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Posts Tagged ‘subtitiles’

It was one of those perfectly fortuitous sets of circumstances that very rarely come your way.
The Tenerife Espacio de las Artes (TEA) in Santa Cruz were screening Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds in its original language at 7pm and we were collecting Jo from Santa Cruz bus station at around 9.30/10pm. So we were off to the movies and would be out in perfect time to meet Jo.Inglourious Basterds

We arrived at TEA a tad on the tardy side and most of the seats in the small auditorium were already taken leaving just the neck breaking first 3 rows.
There were no frills – after all the TEA were screening the movie free of charge in celebration of their first anniversary – no popcorn or ice cream and no trailers. The lights went down and we were straight into the action.

It’s a laudable feature of the film that everyone speaks in their own language which means that much of the dialogue is in French, German and English with a soupçon of Italian thrown in for good measure. With all the subtitles in Spanish, it was proving to be quite an exercise in understanding and gave rise to a sort of Mexican Wave effect when it came to laughs. So, for example, when the dialogue was in English, the Brits would be laughing while the rest of the audience were still reading the subtitles. The same happened for the Germans and the French with the biggest laugh wave always coming from the Spanish for whom the whole movie was in subtitles.  It was a weird and wonderful feeling of being European and sharing a cinema with other Europeans – a camaraderie of multi lingual communication that felt warm and inclusive.

At a fairly critical point in the movie, the mobile started to intone its jaunty you have mail jingle and Jack nervously slid it from his pocket, trying desperately to muffle it with his hands, before finally remembering how to switch it off, which it did with another jaunty see ya later jingle. Interestingly, the Spanish don’t say shush or hush, they give a cross between a tut and a hiss that comes out like bursts of air escaping from a punctured tyre and is very effective at deflating a sense of camaraderie.

The curtain fell to spontaneous applause shortly after 9.30 pm and Jack switched the mobile back on to a series of text-received jingles.
It would seem that Jo’s flight had landed early so she’d decided to get the earlier bus and had been sitting in a bar in Puerto de la Cruz since 9.15 pm. It was now 9.40 pm and Jack and I were in Santa Cruz.

Quentin Tarantino can re-write history, present it to audiences in four different languages and make us all feel part of an inclusive society.
Jack, Jo and I rarely manage even the simplest of arrangements effectively, despite a shared first language and fortuitous circumstances

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