What Does “Quantum of Solace” Actually Mean???

Thursday brought with it a leak in the kitchen. An annoying “drip drip” that Trofie Wife at first mistook for rain (and went unnoticed by Martello during his rapid-fire breakfast) turned out to be responsible for a massive infusion of water. The entire window side of the kitchen ceiling was sopping wet, with rivulets of water (sometimes yellow water— bizarre) falling alternately on the stove, the floor, and Trofie Wife whenever she attempted to get near the sink or stove. I scrounged around the house for water collectors and came up with a mop, a bucket, and some rank-looking towels under the sink. It was determined the following day that the source of the leak was the upstairs radiator. Our landlady resolved the issue, and by Monday morning (yesterday) the ceiling was nearly dry.

The day was otherwise spent beside the computer, but the night ended at the local cinema, where Martello and I went to see the new James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace, dubbed into Italian. Now Trofie Wife is not usually one for this genre of film, but we figured that given its heavy focus on bullets and the bedroom, it could be easily understood without the use of language. Martello had originally proposed seeing it the week before, but Trofie Wife thought he would prefer trying to catch in it English (Martello agreed that there are usually witty one-liners that he wouldn’t want to miss). So we decided to go see it at one of the “original language” theatres in downtown Genoa, where Anglophone films can be viewed on Mondays and Thursdays. However, as Thursday night approached and Trofie Wife’s running nose grew more annoying, she gently coaxed Martello into staying local and watching the movie in the dubbed Italian at the theatre just down the road from the apartment (says Martello, “You were the one who suggested that we see it in English. I was originally fine with seeing it in Italian.”).

Anticipating New York-style lines for some reason on a Thursday evening in Arenzano, we arrived 30 minutes early, bought our tickets (11 euros total! That’s barely one ticket in NYC!), small popcorn (2 euros; sadly, there are no combo deals, although bottled sodas are available), and then sat in front of the ginormous dinosaur statue until the theatre doors opened. Yes, you heard me: ginormous dinosaur statue that looks liked it was plucked from the set of Jurassic Park. This theatre is perhaps one of the most adorable in the world. The whole outside grounds are covered with mini amusement rides for children and two little huts where you can sit with your drink (or possibly host a birthday party; we did notice balloon remnants). In addition to the ginormous T-Rex, there is a fancy classic model car and a wide assortment of old movie posters from Italy and the United States. The cinema also appears to host lectures on film and other related arts. The actual movie was mostly followable, though the reel did stop mid-play twice; luckily, the projectionist got it going again. Even better, when we returned home, we were able to Wikipedia the movie and read the plotline in English (oh, how we adore the Internet!). Turns out we understood most of it, and the main confusion was elicited not by the Italian but by our lack of facility with the plot of the 2006 Bond flick, Casino Royale, due to the fact that Trofie Wife hadn’t seen it and Martello isn’t big on detail (or total) recall.

As one final treat—perhaps a reward for sitting through an action flick—when we returned home, Trofie Wife turned on the TV and found none other than a dubbed Sex and the City on one of the more staticy channels! (This occurrence was especially exciting as it was around 11:30 p.m. when she flipped on the tube—the same time when reruns air in NYC.) It was the episode where Carrie has to buy her apartment or vacate, and Charlotte ends up giving her the engagement ring from Trey so she can put together a down payment. Turns out that even with our handful of channels we do have access to reinterpreted American fare! Martello was quick to point out that Carrie’s voice was dubbed way too deep, and Trofie Wife noticed that Steve did not sound whiney (but still adorable!) enough. Yet we both agreed that the voice casting for Big was right on. Perhaps he should have been Italian all along…

Baci e gelato,

Martello e Trofie Wife