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''You'll figure that out. The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you. ''
A movie star with a sense of emptiness, and a neglected newlywed meet up as strangers in Tokyo, Japan and form an unlikely bond.
Scarlett Johansson: Charlotte
Bill Murray: Bob Harris
Lost In Translation examines and explores the intricate web of love, life and loneliness, the restricted nature, the incessant insomnia and the weird out of place feeling of being in an alien place, where you feel like you are the only one of you're kind. The loneliness that evolves from being in essence solitary. The enigmatic possibility of a dream that meeting someone will awaken lost emotions and unlock memories. This is what life is about and Lost In Translation shows us like a flower blooming, coating us with it's sensual pollen and messages.
The characters here are believable. Their dialogue is deep. The setting is dreamy and breath taking. It's all tirelessly fascinating because we can all relate to the spaces on offer and it involves us in ways that most films don't.
We the audience find ourselves drawn to every moment these two kindred spirits experience, together and apart. We are mesmerized, hypnotized even, by the glances, nuances and words they share.
Sofia Coppola successfully juggles Bob and Charlotte in their separate lives at first, but when they do meet, it's something out of this world. They begin to adventure out into the chaos and endless possibilty of Tokyo, and Lost In Translation almost takes on a perspective altogether altered from it's previous state. We saw Bob Harris and Charlotte at their most private and vulnerable, their inward lonely selfs. While out on the town, the film seems to sit back and just let them have fun. Thank God, for Bill Murray's rousing rendition of Elvis Costello's "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding" is a riot. During this period, it seems that Bob and Charlotte have forgotten their insomnia and loneliness, but as they say nothing lasts forever. Even during their night on the town, we see moments where they sit silently, motionless and still some what confused. Lost In Translation is a comedy in some sense, but it escalates into a pervading tragic feel of seperation. At one point, Charlotte says to Bob: "Let's never come back here again, because it will never be as much fun."
The movie takes a while to truly glean out the deep-seated motivations of both of its characters, but they become fully-realized in a marvelous scene where Bob and Charlotte lay fully-clothed in bed together. Here, they handle the bigger questions in life's game, and not "Where did you go to uni?" or "What did you want to be when you were small?" but "What is my purpose?" and "Does marraige get easier?". I was intrigued at the sheer honesty of the character's answers. Bob relates to Charlotte the experience of having children and the ongoing struggles of being married, but a tinge of fear and apprehension runs through his speech. Charlotte hasn't really figured things out for herself at present, she says she's tried just about everything but hasn't found that doorway to venture through.
Coppola's screenplay takes these two separate beings, far apart in age and experiences, and makes a profound statement, both are in the same exact emotional limbo, and unending cycle. Charlotte is confused and worried, but Bob is regretful and washed-up. In a way, these two as said earlier are kindred spirits, two flames destined to meet. That is the heart and pumping blood of Sofia Coppola's vision.
I couldn't finish my review without saying or putting something about another star behind the scenes of Lost In Translation, that is nearly as effective to the film as Director/Screenwriter Sophia Coppola. That is cinematographer Lance Acord. He has worked on Coppola's husband's (Adaptation, Being John Malkovich director Spike Jonze) films before, but this is his finest, most beautiful work yet. He captures Japan, and the film's characters, with such a soft albeit colourfully sensual and abstract flare that it's nearly inexplicable to describe. I often wondered why, beyond the fact that they have so much to think about, Bob and Charlotte, are seen staring out windows so much. If they see Tokyo with the same resolute clarity that Lost In Translation perceives, they have no better reason to.
It has great comedic flair with Murray's wonderful work, but it's also perhaps one of the saddest and most moving films I've seen Murray ever do also.
It's a form of a romance but it's not in the form of when they'll kiss or when they'll make love (one kiss on the cheek becomes unbearably mind blowing in ways that transcend to love proportions). It also has that Affair to Remember vibe too, where the journey of two souls that find comfort will eventually have to come to an end. Its finish though, defies categorization, as does the rest of Lost In Translation. Many times during the film's quaint, quietly moving finale, I expected lush music to start playing to underscore the escalating sadness of the film. Fortunately it doesn't do this to us. Coppola simply lets her two amazing leads do all the necessary work. When the film does arrive at its final, ambiguous moment, it all just seems perfect.
The catchy Japan pop soundtrack that runs brilliantly throughout the film begins to play, and I find myself with a huge regret, that being that I won't be able to savour the subtle chemistry of Bob and Charlotte anymore, but content with the taste of a masterpiece still residing in my mind.
Some things do get Lost In Translation, but sometimes words aren't the only thing that require translating, sometimes your heart can be the hardest translation of all and finding yourself can be even harder.
10/10
