Projects (Progress Reports orThe Movie Business
Originally posted on December 7, 2005:
It's a brisk, late-autumn evening, and I'm enjoying the view from my old office. Everyone's gone home for the day and I have kept all of the lights turned out. I just finished masturbating into an empty coffee cup on the desk by the window (probably belonging to Tomo-kun), and as I look out at the expressway and the Kyoto skyline, I begin wondering what it is, exactly, that separates us from the animals. Is it pornography? And is civility a by-product of soci--this thought is interrupted by the ringing of the desk phone. I shouldn't have answered it.
I find out Kurachi-san invested a great deal of his share of our pachinko parlor earnings in the production of a movie, and word of it made its way all the way up to Boss Takeda. It was Kou-kun on the line. "Who gives a shit what he spends it on," I told him. "I used to spend my roll on taking clients and friends to the soaplands!" (Soaplands, formerly called "Turkish baths", is where men go to be soaped or lubed up, and then satisfied manually, orally, and sometimes, though it's illegal, through vaginal penetration. They can be found in the alleyways of every city in Japan.) I am in disbelief of what I have just shared with Kou-kun.
"You did...?"
I am forced to sound indifferent. "Yeah, I used to."
"Boss wouldn't have liked that."
"What, and you never did?!"
"No."
I'm scrambling for arguments, "well, what the fuck?! I was doing the Family a FAVOR--I was taking clients!!"
"Yeah, to a competitor."
I take a beat, "well, it's not my fault we don't own any soaplands!"
"Yeah, maybe we should."
"Yeah, maybe we should."
We both snicker. He tells me Kurachi-san went in with some Krauts on this film called "Baruto no Gakuen" that's being shot in Shikoku, the smallest of Japan's four main islands. Kou-kun, not totally confident that Boss Takeda would accept his sole report on the investment, talks me into flying out to the set with him to report on it.
We take the early flight the next morning and then an annoyingly bumpy taxi ride out to the sticks in a town called Bando where, apparently, Kurachi-san's money has built a makeshift German internment camp.
"Guys, GUYS!" He gets up out of his collapsable seat to greet us with sunglasses and that ridiculous smile of his.
"Kurachi-san, you dumbfuck," I start, "who the hell spends two million on a fuckin' Nazi movie shot in Japan? And would you look at that?! (Referring to the set decorations.) Everything's written in Japanese!! The gate to the CAMP's not even written in German! You're so fuckin' dumb." I'm still indulging in the authority I exercised when talking to Kou-kun on the phone and the flight over. "You know we're not here to pound popcorn, right?"
"I know why you're here. And keep it down with the Nazi comments--this is a World War I movie."
I do decide to tone it down a notch after noticing the angry eyes of German actors and crew staring back at me--one pair of which I actually RECOGNIZE.
"Kou-kun, get me a bottle of water," I order impulsively.
Kou-kun quickly brings me a chilled bottle of Crystal Geyser and I approach her with it, wearing one of my tailored, dark-navy, wool suits, an off-white scarf, and black gloves--all purchased with the Ward-wardrobe budget. She's wearing a rather plain sweater and jeans and is interpreting for the director as I walk up beside her and try to hand her the bottle. She starts to take it, but hesitates when she finally recalls who I am. I react by smiling at her bitterly while completely ignoring the director, place the bottle firmly in her hand, and turn to walk away. I am insulted to hear her resume interpreting so quickly after my back is turned, but I walk off the set back over to Kou-kun and Kurachi-san. Some of the crew are admiring my shoes.
It's a brisk, late-autumn evening, and I'm enjoying the view from my old office. Everyone's gone home for the day and I have kept all of the lights turned out. I just finished masturbating into an empty coffee cup on the desk by the window (probably belonging to Tomo-kun), and as I look out at the expressway and the Kyoto skyline, I begin wondering what it is, exactly, that separates us from the animals. Is it pornography? And is civility a by-product of soci--this thought is interrupted by the ringing of the desk phone. I shouldn't have answered it.
I find out Kurachi-san invested a great deal of his share of our pachinko parlor earnings in the production of a movie, and word of it made its way all the way up to Boss Takeda. It was Kou-kun on the line. "Who gives a shit what he spends it on," I told him. "I used to spend my roll on taking clients and friends to the soaplands!" (Soaplands, formerly called "Turkish baths", is where men go to be soaped or lubed up, and then satisfied manually, orally, and sometimes, though it's illegal, through vaginal penetration. They can be found in the alleyways of every city in Japan.) I am in disbelief of what I have just shared with Kou-kun.
"You did...?"
I am forced to sound indifferent. "Yeah, I used to."
"Boss wouldn't have liked that."
"What, and you never did?!"
"No."
I'm scrambling for arguments, "well, what the fuck?! I was doing the Family a FAVOR--I was taking clients!!"
"Yeah, to a competitor."
I take a beat, "well, it's not my fault we don't own any soaplands!"
"Yeah, maybe we should."
"Yeah, maybe we should."
We both snicker. He tells me Kurachi-san went in with some Krauts on this film called "Baruto no Gakuen" that's being shot in Shikoku, the smallest of Japan's four main islands. Kou-kun, not totally confident that Boss Takeda would accept his sole report on the investment, talks me into flying out to the set with him to report on it.
We take the early flight the next morning and then an annoyingly bumpy taxi ride out to the sticks in a town called Bando where, apparently, Kurachi-san's money has built a makeshift German internment camp.
"Guys, GUYS!" He gets up out of his collapsable seat to greet us with sunglasses and that ridiculous smile of his.
"Kurachi-san, you dumbfuck," I start, "who the hell spends two million on a fuckin' Nazi movie shot in Japan? And would you look at that?! (Referring to the set decorations.) Everything's written in Japanese!! The gate to the CAMP's not even written in German! You're so fuckin' dumb." I'm still indulging in the authority I exercised when talking to Kou-kun on the phone and the flight over. "You know we're not here to pound popcorn, right?"
"I know why you're here. And keep it down with the Nazi comments--this is a World War I movie."
I do decide to tone it down a notch after noticing the angry eyes of German actors and crew staring back at me--one pair of which I actually RECOGNIZE.
"Kou-kun, get me a bottle of water," I order impulsively.
Kou-kun quickly brings me a chilled bottle of Crystal Geyser and I approach her with it, wearing one of my tailored, dark-navy, wool suits, an off-white scarf, and black gloves--all purchased with the Ward-wardrobe budget. She's wearing a rather plain sweater and jeans and is interpreting for the director as I walk up beside her and try to hand her the bottle. She starts to take it, but hesitates when she finally recalls who I am. I react by smiling at her bitterly while completely ignoring the director, place the bottle firmly in her hand, and turn to walk away. I am insulted to hear her resume interpreting so quickly after my back is turned, but I walk off the set back over to Kou-kun and Kurachi-san. Some of the crew are admiring my shoes.