LOST IN TRANSLATON (Sofia Coppola, 2003) 65 (first viewing: 64)

Reviewed: August 13th, 2003

Sofia Coppola's uneasy blending of broad, fish-outta-water comedy (however funny) and stabs at profundity is not entirely successful: the humor ends up working better than the gravity since the script is too underdeveloped, most of the characters too crudely etched to make a forceful impression. At heart Lost In Translation is a dual character study cut from the Brief Encounter cloth: Scarlett Johansson (intriguing as ever, but a touch too young for her role) as aimless, post-college bride meets Bill Murray as washed-up action star. Murray's performance is the highlight of the film with Sofia attempting to -- just like Wes has done previous to more moving effect -- capture the sadness and desperation that Murray's humor always seems to mask. But Sofia doesn't push far enough and too often she seems to lazily fill in gaps by allowing Murray to let loose with his (granted) amusing shtick. It's the difference between a good movie and a great one, just as Sofia the writer has a tendency to hint at promising angles (jealously and unacknowledged sexual attraction; marriages that slowly drift downstream like a raft on an ostensibly placid lake), only to promptly abandon them. Behind the camera Sofia has the keen eye of a photographer, and while her compositions can be gorgeous, disappointing is her and cinematographer Lance Acord's decision to shoot the film as grainy and naturalistic as possible, a decision which often prevents Lost In Translation from capturing the exotic, intoxicating beauty of a foreign locale like Tokyo. Granted Sofia is after something deeper, try as she does to hint at the suffocation the exotica can lead to -- the alienation of a stranger in a strange land and the tremulous connections we sometimes make as a result -- but she frequently undermines whatever lovely and mysterious effect is being achieved by inserting characters like Anna Faris's ridiculous blond bimbo, who feel like they belong in another film. (Likewise Murray's wife is a crass, glib, exactly-what-you'd-expect picture of an unfeeling spouse.) If I am being extra hard on Lost In Translation it's because Sofia can become a major talent: while LIT might not be as accomplished as The Virgin Suicides (which gave Sofia a hearty novel to work from), its freedom and its many graceful passages (which offset the clumsier ones) and its ability to deliver scenes as entrancing as the karaoke set piece, lead to another solid entry in a career that could become as promising as the elder Coppola's once was.

[Second viewing, 9.18.03: Still wildly over-praised by the elite Opinion Police (to steal Wells's phrase), though I like it a little bit more now. Condescending humor no longer funny to me (Murray purposefully stops the shower head when it reaches shoulder level just so they can get the gag in, lip my stocking scene embarrassingly idiotic, etc.), but I realize maybe that's the point. The movie's about the inadequacy of Murray's responses, be it the early comedy (which Murray doesn't find funny either, just frustrating), Murray thinking he can solve his malaise by eating healthier, or Scarlett approaching him with messy emotions ("I'll miss you," she says and all he can do is shrug in response). Most importantly: on first viewing I found their bed chat to be too obvious, but now I realize it's both cryptic and appropriately insufficient. Scarlett tells Murray she sucks at writing, Murray mumbles back "Keep writing." Scarlett tells Murray she's mean, all he can reply is "Mean is good." The karaoke set piece is so entrancing because it's the one time the characters make a concerted stab at happiness; they fail, of course, and the whole movie struck me as even more melancholy this time around. Ending with the uplifting (though still somewhat ambiguous) street finale instead of the lobby departure makes sense: it's the only time Murray tries for adequacy (complication = just how helpful can you really be with a terse sentence whispered in someone's ear?). Still no escaping how revolting Sofia's supporting caricatures are (including Scarlett's friend from home), still a solid film in a minor key.]

Return home.