I recently found myself in the movie theatre watching a real big screen movie. The only reason I was convinced to head for the movie theatre was that someone had mentioned to me that the movie was a blockbuster, and I desperately needed to know what a blockbuster looked like.
The other reason, and of more significance, is that the person who convinced me to attend was paying for the movie ticket, popcorn, dinner and the fare back home.
I had cut down my investment in the venture to just my eyesight and I was still worried about the return on investment.
COMBED PERSONAL CALENDER
I also had to comb my personal calendar and convince myself that there was absolutely nothing else for me to be doing at that particular time. I cringed at the thought of dedicating two hours of my life in front of a screen dong nothing else but just watching.
I am more inclined to watching a movie from the comfort of my home. While there and in between the interesting scenes, I can pour myself a beverage of adult nature, cut my nails and catch a break to watch the breaking news.
It was the second time in my life that I was stepping into a movie theatre.
My maiden visit was to a movie theatre called Odeon. Those born after the Nyayo era think Odeon is a matatu terminus. Let me educate you. Odeon was an upmarket movie theatre where blockbusters of them days were screened. Being upmarket did not stop big rats from sharing your seat and gnawing at your shoe soles as you glued your eyes to the screen.
I have all along struggled to follow a movies story line. My concentration span is thin and my brain keeps taking a walk and leaving my body to languish in front of the screen and occupying expensive seats for nothing.
The first 15 minutes of the movie lapsed as I queued outside to buy 3D glasses. I had ignored buying the glasses that to me looked all plastic and overpriced.
My vendor along Uhuru Highway traffic sells me designer sun glasses at just one hundred shillings, and I could not understand why I was investing a whooping three hundred shillings in glasses that I was not going to wear to a wedding the following weekend.
I was soon settled and I was hopeful that I would follow the movie to the end.
My luck ran out in precisely ten minutes.
Maybe I saw my own things, but I believe one of the stars had not shaved his armpits.
And that was it.
I cannot concentrate on a movie where an actor has not shaved their armpits without dissecting that situation for two hours.
Meanwhile, my seat mate kept laughing at the jokes that I kept missing because of the unshaven armpits courtesy of the main actor.
I spent the rest of the time peering at the screen without the 3D glasses, just to see if they were effective or I had been conned.
ASHAMED
But I was ashamed that I had not gotten some lifesaving lessons or skills from the movie.
On the way home I kept bringing the topic of the movie up with the hope that my friends would re-live some of the scenes and I get to hear some insights into the movie. Sadly, Nairobi people don’t discuss a movie they have just watched. You walk out and immediately talk about the latest teeth dentures and coal mining in Lamu.
Even after we parted with my friends, I kept wondering why that main actor had not shaved.
Was it in protest against poor pay, and he decided to teach the directors a lesson by spoiling an erstwhile captivating scene? Or maybe they were shooting the scene in the desert and they ran out of shaving kit. Did he belong to a proscribed sect that does not believe in shaving hair and wearing inner wear? What if he is just a good man who just forgot to perform that simple act of hygiene, and now he will have to spend the rest of his life feeling depressed every time he remembers that episode.
Did anyone try to warn the actor that his armpit was looking swampy, or they just saw it during the final shoot and decided that it was going to be too expensive to redo the scene?
My brain was in such a whirlwind I was getting a headache by the time I got into the bed.
One day I, will sit down and concentrate on a movie for just one hour without my brain taking a walk, and maybe my life will change.