Review: Memoirs of a Geisha - worst movie of 2006 so far.

What an awful experience, 3 hours of very, very, bad drama - if one can call it that. Sure enough, the pretentious wankers at the Guardian gave it a very favorable review. That is because their reviewers have no soul, just a pretensious loser checklist: non-western? check (or so they thought, the movie was actually a Hollywood offering); anti-American? check (very lame jabs at Americans - "these American men are bastards!"); so called artistic beauty? check (the movie is liberally sprinkled with shots of ostensibly Japanese villages and mountain scenes which make you wish you were outside and not in the cinema enduring the third hour of a story that would have been told better in three minutes).

So anyways, I hated this movie passionately. I can't remember a movie arousing so much anger in myself through sheer crumminess. And it is long. Looooooooonnnnng. Needlessly long too. It is as though they said to themselves "lots of good, serious movies, are long."

Basically, this movie is far worse than what one imagines would come out of George Orwell's imagined script writing machine from 1984. "Prole-feed" entertains you, even though you are ashamed to admit it. Memoirs is a case like that of the Emperor's new clothes: pretentious people have been told it is good, and will tell others it is good because they don't want to look as though they didn't 'get-it'. Blech!