Lost in Translation: A Mastery of Mood

Rating: Null/10 (8 February 2004)

Very rarely does an independent film have enough star power, acclaim, or universal appeal to make its way into mainstream cinema. So what's so special about Lost in Translation that's made it stick around in theatres up to five months after its initial release? The answer is as ubiquitous as the movie itself: its mastery of mood. Just like Amelie thrived in developing a quirky, yet relatable character, and The Graduate's classic story both shocked and inspired, Lost in Translation works in the beautiful, yet less common medium of mood.
The movie follows two main characters who are temporarily staying in Japan, one who is there to film a whiskey endorsement, and another who is accompanying her husband on a promotional photo shoot. Bob is a middle-aged, American actor with a quickly fading career, a role which Bill Murray uncannily fits. His life has come to a halt, and his character is left to drift among what's left of his past career. Scarlett Johansen plays Charlotte, a young woman who is similarly drifting between her new marriage, her identity, and finding a solid career. The two meet at a hotel bar one evening, and instantaneously connect. While some may argue it is love, I like to believe their parallel situations join them in a spiritual connection, more so than a sexual or emotional one. They found in each other a hope to continue on with their own lives, an assurance that they would not simply 'drift' forever. Their relationship, however, was not the movie's only selling point.
Lost in Translation was quick to immerse its viewers in a world that religiously equated noise with annoyance, and silence with beauty. This is where its solemn, disconnected mood enters the picture, as though the audience was simply drifting through the lives of these characters. Although we are in essence within this strange and foreign country, we are never made to feel completely a part of it. The city skyline overwhelms us, anything with too much energy drains instead of invigorates, everything is heard but never understood. Characters such as the actress Charlotte's husband is hired to photograph, based on the perky Cameron Diaz, and places such as crowded nightclubs and arcades come across as sharp and unnerving, threatening to pop Bob and Charlotte's bubble of detached solace. This is what gives Lost in Translation its legendary power.
But why a Golden Globe for comedy? Sure, the movie had its humorous moments, but they were not for the purpose of sheer entertainment. They served to add to the bizarre surroundings in which the characters often found themselves. Although such scenes as the call girl mishap were certainly not acted as comedy, they should not be regarded in complete stolidity, either. They're kind of like the practical joke that's played on you and is only funny in retrospect.
Lost in Translation may not be anything new or revolutionary, but it certainly is good at what it does. This movie will leave you with a perspective that is sure to make its mark in filmmaking history. A-