Death to the musical

On my way to the train station yesterday, I was walking behind this old guy who was singing this beautiful song in Japanese at the top of his lungs. As his voice echoed down the platform, everyone stopped to look in a curious, slightly stunned way - it was one of those rare moments where something slightly strange seeps into everyday life and somehow makes the day better. As I listened to him sing until the train pulled in, it made me think "this guy is living in his own musical... Goddamn, I hate musicals." It's true, I hate them except for the Blues Brothers and the South Park movie.

Grease? Never seen it. Moulin Rouge? Worst film I've ever seen in a cinema. Annie? Despite my girlfriend's uncanny resemblance to an adult little orphan Annie, hate it. I haven't even seen Dirty Dancing because I suspect it's a musical even though I'm assured it's not. While I love music, the combination of music and film makes me unreasonably angry and I'm not really sure why. Maybe the thought of going about your every day business only to be confronted by a big song and dance number weirds me out. However, in the context of the old Japanese man singing at the platform station, I let him finish his song before I called security...

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