LOST IN TRANSLATION is a love letter to insomnia. An American movie star (Bill Murray) in Tokyo shooting a whiskey advert, forms an unlikely friendship with the wife (Scarlett Johansson) of a young photographer (Giovanni Ribisi). Their age difference can be charted in decades, but they find common ground in jetlag at the Tokyo Hilton. He is smack dab in the middle of a midlife crisis and she is struggling to discover her newlywed identity. One gets the sense that neither of them is a stranger to hotel rooms, but both are strangers to their spouses. A chance encounter in a hotel lounge brings them together in their mutual discomfort, which dissolves the isolation each feels independently of the other. The performances resonate reality, and this reality overshadows the extraordinary coincidence of their meeting. Bill Murray brings subtle warmth to his role, reminiscent of his supporting turn in RUSHMORE, but here, in sharing lead duties makes the viewer aware of just how talented he really is. His sense of movement, expression and comic timing are absolutely flawless, and it will be a crime if his performance is not recognized as the acting tour de force it is; it's easy to imagine Bill Murray now having the kind of career Tom Hanks has enjoyed over the past decade. Scarlett Johansson is mesmerizing in her emotional portrayal of an oft discarded newlywed, struggling to find meaning in her life, if not at least in her marriage. Her on-the-cusp-of-womanhood is as central a story mechanic as it is a framing device in many of the shots of the Tokyo skyline.
This is one of only a handful films that has accurately captured the feeling of being a stranger in a strange land. The hermetic culture of Japan is a perfect background for this story, and the city of Tokyo is as much a star as any of the actors. Traveling ten or more hours by plane to a country where the language is different, and the culture unfamiliar does interesting things to one's perspective, and this film revels in those differences. Sofia Coppola has proven her knack for identifying these anomalies while recognizing the similarities that exist pan-culturally. Her gift at directing young actresses (both in this film and her first) is as apparent as her intuitive casting and precise use of music. She directs this film in a manner that recollects a memory, both painful and poignant, but uplifting. She has fashioned a story that never ventures beyond the probable, but always surprises. It's themes are universal, and if it recalls any past film at all, it is David Lean's Summertime, albeit with a more drastic May-December slant. It definitely does not look like an American film, and by using a predominantly Japanese crew has managed to instill a very Japanese feel. Marvelous. Simply marvelous.
