It may be a stereotype, but I have found those that enjoy Lost in Translation (2003) to be self-styled artsy people.  There is nothing wrong with being this way.  Yet, it does pose a kind of identity crisis if you feel a kindred spirit with this set and, like me, are not enamored of this movie.  It is not bad.  My main problem with it is that it does not follow a typical narrative structure.  I try not to get too into cinema theory in my reviews, partly because I am not as versed in it as I should be, but also because I find it hard enough to hold people’s attention without being academic.  Suffice to say, I prefer something with a discernible beginning, middle, and end, and with a good amount of positive character development along the way.  This one blurs the lines between all these beats, and muddles around in the middle.  This usually annoys me to no end.  Here, I am only half-piqued.  Perhaps the rest of this article will explain why.

Bob Harris (Bill Murray) is Lost in Translation as soon as he lands in Tokyo, Japan.  He gapes up at the dizzying array of lights while in the taxi to his hotel, bewildered before he begins interacting with the people he is there to meet.  He is in the Land of the Rising Sun to shoot a number of commercials for a brand of Japanese whiskey for which he is paid to endorse.  Their representatives are energetic, the people behind the cameras are energetic, those that recognize him are energetic, but all he wants to do is sleep.  Failing slumber, which continually escapes him, he would rather go home.  This also seems a source of worry as his wife constantly sends him faxes and messages from overseas wanting his attention.  Meanwhile, there is another person at the same establishment who is having also having problems adjusting.  She is Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson).  She is here with her husband, John (Giovanni Ribisi), a photographer has been brought across the Pacific to shoot a rock band.  It is clear that she does not know where she stands in life.  John appears absorbed in his work, and gives a great deal of attention to Kelly (Anna Faris), a young Hollywood actress who once worked with John.  The Yale educated Charlotte finds Kelly to be vacuous, but politely tolerates the star whenever present.  Japan seems just as foreign to Charlotte as it does to John.  You know they are bound to meet, and their first time seeing each other is in the elevator, though she later confesses to not remembering the brief encounter.  Instead, they begin noticing each other in earnest at the hotel bar.  It is a particular haunt for him since he can be there in relative peace with a good, stiff drink to wash down the day’s concerns.  It is also where they both go when they cannot sleep, which is how they have their first conversation.  It is hard to describe this because much of the attraction between the two is unspoken.  You see them going about their daily lives with consternation, evidently out of place.  Because they both feel what the title suggests, they find each other.  As a result, they begin to spend more time with one another, especially since John is called away from Tokyo to photograph the band in another part of Japan.  On John’s first night away, Charlotte decides to take Bob out on the town with a group of Japanese friends she had made since she has been in the country.  She teases him for his attempt to dress like young people, calling it a midlife crisis, but he handles it with the kind grace you would expect of a Bill Murray character.  This time spent tripping the light fantastic makes up the majority of what you see of their interactions.  They pass a number of evenings together, and it is evident that they love each other.  Importantly, they do not have sex, so thank you for that one director Sofia Ford Coppola.  They do sleep in the same bed, which is the only time you do see them slumber, but it is fully clothed.  While this is drifting into my Catholic analysis, observe how sex outside of the confines of marriage is problematic.  One evening, Charlotte decides to take a trip by herself.  Bob, finding himself without Charlotte for the first time in days, is alone at the bar.  It is not long before sitting down next to him is the American lounge singer (Catharine Lambert).  It then cuts to the next scene, and Bob is regrettably waking up in his bed with the vocalist belting out a tune in the shower.  It is at this moment that Charlotte knocks on the door to see if he would like to go have lunch.  Charlotte hears the singer, understands the situation, and tries to play it coolly.  What is icy is Bob and Charlotte’s interactions over their meal.  Yes, Bob has also cheated on his wife back in the United States, but Charlotte is the aggrieved one we can see.  Is it any wonder God refers to marriage as a covenant?  Nonetheless, they cannot stay mad at each other, and it is with a brief smile exchanged outside the hotel after a fire alarm is pulled that fences are mended.  Unfortunately, Bob is set to leave the next day.  Thus, they spend one more evening together, clearly wanting to give into the feelings they have for one another, but staying reserved.  She comes down to see him off the next day, handing him a coat of his she borrowed.  He leaves, but when he sees her walking down the street while he is outbound in his taxi, he has the car stop.  He then gets out and they have one last embrace.  This is essentially where the film ends.

So, what did Bob and Charlotte learn about themselves in Lost in Translation.  The title actually says it all.  If they did come to some new understanding, then I missed it.  What I can say about them is that they are searching.  I would tell anyone that I spiritually direct, if the subject were to come out, that searching is good.  While the film is not specifically Christian, you can see Charlotte’s path taking her in a spiritual direction.  I do not care for the sort of bland deism that seems en vogue in some circles.  This comes out when Charlotte listens to one of those self-help books on tape talking having a purpose in life and the soul’s journey.  Such things lack focus and structure, and, to be brutally honest, mean next to nothing.  Only in relation to God can have the soul have meaning because that is what He gives each of us at the moment of our conception, and what we will one day (hopefully) bring back to Him.  If the words that Charlotte listens to lead her into the Church, great, though I doubt Coppola would envision such an outcome.  Yet, notice the emotional reaction she has when she visits a Buddhist shrine.  Immediately after she calls her mother on the verge of tears.  It is not explicit, but it strikes me that she came close to something deeper and eternal, and in a more tangible way than anything else she had previously experiences.  Now, I have a lot of respect for Buddhism.  There are many philosophies of theirs that a congruent with Catholicism.  At the same time, the easiest way of getting to the one true God, the source of all eternal, is through the Church.  Maybe if you do so, you will not also be lost in translation.

Ultimately, the main characters in Lost in Translation do not know what they want out of life, and again, hence the title. Because they never seem to figure this out by the end, I am left a little frustrated.  It is a finely filmed and acted movie, though with a little bit of nudity.  If you are like me and prefer things a little more straightforward, then skip it.