I sit in a dark and gloomy
bar, somewhere on the outskirts of the Cape Town Harbour. Outside a neon sign
flickers in the winter darkness reading Ricks Café Americain. I wore a deadpan
expression on my face, staring deeply into the rolling remains of my diluted
bourbon. A couple of other drunks sit near by mumbling obscenities under their
breaths to ghost like patrons seemingly lost in their own misery.
A piano man unofficially donned Sam taps away at the keys of a salmon colored piano in the corner of the room playing what sounds like the beginning of Claire De Lune or some other melancholic tune.
“Christ it had been a long
year and it was only May.” I mutter under my breath, “Sam?”
“Yeah boss”
“Its 31st of May in Cape
Town, I’m guessing it’s about the same in Casablanca. What time do you think it
is in New York?”
“I…my watch stopped
working boss.”
“I bet they’re sleeping in
New York. I bet they’re sleeping all over America.”
Overcome by the pain I
slam my fist down onto the bar. “Of all the cinemas, in all the cities in all
the world they walk into mine. They had to order the extra large popcorn, a
gigantic slushy drink, and whispers
to boot. Arrive five minutes late and sit in my isle. What’s that you playing?”
“Oh, just a little
something on my own” he responded sheepishly.
“Well stop it. You know
what I want to hear.”
“No I don’t”
“You played it for those
two you can play it for me.
“Well I don’t think I can
remember…”
“You play at a bar called
Ricks Café Americain God damnit. Now play it!”
“Alright boss”
Sam begins to play “As
Time Goes By”.
“Christ I haven’t heard
this tune in a while. Brings back painful memories of a time when a night out
at the cinema still had a certain romance to it. Back then we didn’t go to the
movies. We went to the pictures. We dressed up and respected the time-honored
tradition. Nobody had cell phones or facebook to ‘check-in.’ Nobody cared if
you were reuniting with your college pals at some trendy bar, or how much you
‘mish’ each other, paraded unashamedly over virtual ‘walls.’ You didn’t check
in with anyone, people only checked out… And when they did, we went to their
funerals and that was the end of it.
“What was the last picture
you went to see Sam?”
“Crazy, Stupid Love with
Steve Carrell I think.”
“And was it any good?”
“It was pleasant enough.”
“You don’t lie as well as
you used to Sam. You know it was God-awful drivel. What did the audience think
of it?”
“They seemed to be
enjoying it.”
“Of course they did. You
know what’s worse then an unintelligent movie Sam?
“No boss.”
“An unintelligent audience
that’s what. Oh, Who can blame them? What with the dross that Hollywood
produces every week…their expectations have lowered…”
“I guess Boss…”
“But I do blame them. If they stopped paying the entrance fee the careers of these unfunny hacks would die and I wouldn’t be three quarters of a way through a bottle of Jack. I saw that Avengers tonight. Highest grossing opening weekend since Harry Potter they tell me. Where did all the money go? I’ll tell you where it went. Into a bunch of high-powered effects that’s intended to distract you from a lack of meaningful plot and one-dimensional characters. The only character I found half believable was that green angry fella.”
“The Hulk?”
“Yeah him…the only
character I could relate to. Course I might have enjoyed it a little better if
the guy sitting a couple of seats down from me wasn’t performing fellatio on
his straw that protruded out of his oversized slush. If he’d exhibited the same
kind of skills on the strip they’d call him Roxanne.”
“You don’t have to put on
the red light” sang one of the drunks across the bar as if a dog
howling to the moon.” The bar fell silent for a moment.
I continued, “Anyway, I
gave him the quarter head turn, then the half head turn, and he still carried
on sucking away. His goddamn slush was empty by the second trailer. We all knew
it. But he just continued to slurp away at the goddman thing like he was Daniel
Day Lewis sucking for oil. And always at the most inappropriate times, right
over important dialogue. You think people would exhibit some restraint in their
eating habits during the more intimate moments of a film…. not that there were
many in The Avengers. Just a bunch of explosion and action scenes followed by
some nauseatingly smug quips from Robert Downey Junior.”
“I thought he was kinda
funny boss”
Ignoring Sam I continued,
“Oh who am I kidding, all the romance of it is dead. It died a long time ago
when the cell phone was born and social networking became second nature.
People’s attentions spans lasted longer then a music video. Comedy wasn’t
reduced to a bunch of bridesmaids getting diarrhea…the genius of that. These
days going to the pictures is like flying economy class. Leg room has been
reduced, ticket prices have gone up, you’re forced to sit next to people that
aren’t fit for a zoo and just when you’re about to get comfortable some little
blue light flickers in the corner of your eye, accompanied by a loud whisper
that says, “'Excuse me I have to use the toilet again…'I might as well wait for the movie to come out on DVD.
“You’re only saying this
because you’re drunk and…”
“I’m saying it because its
true! I sit in these theaters watching these pathetic excuses for public
service announcements that urge the audience in vein to turn their cellphones
off, and somehow it never gets through. That’s because they’re never hard
hitting enough. If I had my way Christian Bale would accompany me to every film
and if anyone so much as uttered a word over a piece of dialogue they’d have
the Terminator to deal with. I public humiliation fit of an angry Mel
Gibson. But they’ll never do
something like that of course because the companies that own the cinemas couldn’t
care what you do once you’ve paid the price of admission. ‘Set the fucking
reptiles loose on each other’ they’ll say, ‘as long as the movie makes budget.’"
A thud is heard as another one of the drunks falls off his stool.
“And yet week in week out
I return to these relics is the naïve hope that it’ll be different this time.
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon... Soon I’ll go see a picture.
The audience will be considerate, turn off their phones and sit down in time.
They’ll realize that they can put their lives and relationships on hold for a couple
of hours, sit in the darkened theater and be absorbed into another universe. Be
transported into a world foreign to their own that contains truths so true its
as if the dialogue was written for them alone. This is my hope Sam…”
“We all hope for that boss.”
“Cheers to that,” another
drunk says as be proceeds to tumble, joining his friend on the floor.
“Sam, I’m no good at being noble but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of a couple of drunks, a piano man and one infrequent blogger doesn’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Some day you’ll understand that.” A single tear rolled down Sams cheek as he chimed out the final notes of ‘As Time Goes By.”
“Now now,” I commiserated,
“Here’s looking at you kid.” And raised a toast to hoping.
END
