Planet Hollywood, the restaurant chain that boasts shareholder Arnold Schwarznegger among its claims to fame, opened its doors to the public on Wednesday with nary a whimper of publicity. The official opening is to come later. When I arrived on Thursday for a quick nosey around, I was half afraid that journalist radars might detect my presence and I would be frog-marched from the premises by Terminator 9 1/2. I needn't have worried - instead I was collared by four supernaturally friendly folk in baseball caps who wondered if I'd like to come in and look at the restaurant and the lovely merchandise. Ah, merchandise, the M word, the raison d'etre of these restaurant chains. A quick look at Planet Hollywood's offerings revealed that for the price of a round of drinks, I too could buy into the dream with a super Planet Hollywood mug. Or why not mortgage the house and go for a leather jacket as worn by Arnie (and indeed Bertie) himself?
Is it just me, or does anyone else feel that there's something so very 1980s about being flogged merchandise along with your burger and fries? Certainly, it was during the 1980s that queues started to form outside any newly opened Hard Rock Cafe.
Ireland, however, has been blessedly free of these ultimately consumerist venues, with the few that exist (Thunder Road Cafe, All-Star Sports Cafe) confined to Temple Bar where the tourists seem to like them.
Now, however, Planet Hollywood has arrived - even the name seems to imply some sort of world domination. Certainly, they now dominate a side of the Stephen's Green that was previously identified by the College of Surgeons, complete with the bullet holes of 1916. History, pah! This is Hollywood, and who would want a reminder of the founding of the State when they could look at a Klingon Sword as used in Star Trek, Pierce Brosnan's shirt from Remington Steele or Joanna Lumley's stockings from the New Avengers.
Inside, it's just as well there is all this bounty to look at as you'll do precious little talking. Anybody who was dining on Arnie's mother's renowned apple strudel and Demi Moore's favourite crunchy chicken ("grilled to remove fat until chicken is a cinder. Only 3 calories"), was speechless. Fair enough, not everybody's idea of a good night out is a family row or a discussion on which Teletubby is which. However, in Planet Hollywood any conversation at all is difficult when you're competing against a dozen large film screens showing a looped reel of trailers with footage of Arnie wearing the merchandise, Bruce and Demi wearing the merchandise, Whoopi wearing . . . You get the message?
I staggered out a little dazed, grinning helplessly at the endless happy people who looked me straight in the eye and said "How you doing?" At last, I was out in the fresh air and the final coup de grace was delivered: "Did you get a chance to look at our merchandise?" Yes, indeed I did. It was quite unavoidable.