2009, but it would be on mine because of who I am.

Kagayaaaaaa

Last night I bought the Tokyo edition of the Time Out guide. In it, I read about one of the most exciting things to look forward to: a bar called Kagaya.


Apparently the owner of the bar is a ham. He has patrons pick a drink and country, and then disappears behind a curtain. He emerges dressed in a costume relating to the drink and country (although I'm wondering how a frog costume relates to the U.S., as mentioned in this blog entry). The cups make noises and move, and the owner performs puppet shows.


I read that bar guests have the option of dressing up as frogs and giant teddy bears as well. A travel section of Guardian calls it "part bar, part puppet show... one-man-cabaret of a dining experience." Here are some other things that people have to say:

The eccentric waiter soon re-appeared minus the frog costume, as if nothing had happened, to take our food orders. There was no conventional menu to be seen, but rather a deranged puppet show involving a teddy bear demonstrating how delicious the food was.

The hyperactive host kept popping behind his magic curtain and bringing us games and toys to play with. Table football, balloons, electronic games, and monkey costumes. I was grinning like a stoned toddler all night.

To be able to regress to the level of a brainless five-year-old while chugging beer is enormously liberating.

[from here]

...a 5-foot-5 fluorescent-green frog came bounding out of the closet and leaping across the room. The human jumping bean came as quite a shock, but it was just the beginning. With each round, we pushed the envelope a little further-kung fu master from China, Cossack dancer from Russia-until Mark finally threw in the towel with Sri Lanka.

[from here]




I hear there's a karaoke machine, too. Upon telling Amber about this place, she said "I'm afraid you're never going to come back, Johanna." Who knows _

[photos from seliberry & elswedgio]