MOONSPINNERS

My father taught me to say two things in Greek. The first one is poe-say-ka-nee. You use it in the marketplace: poe-say-ka-nee! Then you say: poe-leh-ah-kra-voh and you shake your head a little bit. These are the only two things you have to know in Greek, my father told me. The first one means “How much?” You’re talking to the vendor in the marketplace. He picks up the object you’ve pointed to in his booth. It doesn’t matter what he says in response. You don’t have to understand him. Then you use the second phrase, poe-leh-ah-kra-voh, which means “Too much.” You keep saying it, “Too much, too much,” and he’ll keep bidding and you keep saying “Too much,” until he puts the object down, which means he’s given his final bid, at which point you hold out your hand with your palm full of money. You don’t have to understand the money. He’ll only take from you the last bid that he offered. He doesn’t want to rip you off; he just wants you to haggle properly to show mutual respect.

My father spent time on the Island of Crete. He said the people there are completely honest. They do not know about stealing. Maybe it is different in big cities, my father says, but in the remote parts on the island, he used to throw his wallet and his watch on the dashboard of his car and go down to the beach for a swim. Why would we take your things, his Greek friends would ask; they do not belong to us. I think times have changed for the Island of Crete since my father’s time there. Disney’s movie, THE MOONSPINNERS, would not exist without the turmoil caused by a jewel thief and a fugitive.

THE MOONSPINNERS is a Disney non-classic girl movie. The lady librarian where I borrowed the tape said it was her favorite movie when she was growing up. I had a feeling that maybe it still is her favorite movie. It has action, adventure, and daring of an adolescent who puts herself in harm’s way so she can grow up. She spends a night out among the ancient ruins with a dashing young man who’s running from the law and for his life. He’s a wanted man, but it’s all very innocent, Disneyesque. Not even naked photographs are exchanged.

The thing I find curious is the old custom of looking up a fellow countryman in a foreign land. A British girl and her Aunt arrive in this little far away village and immediately they try to make contact with a fellow native-English speaker. (Don’t you travel to get away from what you know?) Okay, maybe in the old days when people didn’t travel so much, maybe that was part of common courteousy, like saying hello…but today? Today if you find another American with whom you were not previously acquainted—stay away from that guy! Franz Boas is dead. Traveling has turned to empirical science with an agenda of expectation, not surprise or exploration for the sake of exploration.

“This is Bay Street. You will shop here,” the surrey driver kept repeating in the Bahamas. I didn’t obey him. I had the notion to walk to Fort Fin Castle. It was just up the hill; I could see it. Why not walk there? Well, for one thing, the sidewalks don’t connect. You can’t take a simple pedestrian stance from the cruise ship port to the fortress in any kind of straight path. Furthermore, as you start walking, you lose sight of the water tower, which is adjacent to your goal. Down on street level, you can’t see what you’re aiming for. And you have to keep crossing and recrossing streets to find one that doesn’t look like you’re going to be mugged to walk up it. I couldn’t hide the fact that I’m American; what I could do was affect the look that I’d already lost my American Express card. A little disheveled, a little disheartened, sweating, hair frazzled. This aspect is not difficult to accomplish. I encountered one man walking down the street randomly begging, but he was begging to everyone and to no one, sort of mumbling off in the air while his hand was extended, palm up. I witnessed a drug transaction, but that was very quick. Other than that, I made it to the base of the Queen’s steps and found the first three of them buried under trash. The walk back was much easier because I could see my ship all the way down the hill, and plus from the Fort vantage, I was able to plot a better course. It was a little off of a direct route, but it went straight to Bay Street, and from there I knew I’d be okay.

But then I recall a time in Germany, in not a tourist town in Germany. I knew someone; we went to his friend’s place. She wasn’t American, she was Canadian, so maybe this doesn’t count. Mostly her apartment was filled with Germans. She was having a party. Her parents, I guess, were concerned about her in another country and so far away from them. She had made these appetizers and stuck little Canadian flags on toothpicks all in the little bites, then when everyone had a miniature maple leaf flag in hand, she took a picture to send to her mom, like everyone there was Canadian! Hi Mom. She was the only Canadian. I was one of three Americans. The rest were Germans. Okay, so maybe this custom does happen in remote areas today, but not in tourist areas. Okay, so maybe that does work. I talked myself into it.

The thing that kills THE MOONSPINNERS is too much monologuing, too much. THE MOONSPINNERS is made from a book of the same title, and there’s too much of the book in the movie. While static shots and paragraphs of single character lines may have been common practice of older films, I cite the lack of these elements as an improvement to modern movie making. This movie is slow in a no passing zone. Even the chase scene is slow. It may have enough love interest to sustain an audience of pre-teen girls, but I doubt it would hold the attention of boys in this day or the past. Poe-leh-ah-kra-voh.