Ah, the glories of prostitution....

I hated the movie Pretty Woman, because it glorified prostitution (and because watching Richard Gere "act" is like watching the sweet, human side of Night of the Living Dead); and I found the book Memoirs of a Geisha too artsy-fartsy to be readable. I therefore enjoyed reading Debbie Schlussel's take-down of the movie "Memoirs of a Giesha":

Hollywood needs to change its name to Greater Absurdia. It's not news that, these days, it's putting out movies in which the outrageous is the heroic; the heroic is outrageous; and prostitutes are our new moral heroes. Except we're supposed to be fooled into thinking a prostitute isn't, in fact, a prostitute at all. Instead, she's a classy lady to be venerated, glorified, and even emulated. That's the case with 'Memoirs of a Geisha,' out in some theaters over the weekend, with subsequent roll-outs in theaters nationwide. This movie is a case of the Emperor wears no clothing. Only she's a geisha. And she's wearing an eight-layer kimono, instead. Until she takes it all off for her wealthy Japanese patron of the night. This movie, based on the best-selling novel of the same name, could have been called, 'How I Became a High-Class Prostitute.' But calling a spade a spade wouldn't sell as well to the elite, self-anointed culturatti crowd with whom a little exoticism goes a long way in excusing the inexcusable. (They couldn't even get the 'exoticism' right, using Chinese actresses for all the Japanese women in this movie. They tell US it's racist to confuse these two Asian nationalities, but no prob when liberal moviemakers do it in the name of helping us understand the glories of prostitution.) Director Rob Marshall claims this film is a 'women's epic.' What's next--porn stars as the new epic heroines?"