So Far Yet So Close...

Rating: 9/10 (24 April 2017)

Twelve years ago, I stopped "Lost in Translation" right in the middle because nothing "happened". Now, I'm married, I have a child and I'm as close in age to Bob (Bill Murray) as to Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), I'm in a position to contemplate the passing of time as deeply as they do and to appreciate Sofia Coppola's bittersweet romance. I guess they call this 'maturity.
Using a hackneyed reviewer's observation, this is one of the film where the setting plays like a central character, I've never been to Japan but from what I heard from friends, it's one of these places so remote from the rest of the world that they seem unreachable even when you stepped your feet on it. From the language to the frenetic and culturally engulfing technology that still spared a few peaceful philosophical and cultural remains, a year of immersion would still make you feel like an alien, let alone a "trip".
And the two central protagonists don't even care for immersion, Bob is here for professional reasons, he's one of these obsolete stars coping with the decline of their fame even if it means selling your soul to some Japanese brand, the awkwardness is a small price when millions are at stakes, and Japan is so far away Many stars like Harrison Ford or Alain Delon indulged themselves to such compromising stunts, with a face that said, "Drink this whiskey" but in subtext you could read "what the hell am I doing?" This is the unique purpose of Bob Harris' presence in Japan and Bill Murray was the perfect choice to embody the discomfort of this situation.
Remember Murray as Phil Connors in "Groundhog Day", a weatherman forced to work in some godforsaken yokel place and trying to look professional. Murray is perfect when it comes to say something while thinking the whole opposite, and even a diplomatic smile (confronted to these exaggerated bows) can be an anger directed toward himself, that's the "wisdom" built on years of marital repression. This is not a hazard that Harris isn't just some actor questioning his career moves but also in the middle of a life crisis, wondering if this trip wouldn't affect his marriage, as if one couldn't recover from that solitude in the hotel, that the poster magnificently conveys.
The hotel setting is perfect for the film because there's this neutral and impersonal touch that can only encourage self-meditation. The contrast also works between the hotel and the tumultuous life of the city while both Bob and Charlotte are busy trying to find a meaning to their life. Charlotte is the perfect counterpart to Bob, she's young, she's beautiful, but she only came because she had recently married a photographer (Giovanni Ribisi) and maybe thought it was a nice opportunity to "test" the couple. But her husband is all business, and can't resist flattery from some B-actress (Anna Faris) and dedicate all his time to the calls of the job. If he's not escaping from something, he encourages Charlotte to evade the couple.
Never has loneliness been so vivid in a film and as if the style embodied some Japanese Zen philosophy, it takes its time to build the bridge between the two lost souls who find themselves as soul mates as the plot move forwards. But this is not your typical romance, it's not about love, but about two persons who are so disconnected in real life that they find the connection in their similar situation: alone and aliens, and manage to dig deeper in their own existential issues. They're estranged from the world to such a degree that they can't be estranged one another, their similarity is the catalysis of a growing complicity, one everyone who's married yet chatted on the Internet or shared a few confidences with a total stranger, alcohol helping, will understand.
The film illustrates a fascinating reality seldom explored in movies: we're never as honest and transparent as with persons who have nothing to do in our life. It's like the language of the soul that can only be understood by the person who'll be able to listen. The film features a funny moment where the ad's director gives indication to the female translator but this works like the typical gag (one used in "The Great Dictator") where a long sentence in one hand is translated into a very brief sentence, but once you get what the director said, you realize that Bob was right: "more was said". The title "Lost in Translation" is a great fit because it's not just a matter of languages.
Feelings can be lost in communication due to haziness or habits. One can see more difficult communication between Bob and his wife and Charlotte and her husband than any language issue, and once Bob and Charlotte go to their night escapade, for a brief, enchanted moment, they're finally fishes in water. And it doesn't escalate to a sex scene, the film teases us with many shots of Charlotte's body but the most intimate moment will occur in a tender bed discussion where Bob shares his sincere exhilaration to be a father and delicately holds Charlotte's toe. There's a truth in the film that sometimes, one stranger can be the mirror that reflect the truth about yourself, in such a way you can communicate them, or at least learn how to communicate it.
But Sofia Coppola who directed and wrote the screenplay (and won the Oscar) doesn't fill the film with complaisant clichés, and find the perfect note to end, that the final line said in the film, the one that seals the romance in a touching bittersweet way, is unknown to us. We never know what the whisper was, but maybe saying it would have lost its impact, it's like the film applied its own title.
And maybe I was too young to enjoy it, something was lost in my own personal translation.