Showing posts with label Lost in Translation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lost in Translation. Show all posts

Monday, 8 December 2008

Cinematography of the Year 2003

Yet another very difficult call this year. You could potentially make a case for all of the five films in my top 5. Although, really, the cinematography in Return of the King, good though it is, is essentially just a follow on from the efforts of the previous two films, the visualisations of the City of the Dead (in particular) and also Minas Tirith (the City of the Kings) is especially stunning and the film is worthy of inclusion in any discussion on those two visual megaliths alone.

Another two films outside my top 5 also merit attention for visual thrills. The first is the spectacular bloodbath that is Zatoichi. Katsumi Yanagishima clearly has an eye for blood and the powerful effect copious amounts of it can have on an audience. When done well, that is, and not crudely, as in another 2003 film, Kill Bill: Volume 1. Tarantino could take a lesson here (which, or so I would argue, he did for volume 2).

Three of the films in my top 5 (The Station Agent, All the Real Girls and Mystic River) come from the same visual plateau (Americana) yet each, especially taken together, show just how light, atmosphere and backdrop can so heavily both influence, and reflect, mood. Mystic River feels dark and foreboding throughout, like the secrecy and undercurrents of discomfort that layer the town and its inhabitants. All the Real Girls is classic David Gordon Green (though it is Tim Orr and not Adam Stone - see my previous post - on photography duty here), dreamy, sleepy, soulful, romantic, all light perfectly reflecting and encompassing sound, like the quiet ping of a raindrop on a spring pond. Beautiful and sensuous. And the Station Agent - quiet, lazy, dreamy, backwater America washed with a cinematic landscape which makes you want to live it and, indeed, live in it. If I had to choose between them, All the Real Girls would win. I just love the look and feel of Green's films and can't wait to see his latest effort, Snow Angels.

Lost in Translation (cinematography by Lance Acord) is a different animal entirely, looking radiant and dazzling, bejewelled by the throbbing neon lights of a Hong Kong reminiscent (but no more than that) of Christopher Doyle's heartached Hong Kong landscapes in the films of Wong Kar Wai. Lost in Translation pushes the eventual winner close too.

However, the 2003 award goes to the second film not in my top 5, the Polish brothers' Northfork. I would watch this again purely for M. David Mullen's photography. The look is a perfect balance between dreamworld and reality, as though the stark, ethereal and dolorous bright light, inhabited by its strange, unearthly creatures, is itself the delicate and lonely bridge between this world and the next, into which the town of Northfork is shortly to disappear. Atavistic and brilliant, the light divides the two worlds, and moods, of the film perfectly. Northfork is a very good film, though one that disappeared too quickly, and its cinematography is well worthy of this award, which it steals ahead of more famous, and more heralded, company. Indeed, the company it finds itself in, and, ultimately ahead of (in this category) in 2003, is testimony to Mullen's strange and beautiful achievement.

Sunday, 16 December 2007

That whisper

I came across a link to this video on youtube. It's the last scene in Lost in Translation and has been digitally amplified so you can hear what Bob whispers to Charlotte. Once I saw this I had an urge to watch the film again and it reminded me how highly I thought of it and that my original A grade was actually stingy - it deserved an A+. Anyway I decided to write a quick review as part of linking to this video but realised that I'd rather just post an extended review of a film I love and leave this til later.

I love Copolla's decision to make the whisper inaudible and some people might not want to know what he says. But if you do...

Wednesday, 12 December 2007

Modern Classics. #1

Lost in Translation is all over my 2003 list like white on rice. The film itself is number 1. Bill Murray wins best actor of that year and Scarlett Johansson comes in third in the actresses. It fares almost as well with my esteemed colleague landing a spot in all categories as well - almost certainly the only film in recent years that can boast such a feat.

Sofia Coppola's film is about an attraction between two tourists who somehow manage to capture a chemistry that bridges the generation gap between. Bob is a jaded movie star in Tokyo to film a $2 million ad for whiskey when "he could be doing a play somewhere." Charlotte is just out of college but has no idea what to do with her life. She's been married two years but doesn't recognise the man she wed. They share a sense of disillusionment with life and are, as the title suggests, lost - searching for a sense of purpose. They begin to explore whether they've found that in each other. In so doing a wonderful and completely understated relationship develops between them.


Is there anyone alive that doesn't absolutely love Bill Murray? He's one of the very finest actors around and here he's at his downbeat best - perfectly capturing the desperation he feels at the inevitability and futility of everything he does. His despair is not conveyed through breakdowns and histrionics. It's a wry smile here or a bow of the head there or maybe just a complete silence. He's simply brilliant. Murray's Bob manages to be both touching and hilarious at the same time. He infuses his performance with so much humour that you can rarely watch him in a scene without smiling. Yet it's all deadpan and restrained that it perfectly suits the material. Credit Coppola for a skilled screenplay injected with the sort of comedy that feels completely natural and never forced.

Johansson found her big break with this - smaller roles in film like Ghost World notwithstanding. She's terrific and convinces completely. Playing against Murray when he's at his absolute best must be both exhilarating and daunting. Trying to hold your own against him is no mean feat yet she's every bit as good and they are just so perfectly suited - the chemistry between them seems effortless.

Whilst the film is principally about these two, it's also a look at the idiosyncrasies of life in Japan. It's clear that Coppola (who both wrote and directed) has a real affection for Tokyo and it's people (she's spent some considerable time there). Although Bob and Charlotte feel completely lost both in life and in a city that's so alien it plays like a love letter to Japan. I for one felt like jumping on a plane as soon as possible and spending some time there.

Everything about the film is terrific. The cinematography from Lance Acord is absolutely first rate - he was BAFTA nominated for his work here and it's disappointing that his efforts weren't more widely recognised. Kevin Shields score and a soundtrack featuring brilliant songs by Air and Phoenix is perfectly selected. The album is an essential purchase for anyone. The real marvel though, aside from the two leads, is Coppola herself. Both her direction and screenplay are just magical. At just 32 she became the only American female to ever be nominated for the Best Director award at the Oscars and that still holds true today. That's a rather sad indictment of the industry that has nominated just 3 female director's in it's history, but only serves to highlight the brilliance of her accomplishment. Copolla quite rightly won the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, although it would have been no more than she deserved to take home 2 Oscars that night.

Lost in Translation is captivating from the very first frame right until the credits role - and even beyond. It's the mark of a brilliant film that you speculate what may happen to the characters when it's all over and in this movie you do exactly that. In the final scene Bob is on his way to the airport and catches a glimpse of Charlotte. He stops the cab, runs after her, and whispers something in her ear. It's a terrific decision by Coppola to make the dialogue inaudible. This is a private moment and what he says to her is personal and not even the audience deserve to know what it is. It adds a lovely touch that further establishes the idea that they connect and it's genuine. But you can't help wondering what he said and you can only guess as to whether they'll see each other again and whether their relationship - one of the most convincing I've seen committed to celluloid - can and will continue.

A+