One my favorite–and woefully underrated–films is Lost in Translation, starring Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson–written and directed by Sofia Coppola (yes, that Coppola family). I watched a few clips today courtesy of hulu.com, and I was reminded what a genuine treasure this movie really is.
What sets it apart from other films in its genre is its authenticity and believability–there are so many examples of just how “real” this film is; one of which being the dialogue between Murray’s character, Bob, and his wife as they talk on the phone. I would argue that anyone who’s been married with children for any length of time has had at least one conversation like theirs. Coppola wrote an excellent script, and she proves herself to be a most capable director, but mostly it’s the performances that stand out (Murray was nominated for an Oscar for his role–not that recognition from “the Academy” necessarily means anything, mind you). There’s a really bittersweet scene toward the end when Bob has said goodbye to Charlotte (Johansson), and he watches her get into the elevator while he poses for a photo with some of his Japanese hosts. The look that Murray conjures up is positively heart-wrenching in its sincerity and its sublety.
There has been much debate about the ending–which I won’t spoil–and what Bob whispers in Charlotte’s ear. I’ve seen the movie a few times now, and I try to make out what he says each time, but it remains unitelligible to me–and I’m more than fine with that. For me, the film’s ending remains one of the most genuine and memorable out of all the movies I’ve ever seen–which is quite a few.
There are too few movies made these days that match the quality and emotion of Lost in Translation, in my opinion–and that’s OK, too, I think. Because when a movie like this does come along, it’s even more of a gem.