for relaxing times, make it suntory time.
Feb. 4th, 2004 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pauraque_bkI finally saw Lost in Translation, which I'd been eager to do, since there are a few people on my flist who are great fans of it (*glances in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maria_futura's direction*).
Overall, I liked it. A high degree of realism and detail, which are usually what speak to me in any story, filmed or not. The sense of unaffected *perception* is almost reminiscent of Mike Leigh's direction at times -- small things like the alternating sounds of muted underwater and music abovewater when Bob is swimming. There isn't an excess of dialogue in the movie; scenes are allowed to speak for themselves without being rushed, and the characters are allowed to communicate through action and expression. I like the everyday nature of their dialogue, their awkwardness, their inarticulateness relative to characters in most movies.
The thing this movie absolutely nails is the sensation of a short trip to a place you've never been. The way each day has a character of its own, even while the days somehow blend together to form The Trip. There's the aspect of exploration, mapping out new territory, and then the inevitable *repetitiveness* of being the tourist, going down the same elevator every day, starting to feel like the street between the hotel and that sushi bar *is* your territory, at least for the time being.
The whole movie has a certain quality of memory -- some things are glossed over or forgotten, others are lingered over in vivid detail. That adds greatly to the sense that this is a hinge-point in these people's lives -- you imagine them looking back on it, without it taking you out of the moment.
I liked the interplay of tension and connection between the two leads. Bob starts out in a position of power, being older, male, and a celebrity. In the scene where he first shows up in her hotel room and heads into the bathroom to turn his shirt around, there's a sudden shiver of invasiveness -- you can feel Charlotte realizing that she's invited this stranger into her space. But then he abdicates that advantage in an image that's both deceptively prosaic and subtly powerful -- he wants her to cut off the tag of his shirt, so he turns his back to her, kneels down so that she can reach, and lets her have a sharp object at the back of his neck. It's perfectly natural and reasonable in the situation, and isn't belabored in the least, yet it's somehow shockingly primal, and snaps the balance of power back into equilibrium.
The split POV was interesting. Of course, in literature, it usually doesn't work to use more than one POV at a time, but in theater and film, it can be done; you can let the audience choose who they're identifying with at a given moment. This is where the strong characterizations almost work against this movie -- both leads are so sympathetic and interesting that you want to watch and empathize with both of them all the time. In the scenes where Bob and Charlotte are talking alone, my attention was divided in a way I occasionally found distracting.
Some of the later scenes could have been a bit tighter. You don't ever want to leave your audience unsure of where we are, and I got that feeling sometimes. But really, this is a well-directed movie, especially considering it's a first effort. I'll be very interested to see what Coppola does next.
ETA: Thanks tomark356 for pointing out that this is actually the second feature she's directed, the first being The Virgin Suicides.
*
So... does that mean Simon's *not* gay?
Aw.
Actually, it annoyed me that they edited the scene in such a way that it seemed Paula was primarily reacting to the contestant saying that Simon was gay. I don't know if that was really the case, but it bugged me.
In any case, I was pleased to see that my two favorites, Fifties Guy and Scooter Girl, both made the cut tonight. The thing is, as much as I enjoy American Idol, what they're looking for isn't really my kind of music. I'm completely charmed by FG's uncanny vintage voice and delivery, and I love SG's goofy humor. I would buy an album by either one of them. But ultimately I know they can't win, because it's a contest to find a straight-down-the-line pop performer, not an interestingly different performer.
*
Darn. I liked Tina. What's the matter with Rupert, anyway? He thinks Jenna's going to make a better ally than Tina? Bizarre.
I'd forgotten what a jackass Rich is. I had that love-to-hate-him thing going on in season one, and I'm not sure yet what I think of him now. I'll have to see what he does. This whole "I can make fire anytime I want" thing isn't impressing me so far.
More generally, Rich is a good example of something I've been thinking about lately, which is that you can go pretty far at anything if you hedge your bets and play your hand carefully, but you can only be the very best if you're willing to risk complete failure. I don't think Rich is unaware that he can fail; that awareness just doesn't *ever* inform his actions.
maria_futura's direction*).Overall, I liked it. A high degree of realism and detail, which are usually what speak to me in any story, filmed or not. The sense of unaffected *perception* is almost reminiscent of Mike Leigh's direction at times -- small things like the alternating sounds of muted underwater and music abovewater when Bob is swimming. There isn't an excess of dialogue in the movie; scenes are allowed to speak for themselves without being rushed, and the characters are allowed to communicate through action and expression. I like the everyday nature of their dialogue, their awkwardness, their inarticulateness relative to characters in most movies.
The thing this movie absolutely nails is the sensation of a short trip to a place you've never been. The way each day has a character of its own, even while the days somehow blend together to form The Trip. There's the aspect of exploration, mapping out new territory, and then the inevitable *repetitiveness* of being the tourist, going down the same elevator every day, starting to feel like the street between the hotel and that sushi bar *is* your territory, at least for the time being.
The whole movie has a certain quality of memory -- some things are glossed over or forgotten, others are lingered over in vivid detail. That adds greatly to the sense that this is a hinge-point in these people's lives -- you imagine them looking back on it, without it taking you out of the moment.
I liked the interplay of tension and connection between the two leads. Bob starts out in a position of power, being older, male, and a celebrity. In the scene where he first shows up in her hotel room and heads into the bathroom to turn his shirt around, there's a sudden shiver of invasiveness -- you can feel Charlotte realizing that she's invited this stranger into her space. But then he abdicates that advantage in an image that's both deceptively prosaic and subtly powerful -- he wants her to cut off the tag of his shirt, so he turns his back to her, kneels down so that she can reach, and lets her have a sharp object at the back of his neck. It's perfectly natural and reasonable in the situation, and isn't belabored in the least, yet it's somehow shockingly primal, and snaps the balance of power back into equilibrium.
The split POV was interesting. Of course, in literature, it usually doesn't work to use more than one POV at a time, but in theater and film, it can be done; you can let the audience choose who they're identifying with at a given moment. This is where the strong characterizations almost work against this movie -- both leads are so sympathetic and interesting that you want to watch and empathize with both of them all the time. In the scenes where Bob and Charlotte are talking alone, my attention was divided in a way I occasionally found distracting.
Some of the later scenes could have been a bit tighter. You don't ever want to leave your audience unsure of where we are, and I got that feeling sometimes. But really, this is a well-directed movie, especially considering it's a first effort. I'll be very interested to see what Coppola does next.
ETA: Thanks to
mark356 for pointing out that this is actually the second feature she's directed, the first being The Virgin Suicides.*
So... does that mean Simon's *not* gay?
Aw.
Actually, it annoyed me that they edited the scene in such a way that it seemed Paula was primarily reacting to the contestant saying that Simon was gay. I don't know if that was really the case, but it bugged me.
In any case, I was pleased to see that my two favorites, Fifties Guy and Scooter Girl, both made the cut tonight. The thing is, as much as I enjoy American Idol, what they're looking for isn't really my kind of music. I'm completely charmed by FG's uncanny vintage voice and delivery, and I love SG's goofy humor. I would buy an album by either one of them. But ultimately I know they can't win, because it's a contest to find a straight-down-the-line pop performer, not an interestingly different performer.
*
Darn. I liked Tina. What's the matter with Rupert, anyway? He thinks Jenna's going to make a better ally than Tina? Bizarre.
I'd forgotten what a jackass Rich is. I had that love-to-hate-him thing going on in season one, and I'm not sure yet what I think of him now. I'll have to see what he does. This whole "I can make fire anytime I want" thing isn't impressing me so far.
More generally, Rich is a good example of something I've been thinking about lately, which is that you can go pretty far at anything if you hedge your bets and play your hand carefully, but you can only be the very best if you're willing to risk complete failure. I don't think Rich is unaware that he can fail; that awareness just doesn't *ever* inform his actions.
