A love letter:Lost in Translation

This is one of those things I 'm scared to talk about in public for fear that I'll launch into a serious case of verbal diarrhea wherein I profess my love for something and won't stay quiet until everyone at the table agrees to the brilliance of it.Okay maybe not,that doesn't happen often nowadays but the excitement still shows very visibly when I talk about something I love deeply,as I try very hard when someone asks if its any good,to say with only half my mouth open "It's okay".

The first time I saw the movie was when it came out in 2003,I found it boring and paid little attention.It was only two years ago in 2006,when I believe I had matured a bit-I happened to watch the movie again,there was one week when I rented every Scarlett Johansson (she has the cutest giggle-see the wheelchair scene-and in this movie,her eyes do at least half the talking) movie in existence and bought a shitload of junk to hibernate alone for a couple days.Something bad had happened,or something bad was about to happen I don't remember,not important.Which is when my relationship with the movie began,and eventually progressed from subsequent screenings.

I like the way everything feels arranged to perfection,but natural somehow-every setting,the hotel and the neon-lit streets and everything else feels cold and colorless like a gravestone.Mr Harris whom everyone approaches with a safe distance and is trapped in a string of liaisons that feel like the commercial shoots he does-under strict orders and rules,a strange linearity that contradicts reality.And the relationship he finds with Charlotte-nothing like that trite,manufactured perfection we call love-its this understanding and connection we all might or might not yearn for,some evasive kind of fulfillment you can't quite name.

I'm sure all of us can find that the world can be an isolating place at times.Like no amount of words or experiences can prepare you for a single conversation-a profound lack of something in your daily encounters,when even the smallest things like a phone call can affect you with immense emptiness.Are you freaked out yet?I really do think everything about this movie is perfect.Every scene and word of script uttered hints to some bigger idea but the movie keeps to its own story and doesn't try to be vague and borderless (unlike every other movie that's tried to replicate it),and this is the only time Bill Murray's succeeded doing this kind of role-the others were bullshit and didn't feel at all genuine.

You know that scene in the hospital where Bob waits and in the meantime talks to this funny guy in a cap,behind them two women laugh frantically the whole way.That's how life feels like--sometimes you're this person and sometimes you're that person,but either way I don't think I have a goddamn clue.And that scene when they're both in bed half-asleep and still talking,her feet in his hand-it says everything that needs saying.Also,Anna Faris is in it ("my dad was anorexic") and is psychotically hilarious as usual.



syz said...

my favourite movie. I'm always scared of recommending this one, I'm scared at the thought of people not liking it.

Al said...

yep,i generally dont even talk about this movie,but its really smtg.