Bob Harris (Bill Murray) is a Hollywood actor in Japan to film an ad for Japanese whiskey. Whether or not he is “washed-up” up for grabs. While actors doing ads in another country for the money is not new, it is definitely suggested that Bob is tired of the Hollywood rat race. As he struggles to adjust to the jet lag, he is up night after night and goes to a hotel bar to either drown his sorrows or maybe just drink himself to sleep. His wife frequently faxes him inane questions about the carpeting of his study or passively mean notes that he “forgot his son’s birthday. Don’t worry, he probably won’t notice.” It is clear that Bob has no one that really understands him.
Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) is with her photographer husband as he chronicles a Japanese rock band. Stuck between going with her husband on long photo shoots and being by herself for days on end, she is feeling less and less like an entity.
Bob and Charlotte are lost. Bob mourns the life and excitement he once had; Charlotte mourns the life she thought she would have by marrying the man she loved. Both are in a strange land where everyone is eager to explain to them what they need to do, but no one is willing to listen to the problems they may be having.
With Bob, this is shown hilariously during the TV shoot for the whiskey commercial. While it is obvious that the director has high goals for it, the English translator persists in giving Bob what seems like five percent of what he is trying to get across. These scenes, full of low-key sardonic humor from Murray, are a comedic high-point of the film.
With Charlotte, this is shown tragically when she calls a friend. Charlotte explains her problems and worries about her life and the marriage, but with the friend’s call-waiting acting up, Charlotte’s statements fall on deaf ears. She hangs up with the phone, sobbing.
Apart, they are sleep-walking through life while waiting for someone to come along to talk to or simply, listen to them. When Charlotte goes down to the hotel bar with her husband and friends for drinks, they catch each other’s eyes. They chat and develop an easy friendship. Soon, they are spending virtually all their time together, both knowledgable that they will be parting before long.
What happens with their friendship as it grows to a relationship will not be discussed in this review, for that would reveal the entire plot as well as much of the raw emotion created on the screen by the interaction of Murray and Johansson. Needless to say, as they spend all of their time together, they grow quite attached to each other. Charlotte serves as Bob’s link to a past of fun and frivolity and a reminder that he may be older, but he isn’t dead. Bob is Charlotte’s mentor to the world before her and she is rife with questions for him about marriage, aging, and life.
With The Virgin Suicides as an ambitious, but fundamentally flawed, first feature and now Lost in Translation, Sofia Coppola should no longer be referred to as Francis Ford Coppola’s daughter. She has established herself as her own director with a quiet, lyrical, and subtle directing style that does not force any emotion on the characters or the audience watching.
The photography is similarly hauntingly simple. At once it catches the chaos of Tokyo and the isolation that Bob and Charlotte feel caught up in it. Especially during the first half, there are startling shots that convey the intense isolation these characters feel.
Murray and Johansson cannot be applauded enough for their acting. Murray has been making a comeback of sorts with Rushmore, Hamlet, and The Royal Tenenbaums showing that he is capable of solid dramatic and comedic acting. Lost in Translation continues this streak. Where some comedians (Robin Williams, I’m looking at you) might have overdone some of the comedic elements of this movie, Murray simply sits back and lets the script show you how ridiculous or sadly tragic the situation is. He is aware that there is plenty of laughter in the movie as well as sadness. Johansson, who I have never really seen before, conveys the fragility and strength (contradictory, I know) of Charlotte perfectly. Throughout the first half of the movie, her face looks like it could burst into tears at any moment and you know exactly why. It is to these two actors credits that this film doesn’t become some kind of wretched May-December romantic comedy.
There is a scene where Charlotte comes out of a room and registers surprise at something Bob is doing. He is holding a plush pillow that has a sappy, smiley face on it. When she asks if it’s for her, he responds, “Sure. I guess so,” and then his face lights up and she laughs a little. While this may seem like a minor point in the movie, it is the movie’s message in a scene. There are times in life when we want to jump up laughing and then there are times when we are overwhelmingly sad and need to talk things out; Lost in Translation knows that sometimes, these events occur at the same time.
This movie opened in limited release last week and expanded slightly this week. As it expands (which it will given the astounding per-screen average it’s had at the box office), I strongly urge you to see it.