Tokyo Decadence

"Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-In" for 11/26/93

cutline: The Japanese are so weird that the HOOKERS don't even wanna watch, as revealed in the gross-out flick of the year, "Tokyo Decadence."

By Joe Bob Briggs

Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas

You may of noticed that they did this experiment on the Space Shuttle where they took live rats and cut off their heads to see what would happen to them in outer space.

I happen to know that they got the results in this week, and they've reached a definite scientific conclusion:

THE RAT DIED.

They found out that, when you cut off a rat's head in a weightless condition, the rat becomes "dead." Some of the doctors had predicted this, but you can't be sure until you get out the old scalpel and start whacking, can you?

Now, let's compare this dead rat in outer space to what happens when you cut off a rat's head on Earth. As far as we can tell at this time, there is no difference. When you behead an earthboard rat, IT KEELS OVER AND DIES. The rat behaves exactly the same in both places. So, on Earth, the result is also "dead." It's gravity-aided death, of course, but still death.

Many people wonder why we would spend tax money on studying headless rats in space, but I think it's fairly obvious. We could have cut the head off an actual astronaut, but they would be far more expensive, and require far fancier equipment than we have available. By using a rat, we now know what will happen if an astronaut's head does become separated from his body in a weightless condition.

Of course, some will say that the test is inconclusive. How can we be sure that a decapitated astronaut in outer space would become dead, just because the RAT was dead? Rats and humans have a lot in common, but there are differences, too. For example, you can take a rat by the tail and slam him up against a tree and dash his brains out and then feed him to a cat. This would be very problematic with a human being.

There were rumors that the let's-mutilate-a-rat experiments had something to do with the military, but now that we have detente with the Russians, that seems a little far-fetched. Yes, it would be nice to know what we could expect if we sliced open a Russian cosmonaut in a weightless condition, or if all the members of a future Space Shuttle mission had their heads hacked off by a hostile enemy space ship, but I think we can extrapolate from this one experiment what the inside of the shuttle would look like once it touched down at Edwards Air Force Base. They would all be:

DEAD.

No, I think if we're REALLY gone explore this problem in a purely scientific manner, we need to move a little higher up the food chain. On the next shuttle mission, we should hack the head off a wire-haired terrier, or maybe a Siamese kitten. At the very least we could hack up somebody's pet hamster. Because the main reason you couldn't get any TRUE results from this experiment is that you were cutting the head off the only creature in the universe that's UGLIER than we are. The loss of the head is an IMPROVEMENT.

Next time, when heads roll--or, I guess, when heads float--let's make it count.

Speaking of things that are hard to watch, "Tokyo Decadence" is one of those films that comes along about every 10 years that everybody DESPERATELY wants to BELIEVE is a great art film about "sensuality" and "modern angst," because then they can get their girlfriend to go with em to see a porno film. And it WORKS. All the intellectuals talk about the cinematography--"Brilliant images! The vision of a new young genius!" And all the rest of us say, "Get a load of the hematomas on THAT one."

Anyhow, what makes this one trendy is that it's from Tokyo, where the businessmen are so strait-laced and up-tight that you KNOW they gotta be setting up trapezes in the bedroom, you know what I mean? And this movie pretty much confirms our suspicions. It's the story of a little sad-sack call girl who will do ANYTHING she's asked to do in the finer hotels of Tokyo. And some of the stuff is what you would expect, and some of it is what you've heard about but you would never expect people to actually put on film, and this one scene with a real estate guy called "Turtle Head" is such a gross-out that even I couldn't watch it, and I'll watch ANYTHING, up to and including Bonnie Franklin in a made-for-TV movie.

It's impossible to keep all the vowels straight on this one, but I THINK it's Miho Nikaido who plays the 22-year-old girl who studies sign language so she can work at a deaf orphanage, goes to a fortune tellers, wears a good-luck ring, pines for a married man who left her three years ago, and spends several hours a day running around town with a purse full of sex gizmos, turning $3,000 tricks where she does everything except get down on the floor and bark like a dog. The only thing creepier than what the men want to do to her is what the men what her to do to THEM. Fortunately, she conquers her shame by hanging out with an experienced hooker who introduces her to opium, heroin, champagne, and the importance of "living life to the hilt."

And that's just about all the plot you're gonna get out of me, because we're already testing the limits of the Omaha paper here. So I'll just rattle off those drive-in totals:

Fourteen breasts. Gagging. Blindfolding. Trussing. Multiple aardvarking. Blood transfusion. High-heel licking. A lot of stuff too disgusting to mention. Soundtrack full of sixties Hammond-organ Holiday Inn lounge music. Gratuitous Xavier Cugat. Gratuitous necrophiliac with a picture of Mount Fuji on his wall. Sex-toy Fu. Cocaine Fu. Heroin Fu. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Ryu Murakami, the writer/director, for lines like "Don't move--if the needle breaks, you die" and "'Stop' means to keep on strangling" and "This country drives its men into masochism out of anxiety"; and Miho Nikaido, as the hooker-with-a-heart-of-jelly, for saying "I'm at your disposal, sir" and "I've discovered that I have no talent--none whatsoever."

Those Japanese. They're primitive, but they're learning.

Three stars.

Joe Bob says check it out.

JOE BOB'S ADVICE TO THE HOPELESS

Victory Over Communism! The Starlite Drive-In on East Club Boulevard in Durham, North Carolina, had another great season and continued running the old cartoon ads for "Pic" mosquito coils, which they still sell in the concession stand. Todd Wyatt of Bristol, Tenn., reminds us that, with eternal vigilance, the drive-in will never die. To discuss the meaning of life with Joe Bob, or to get free junk in the mail and his world-famous newsletter, "The Joe Bob Report," write Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221. Joe Bob's Fax line is always open: 214-368-2310.

Editor (San Francisco Chronicle):

I would like to respond to Joe Bob Briggs' column, "Taking All the Fun Out of Harassment."

The title of his column alone makes an anti-woman statement with the implication that men should take pleasure in harassing women. Mr. Briggs is certainly entitled to express his discontent with how men's comments are perceived and with women who wait to report harassment. However, I am disturbed by his statement, "I'm glad that some women are giving it (the sexual harassment issue) up."

Mr. Briggs proposes a solution to his workplace complaints. Bringing coffee, he says, is a way to treat female co-workers how they have always wanted to be treated. However, he suggests, be as obnoxious, bitter and sarcastic as possible about the presentation of such behavior.

I would like to note that if we lived in a more mutually supportive society, perhaps women would feel free to come forward sooner to report incidents of sexual harassment.

I invite all men to use the power which society has given them to help us develop a truly equal society.

Let's stop fighting each other!

Daphne Green

Ross, Calif.

Dear Daphne:

I don't mean bring the coffee bitterly, and I don't mean bring bitter coffee. I mean just BRING THE COFFEE. If that's what they want, then I'll MAKE the coffee and I'll POUR the coffee and I'll BRING the coffee. Are you gonna scream at us for 50 years for NOT making the coffee, pouring the coffee, and bringing the coffee, and then claim that we're being obnoxious because we INSIST on doing it?

Get a grip, Daph. I don't write the San Francisco Chronicle's headlines, hon.

Dear Mr. Briggs:

(Re: Helping Di Die)

I feel a sudden need to stick my tuppence into the more recently emerged royal brouhaha (ha! ha! indeed), the Princess Di-Orama. Young, comely, embarrassingly wealthy and the mother of the heirs to the Crown Jewels, I can well understand poor Di's need to do herself in. Awash in the daily tide of sorrow churning in on the international newswaves, Di must feel ungodly miserable over her own amazin' good fortune. Recognize how undeserving she is, she attempts to make the ultimate statement by delivering herself an auto coup de grace.

But so naive is she in streetwisemanship, so unskilled at taking the ewe by the udder, that little Muffy even muffs her (albeit feeble) attempts at population reduction.

I feel really bad about all this and think (for old times sake) that we Yankees should share some of our legendary ingenuity by helping this "Melancholy Dame" attain her goal.

It's with great irreverence, therefore, that I suggest we tap our collective knowhow and imagination, and come up with a few really nifty ways to help the Princess meet the Reaper. No more of this wishy-washy carrot slicer business. No more spurious attempts with plastic butterknives. Let's help her do it right!

So if you would like to help Di accomplish her mission and you have some real killer ideas, please send them to me. We'd be sure to send the best ones to Buckingham Palace (or to Di's mum's house, or wherever she's presently parked).

Shamelessly yours,

Stephen D. Gross

Guerneville, Calif.

Dear Steve:

This is an easy one. Poison the hairspray.

Joe Bob,

This letter is in reference to your column about cats and dogs. I agree with you.

1. Ever take a cat for a ride in the car and have it stick its head out the window and look forward enjoying the wind?

2. Ever have a cat in the back of the pickup trying to stick its head in the slider window and wag its tail or stick its head around the cab with its tongue out?

3. And how about Chelsea inviting a few of the embassy kids over for brunch? In some of their countries cats are lunch and dinner.

4. What about a White House emergency? Will the cat meow, waking up Hillary so she can get Air Force One ready?

5. Will the cat patrol the White House grounds meowing at intruders? At least Ross P. would have put his horses in the front yard. Ever stick your fingers through the coral fence? Horses do bite!

5. And speaking of do, it stinks. Just when it looked like Bill was doing a National Recovery by reducing the White Staff, now the national debt is being increased by hiring two more green-card American horticulturists to clean the flower beds around the White House. More deficit spending. The CIA will pay their Social Security wages and the FBI will take all samples to the EPA labs for content analysis.

5. NO STARS, NO FU, NO DO, NO CATS!!!

Not a cat lover,

D. Guastavino

Belmont, Calif.

Dear D.:

And, worst of all, there's the Broadway play.

Dear Joe Bob--

I loved what you said about freedom of speech--freedom of speech, period. No exceptions! But hey, pretty soon if we don't watch out we won't be able to say ANYTHING, cause anything we say will offend SOMEONE and THAT isn't politically correct--what a bummer! Like Marge Schott--if she said dumb things--so what? I've got a Constitutional right (and so does she) to say any goldarn thing I want to. Don't I? You're my hero, Joe Bob. Wanna go out for a beer?

Keep up the good fight!

Love ya,

Susan Guastaferro

Buffalo, N.Y.

Dear Susan:

Free Marge Schott! Free Marge Schott!

I kinda like the sound of that myself.

Dear Joe,

My mother (born 1908) calls this morning in a FLUSH of excitement to tell me that something called "Vegas World" had sent her deceased husband (my stepfather) a cashier's check for $1,200, with offer of three nights and two days free hotel accommodation, $200 for casino gambling, $200 "table action," $400 for slot machine Jumbo Jackpot, AND $400 worth of free entries in the $1,000,000 slot tournament (fee of $100 per player per each and every day) in Las Vegas. Her comment, "I guess they think we don't deserve a THIRD DAY with the three nights."

You will observe that she reads carefully, even the "free" offers. She wants me to check with my lawyer about whether she can LEGALLY discard ("round file") the offer. CAREFUL is her operative word. In this day of AIDS, I thought you might be interested in this factor, in view of my current proposal and your longing for a fifth ex-wife.

Since my stepfather died in 1982, it seems unlikely that this offer TO HIM AND AN ACCOMPANYING FRIEND are immediately useable, PER SE. On the other hand, I suggested to mom that I act as a liaison between the two of you, and that YOU TAKE MY MOM TO VEGAS. She's a great dancer and a ready wit; albeit 10 p.m. movie viewings are past her caring. Think it over. You're unlikely to get a better (safer) offer!

She's a stalwart gambler. I remember once when she got a bad case of bursitis, flailing the cranker of the slot machine at the Officer's Club, Fitzsimmons General Hospital, Denver, Colorado in 1947. SHE CAN HANG IN THERE! And, with her propensity for snoozing, wouldn't mind being strapped upside down to a board--not if YOU thought it was FUN! Actually, she wouldn't much notice the splinters if you covered her over with an all-cotton quilt. She rates an "A+" in accommodation to bizarre male requests, IF MARITAL! Me, I'm not so compliant.

I think it kind of works into your "Samurai Dating" thing. In addition, mom was the wife of an AMERICAN BOARD CERTIFIED M.D. (PSYCHIATRY AND NEUROLOGY) FOR 48 YEARS AND NEVER BELIEVED A WORD OF IT! I know you'll be elated to hear that she could "script" an action there, OFF THE CUFF, for "Couples Therapy," BUT CHOOSES NOT TO. As I said, endurance is her long suit.

Let me know by return mail, as her hand is hovering over the trash can.

Tally-ho, You Silly Bastard! (said with affection)

Kay Lee Wrage Gunn

Dallas

Dear Kay Lee:

I accept. Any free trip to Vegas is an acceptable trip to Vegas. I would go even if the vacation included watching Ruth Buzzi's act.

Hell, I'd go even if required to go WITH Ruth Buzzi.

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