I recently had a long discussion with a Japanese friend about how drastically different the image of a 'cool' Japanese guy is from a 'cool' American. Even after a year and a half in Japan, I've always wondered, who are these long-haired, dark-tanned, designer suit-wearing, effeminate-seeming men who prowl the downtown intersections hitting on every other female who happens by? I've heard theories ranging from 'students just looking for some female companionship' to 'Yakuza recruiting for their newest sex clubs.' But by far the most common theory has indicated that these persistent young trend-setters must be what's often referred to as 'Hosts'.

Well, by total coincidence I stumbled on a fascinating documentary this weekend that shed quite a bit of light on the subject.
Many people have heard of Japan's hostess clubs, places where men of any age can go and pay exorbitant amounts of money to sit and chat with attractive young females. To most Westerners, this sounds like a ludicrous notion - who would pay $50 an hour for simple conversation? But what you've got to keep in mind is that the Japanese social and labor systems are very different from those in the US, often leaving workers so tired and stressed, even miserable, that the prospect of having a gorgeous twenty-year-old lavish them with attention is worth virtually any price tag. I've actually known one or two hostesses during my time in Japan, and the way they always answer the question 'What do hostesses actually do?' is 'We sell dreams.' For as long as the customer pays his bill the girls hang on his every word, laugh at his every joke, pour his drinks, light his cigarettes, and treat him like he's the richest, most famous movie star in Japan. And even though he knows deep down that it's all just for show, he's perfectly okay with it - because at that moment he is happy.

If you think about it, things really aren't all that different in the US. Whenever we pay $10 to see a movie about a criminal genius stealing millions of dollars, we're suspending disbelief - we're shutting out the real world and projecting ourselves temporarily into the fake but entertaining world that's being presented before us. Whenever we turn on a video game and plow down alien spaceships with our mouse and keyboard we're doing something that everyone knows is impossible, yet it still offers some release from whatever troubles we may be having back in the real world. And whenever we read a book about climbing Mount Everest we're satisfying a curiosity about what it might be like to climb the world's highest mountain, even though actually doing so may be well out of our physical or financial reach. This is precisely what Japanese hostess bars provide to their male customers: the ability to feel what it's like, even if just for the 2-hour length of a movie, to be the most popular guy around.
But then, what about the hostesses themselves, staying awake night after night trying to come up with new ways to convince their balding, run-down customers that they're the sexiest men alive? For the hostesses, there are hosts - who just like their female counterparts accept copious amounts of money to provide a place to laugh, play, or just relax after a hard day (or night)'s work. The women buy themselves a prize-winning prince charming of their very own, a man who will say just what they need to hear, just when they want to hear it. And just like the hostess clubs, the amounts of cash running through these host bars can be staggering. But who cares? After all, the hostess probably got paid that same amount just one night earlier.

It's really an interesting and strange feedback cycle that I never even knew existed, but the more I think about it the more sense it seems to make. Just as an entrepreneur reinvests his earnings to expand his business, these young hosts spend their money on Armani suits, Dolce & Gabbana belts, and Prada bags to make themselves look 'cooler' for their female customers; to grow their businesses and advertise their products: themselves.

For those who are interested, the documentary through which I learned all about this strange underworld is called 'The Great Happiness Space: Tale of an Osaka Love Thief.' Check it out on Google Video - a quick search should turn up a copy of the full hour-long feature.

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