Lost in Translation (2003)
“For relaxing times, make it Suntory time...”
Sofia Coppola’s second feature film is a remarkable achievement. Having watched Lost in Translation (2003) again last night, I’m adding it to my all-time Top Ten film list, which placing it in some pretty impressive company, including the likes of Nic Roeg, Woody Allen, Roman Polanski, and Joseph Losey.
If you’ve ever been away on business, you should identify with Lost in Translation. The jet lag, the transience, the sense of disoriented alienation, a taxi from the airport, the blandness of international ‘luxury’ hotels and duty-free: the mini-bar, the television set with God Knows how many channels, a sea of carpet, beige- and safe, inoffensive modernism.
Bill Murray’s Bob Harris is a jaded, fifty-something, washed-out movie star making a television commercial for the Japanese whisky brand, Suntory. Scarlett Johansson’s Charlotte is a twenty-something Yale graduate, married to a shallow celebrity photographer (‘he’s not the man I married, he uses hair products’), both holed up in the Park Hyatt, Tokyo. Sofia Coppola liked “the idea of a preppy girl having a breakdown”, loosely inspired by J. D. Salinger’s character Franny in Franny and Zooey (1961): two lonely souls trapped in sterile marriages, an unconsummated love story between a sensitive man and a sensitive woman of different age and different background, thrown together by fate, finding solace amidst the chaos of modern life.
And I see it very much as a touching love story, especially watching Charlotte’s reaction to Bob’s infidelity with a ghastly cabaret singer (‘Midnight at the Oasis, put your camel to bed…’), although Sofia Coppola reckons that Bob and Charlotte's relationship is "supposed to be romantic but on the edge. ... [A] little bit more than friends but not an actual romance. ... To me, it's pretty un-sexual between them—innocent and romantic, and a friendship”.
And that’s more or less the plot, for unlike your bog-standard rom-com, Lost in Translation is more about subtle characterisation, pitched against the fascinating, if alien, Japanese setting- with comic elements. Lost in Translation has also been criticised for stereotyping Japanese culture, which, in my opinion, misses the point- the film is seen from the point of view of two Americans (most probably) on their first visit to Japan. It’s an honest interpretation. As an Englishman on my very first visit to Manhattan- at the end of the 80s- I can most certainly remember a sense of cultural alienation, from the shaded narrow streets flanked by immense skyscrapers to the numerous hard-sell television channels, the rudeness of the hotel staff and the horror of the doggy bag; and the sense of a ramshackle Gotham City, with steam hissing from vents and huge potholes in the streets. Don’t get me wrong. I love New York. But that’s how I saw it on my first visit.
And Lost in Translation is a stunningly visual film with superb cinematography, shot in natural light on a low budget by Lance Acord- and without permit on the streets of Tokyo. From the opening shot of Scarlett’s shapely derrière, we know we’re in for a visual treat- Sofia Coppola based the shot on John Kacere’s photorealistic painting Jutta (1973), a reproduction of which also appears on Charlotte’s hotel room wall: "I don't have a really good reason for it", Coppola said when asked to explain the shot. "It's just how I wanted to start the movie. I liked having a hint of the character- a sweet, young girl waiting around in her hotel room- and then go into the story…” Which just goes to show that critics often read in far too much for film; reminding me of Polanski’s take on a mistake in Bitter Moon (1992): ‘There was no reason, it just felt right to include it…’
I’m a huge fan of Scarlett (she-who-can-do-no-wrong), and she’s perfect casting for Charlotte- the camera loves her- as is Bill Murray’s lined, world-weary Bob Harris: the man who’s seen it all before. If ever a pairing works- and sometimes it’s hard to explain why- it’s this one. The critics- for once- agreed, with Roger Ebert adding Lost in Translation to his ‘great movies’ list and Quentin Tarantino including it in his list of Top Twenty films released since 1992.
Funny, sad, melancholy, sardonic, touching, wise- and visually beautiful, Lost in Translation (2003) is a more than worthy addition to the Luke Honey WEEKEND FLICKS film archive. If you haven’t seen it yet, I would advise you to do so immediately. It’s a wonderful film. As you’ve probably gathered I like it a lot.
Lost in Translation (2003) is available to watch via DVD, Blu-Ray and digital download on Amazon Prime Video. You’ve just been reading a newsletter for both free and 'paid-for' subscribers. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to all those of you who have signed up so far. Really appreciated.
Two options on Luke Honey’s WEEKEND FLICKS. Cinema for Grown Ups: ‘Paid-for’ subscribers get an extra exclusive film recommendation every Friday morning, plus full access to the complete archive- which should list over a hundred films by the end of the year. It costs £5 a month (or £50 a year)- a bargain, frankly, when you compare it to a few cups of coffee or a pint of beer in the pub. ‘Free’ subscribers get access to the Sunday newsletter, plus the ‘free subscriber’ films in the archive. Either option’s a good bet.
In the meantime, have a relaxing and cinematic Sunday…
I am sorry about that post. I like Luke Honey and his Substack writing very much.
Yep, she most definitely can do no wrong. Which, when you consider her ‘looks’, is pretty remarkable. I can only think of a few other actors, both male and female, whom the camera loves so much, and yet their looks only ever complement their acting talent, and not serve as distraction.
Plus, of course, wise career choices, too, which historically, hasn’t always been the case with the beautiful (and the damned) who litter so many poor films.
All the same, I have mixed feelings about this particular film, though, Luke, but that’s for another time, another place. But, as ever, your review is as fine as ever.
Thanks!