Movie Review: Lost in Translation
Lost In Translation has Bill Murray as a Japandering American has-been going through a midlife crisis who has a brief fling with a fresh-faced young American girl while both of them are stuck in Japan and avoiding their spouses.
It didn’t take me long to see why this movie was such a hit with the critics. On the surface, it’s a complete ripoff of American Beauty. A show about a middle-aged guy who discovers that he can still be interesting to a hot young girl, hang out with the dope-smoking crowd, and generally have his cake and eat it too; is sure to be a hit with movie critics who tend to identify with Murray/Spacey’s characters. A number of sub-themes seemed to be ripped from American Beauty, too. Lost In Translation has the additional advantage of playing heavily on western fantasies and clichesabout oriental sexuality, nearly as blatantly as Jeremy Irons in Chinese Box.
On the other hand, once I got past the crass critic-fishing techniques, I discovered that there was more to this film than formula. For starters, the music was fantastic. And the composition, tone, and expressiveness of the cinematic technique was really good. There was not a single jarring or incongruous scene. Even the obligatory club shots, so in-your-face in movies like Blade or Matrix, were smooth and subtle, with room for emotion.
The events of the film take place in Japan, so they are different, but at the same time very normal. The characters react and behave believably, and nothing happens that could be considered to be incredible or extraordinary. To some, this could seem to be boring or slow-paced. However, the tension in the film is provided by the developing relationship between the two main characters. The two characters dance delicately around their situation, and the true meaning of their hearts is never known or expressed definitively. But the uncertain nature of the relationship is juxtaposed by the magnitude of its potential consequences, both brutal and magnificent. The drama never happens, but the real drama is in what might happen. It was a masterful and impactful rendition of an experience that rarely gets captured properly on film.
The focus on the subtle emotional interplay of an otherwise mundane situation, wrapped in the context of being displaced in a new and foreignlocation, reminded me a bit of the Malcom McLaren “Paris” emotionalized recollections. So I was not surprised to find that Sofia Coppola intended Lost In Translation to capture some of her memories of working in Tokyo when younger. I don’t know how accurately it captures her memories, but it certainly reminds me of how I would be remembering something if I was remembering that.
There were tons of interesting cinematic devices listed. A couple mentions. Long stretches being unable to understand anything, surrounded by thousands of voices but all unintelligible,shifting between local and global focus, at the same time isolated and crowded. Another, the focus on Bill Murray’s tired, drooping face — everything pointed down, looking in mirrors, a reminder of his reality and the weight of his age — this was used very effectively to highlight his conflicted approach to the developing relationship.