Depression in Tokyo.
It’s official! Lost in Translation is one of my most favourite films in the world!
Spoilers for Lost in Translation ahead!
Lost in Translation is a 2003 film directed by Sofia Coppola, the third women to be nominated for a best director Oscar out of a total of 6, preceded only by Lina Wertmuller and Jane Campion. She paved the way, with her distinct visual style and female-orientated storylines, for other female powerhouses such as Kathryn Bigelow, Greta Gerwig and Chloé Zhao to challenge their male counterparts in the industry. Whilst women in directing are severely prejudiced against by large organisations such as the Academy and the BAFTAs, the widespread acclaim of Lost in Translation began the landslide of calls for more women in the industry.
Lost in Translation follows Charlotte, a recent philosophy graduate travelling with her newlywed husband for his photography gig, and Bob, a washed-out actor trying to run away from the cracks in his marriage to a whiskey commercial in Tokyo. Their paths cross, and so begins a connection that is almost indescribable. They spend their limited time together running through Tokyo, attending karaoke parties, and having late-night discussions about their fears and shared feelings of emptiness. Whilst Coppola essentially wanted to create a romantic film about two characters having a connection, for me it is so much more than that.
Depression
One major analytical interpretation is that Lost in Translation is ultimately a film about the draining, debilitating nature of depression. Coppola herself spent time in Tokyo trying to figure out what to do with her future, and whilst these mental issues may not be mirrored by her, she often describes this time as a crisis in her life. The title itself also has many interpretations linking to this. The most literal one is that of Bob whilst he is shooting the whiskey commercial, as the language barrier adds a level of difficulty and uncertainty to the whole ordeal, as the director of the commercial seems to give a long passionate speech and the translator simply says a single sentence to Bob; the whole scene becomes almost uncomfortable with the slow-paced back and forth confusion between characters. A deeper meaning of the title may furtherly link to the idea of depression by suggesting that in a huge bustling city filled with life, culture and neon signs, Charlotte and Bob still feel this inexplicable loneliness. A common symptom of depression is being in a room full of people and still feeling as if you are completely alone, this is clearly demonstrated multiple times: for example, when Charlotte’s husband John has a seemingly materialistic conversation with Hollywood actress Kelly, and Charlotte is shown to be looking away, uninterested, searching for a way out. She then spots Bob and so their friendship begins. Other examples that may link to this theme of mental illness is that both Charlotte and Bob, more specifically Bob, suffer from crippling insomnia, and Charlotte suffers from a complete breakdown after her visit to Kyoto whilst on the phone to her friend, who clearly was indifferent towards the situation. The main idea of the entire film is feeling existential ennui in a place brimming with people, and Bob and Charlotte bring each other comfort in the simple, dull things life can offer, shown by the somewhat drab colour schemes of the hospital and karaoke party where Bob and Charlotte finally feel a sense of connection and belonging.
Failing marriages
Both Charlotte and Bob have failing marriages that they are desperately trying to reconcile in some way or another. For Charlotte, this is following her husband John around like a sheep simply for the purpose of pleasing him, and for Bob, this is by running away to Tokyo to momentarily escape his problems rather than actually facing them: he is hoping that somehow the cracks in his marriage will magically heal with time. This is further shown through the repeated shots of Bob and Charlotte in their hotel rooms, gazing out the windows to Tokyo with a feeling of suffocation from their current lives. Whilst Bob and Charlotte may be interpreted to have a romantic relationship, for me the connection they share is far more platonic. Whilst Charlotte becomes jealous after Bob’s one-night sexual interaction with a lounge singer, this is somewhat superficial, and the conflict is resolved very soon after. Bob and Charlotte do not gravitate to each other for love, but instead for comfort in a city where they feel horrifically alone. Lost in Translation, therefore, acts as a parallel to Her (directed by Spike Jonze), as both serve as portraits of grief and loss told by Coppola and Jonze respectively surrounding the deterioration of their marriage.
Condemning of capitalism
Lost in Translation could be said to be critical of modern capitalism and materialism whilst romanticising traditional Japanese culture and practices. Coppola has come under fire for her portrayal of Japanese people and modern Japanese culture, such as arcades, for presenting them as empty and mindless, but Coppola’s main intention was possibly to make a point about her own struggles to make a true personal connection in a city with growing disconnect due to the overwhelming technological advances, although this stereotypes Japanese people in a damaging manner as blind to their traditional culture. Charlotte, who has been constantly pushed to the side by her husband, seeks comfort in connecting with people again, whether it is through visiting shrines in Kyoto or curiously gazing on at flower arranging, for the main reason that she feels trapped by materialism and a world based purely around sensual wants rather than true experiences, reflected by her husband constantly leaving her alone to focus on his work, clearly prioritising the money and career experience he gains from this over his own wife. Bob also faces the effects of materialism head-on, firstly from his wife sending him piles of almost indistinguishable burgundy samples of carpet for him to decide from rather than discussing the more pressing problem of their failing marriage. Bob himself is wrapped up in this capitalist way of life, starring in whiskey commercials, having his face plastered all over the city and appearing on overly joyous Japanese talk shows.
Warping the male gaze
A final interpretation of the film is that, in some ways, it aims to warp the male gaze. Originally this may seem crazy, as the opening shot is of Charlotte lying on her bed, camera focused on her slightly transparent feminine pink underwear- this almost exaggerates the male gaze- but the shot is held for around 45 seconds before a dissolve into the title. The fact this shot is held for a long period of time mocks the male gaze, as this would make a male audience become slowly more uncomfortable, highlighting the huge issue of sexualisation of women in the film industry. As well as this, throughout the film, Charlotte is presented as a fully formed human being with real problems, which sounds ridiculous as a baseline for a feminist film, but too often are female characters only portrayed as objects to aid their male counterparts. If the story was told from John’s (Charlotte’s husband’s) perspective, it would be easy for Charlotte to become just a trophy wife due to her exclusion from his work, but instead the audience immediately sympathises with Charlotte’s deep feelings of isolation and neglect and she becomes the clear protagonist, possibly even over Bob, due to her age, as an audience are encouraging her to discover her own path in life.
Lost in Translation is a film about many things: loneliness, materialism, depression, and love, but most importantly it is a film about making true connections with other people.
(dear anyone who loves Lost in Translation as much as I do, I recommend Her- directed by Spike Jonze)