MYST Post #2: Lost In Translation

 I chose to watch "Lost in Translation." (Link to summary if needed: http://www.fandango.com/lostintranslation_v283628/plotsummary) In terms of my opinion regarding the picture's storyline, this one isn't so easy to put into words; as the film initially played, my aversion to the whole concept surrounding it grew with each passing scene. When Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson began singing karaoke to each other, it was officially a drawn-out, insincere love affair (in my mind). I had been put off by this genre even before I pressed play; I've never enjoyed romance films. With all of the new ideas and images filling people's minds every day, with all of this potential to share thoughts that have been especially crafted to society's current political, environmental, and emotional standpoints, why bother devoting time to creating a romance that, no matter how one tries to bend it, has been done so many times before? The concept of love stays constant within the world as a whole, absolutely constant. Sure, each individual experiences disparate forms of love at varying points of his or her life, but these emotions sit dormant within us until provoked to surface. Love is patient and never-fleeting, which is in contrast to the diminishing significance that frequently surrounds current events. Why not make a film to capture government shutdowns, the resignation of a Pope, a hostage crisis — that film will provide a necessary and effective encapsulation of situations just as important as finding "the perfect match." Romance and exploration and passion between humans is and has been at our disposal since the beginning of time. But I do understand. People are in love with love, it's a core part of who we are. Love is a powerful and ubiquitous theme, and audiences will never tire of it. I'm  just one opinion, but I had to get it out there, I guess.

Though I clearly had a difficult time getting past the content of the film, I did notice the way it was presented.

    One of the most prominent techniques employed throughout the film was asymmetrical imagery, which presumably represented the alienation and hopelessness felt by the main characters. It almost seemed to act as a cheat-sheet for the audience. Bill Murray looking listlessly out a car window at the overwhelming intensity of the city? Since his face is not centered, but instead off to the left, the rule of thirds has been violated. Not only this, but the remaining space in the shot is filled with an out-of-focus view of the city lights. What once would have been a fairly ordinary opening shot now clearly represents a disconnect between a man and his surroundings, which causes us to ask: why? Similarly, the scene in which Bill Murray is propped on the very right edge of his hotel room bed also blatantly signifies a sense of imbalance both on the bed and within the character's own mind. Bill Murray is constantly being short-changed by the camera — his head poking out from the side, and if he does become centered in the frame it will only be for a moment. This character is so constantly depicted as "half a man" that it is almost too obvious when his budding interactions with Johansson are continually portrayed as in focus and in balance. Good, he found his other half. Balance is restored.
     Another reoccurring technique that was utilized — a continuous exaggeration of Japanese stereotypes (as the film is set in Tokyo). This, again, created a sense of alienation in the characters from their surroundings, which more easily allowed them to gravitate toward each other. The acknowledgment of these stereotypes also provided a foundation on which the two could build their relationship, because the feeling of "belonging" was absent in both of them at that time.
    The majority of techniques found in "Lost In Translation" were selected for the sole purpose of emphasizing the emptiness and isolation and puzzlement felt by Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson until they found each other — long shots with lots of negative space, off-kilter camera angles, and prolonged close-ups.

   One scene that had an unusually strong impact on me involved Scarlet Johansson alone. Looking into the hotel mirror she begins to steadily apply a shade of lipstick, but this is done with a quiet intensity. Though the color was fairly neutral, the act still contrasted sharply with her choice of wardrobe, which consisted of a plain blue sweatshirt and a pair of underwear. Johansson then proceeds to adorn the hotel room with these peachy flowery chandelier-type ornaments, and then goes on to stub her toe on the way down from decorating. I don't know if it actually has any significant meaning within the film as a whole, but this scene really did stick out to me. I appreciated the idea of trying to add vitality to that which isn't so readily receiving it — putting lipstick on a woman who has nowhere to go, bringing life to a room which really doesn't accept it. There's this subtle, desperate sense of hope that weaves its way through the scene, and its simplicity was refreshing.

I couldn't get over my own disinterest in the genre itself, and that caused my appreciation of the acting and cinematic techniques to suffer.