I've long been meaning to write reviews about her films so this assignment (well, actually, it was our final paper) was loads of fun even though there was the pressure of doing her works justice.
Lost In Translation
(2003)
The world passes by Bob Harris, a tired and lonely actor who found himself in Japan to promote whiskey for a sizeable talent fee, and in an attempt to boost his career. When he forms a bond with Charlotte, who constantly finds herself alone when her husband goes to work, they happily bask in the unfamiliar setting of Japan; and as the days slip by, the realization that what they have is an intimate, however mostly platonic, relationship begins to hit them. These are characters who share not only the same dilemma of dealing with a foreign country’s language barrier, but something deeper that nags the corners of their minds in sleepless nights -- loneliness.
The world passes by Bob Harris, a tired and lonely actor who found himself in Japan to promote whiskey for a sizeable talent fee, and in an attempt to boost his career. When he forms a bond with Charlotte, who constantly finds herself alone when her husband goes to work, they happily bask in the unfamiliar setting of Japan; and as the days slip by, the realization that what they have is an intimate, however mostly platonic, relationship begins to hit them. These are characters who share not only the same dilemma of dealing with a foreign country’s language barrier, but something deeper that nags the corners of their minds in sleepless nights -- loneliness.
My lack of exploring both in foreign places and the unfamiliar territory of love is what makes this film quite an adventure for me. Admittedly, though, it is Bill Murray’s performance that I see as the icing on top of this beautiful film.
Sofia Coppola lavishes in the emotions of the characters by taking her time in establishing the story. The long stretches of quiet scenes where Bob or Charlotte is seen staring blankly across the room leaves an empty feeling in me, as if so much as a draw of breath from me will startle the characters on screen. Sofia handles the film with grace that the story unravels on its own without a “shove” in the plot that is more often than not a hit or a miss. Witty and genuinely amusing, the screenplay – that I genuinely enjoy – delivers so much by saying so little. The film makes you feel that words have become unnecessary, that a look shared by the two characters is an adequate expression of emotions and you understand. Even Bob merely patting Charlotte’s feet contains such deep emotional intimacy that I find that simple act serves as the pivotal part of the film.
The shots of the concrete jungle that is Japan are mesmerizing and gave me the same wonder and shock that Bob feels when he is plunged into the heart of the city. It felt as though I was travelling with them. It does not fail to deliver beautiful imagery, with the camera placed in all the right places so the angles are just right. Along with the visual beauty of the film, I especially enjoy the music that truly sets the atmosphere. It thoroughly makes you feel the conflicting emotions of loneliness, happiness, security, confusion. The film is a quiet storm that leaves an aftermath.
I will always question what Bob whispers to Charlotte at the end of the film and although it upsets me that they will never reveal what it is, it is that private moment that gives me closure. It is not a love story so much as a story about love. It does not conform to the generic formula and it is not bound by the rules of a typical Hollywood tale. You feel, and that is the purpose of this raw and powerful tale.
Someday (2010)
The film captures Hollywood without the glamor, particularly through Johnny Marco, a big-time actor who stays in the Chateau Hotel with money to waste, women at his disposal, and a lifestyle that has severely numbed him, resulting in his passive and robot-esque demeanor. With the sudden introduction of Cleo, his eleven-year-old daughter to his life, his world is shaken, waking him up from what seemed like an emotional paralysis.
The beauty of the film is its focus on character study, with long stretches of silence and the aimless, mechanical movements of Johnny as he sits on his couch, dragging on a cigarette and basking in an all-consuming loneliness. Contrary to making the film dull, the application of slow cinema extremely heightens the realism of the film. I’ve realized that working with a laconic script is its essence; the majority of the film is spent in contemplative silence and it urges the audience to really look and think. The film gives the audience the opportunity to look deeper and to feel deeper. It is hushed and quiet, intimate and authentic.
Again, Sofia Coppola makes use of subtlety and minimalism and directs the attention to the characters and examines them. Who are they? What are they thinking? The film presents scenarios and allows the audience to draw conclusions for themselves. As a fan of character study, Sofia’s representation of each characters, I believe, is something that gives life to the film.
The father-daughter dynamic of Cleo and Johnny is expected of an estranged family; however, Cleo looks at his father with wonder and adoration. Her innocence snaps Johnny out his bizarre bafflement, and he no longer feels the need to fill the void inside of him because of Cleo’s presence.
The use of long shots emphasizes the dissociation and isolation of the characters and its silences speak volumes. The absence of music initially made me uncomfortable, but the scenes were long enough that I was able to settle in the quiet. It is a simplistic take on Johnny’s struggle to make up for lost time with his daughter. Warmth radiates from the two characters, and it is both heartbreaking and comforting.
The film captures Hollywood without the glamor, particularly through Johnny Marco, a big-time actor who stays in the Chateau Hotel with money to waste, women at his disposal, and a lifestyle that has severely numbed him, resulting in his passive and robot-esque demeanor. With the sudden introduction of Cleo, his eleven-year-old daughter to his life, his world is shaken, waking him up from what seemed like an emotional paralysis.
The beauty of the film is its focus on character study, with long stretches of silence and the aimless, mechanical movements of Johnny as he sits on his couch, dragging on a cigarette and basking in an all-consuming loneliness. Contrary to making the film dull, the application of slow cinema extremely heightens the realism of the film. I’ve realized that working with a laconic script is its essence; the majority of the film is spent in contemplative silence and it urges the audience to really look and think. The film gives the audience the opportunity to look deeper and to feel deeper. It is hushed and quiet, intimate and authentic.
Again, Sofia Coppola makes use of subtlety and minimalism and directs the attention to the characters and examines them. Who are they? What are they thinking? The film presents scenarios and allows the audience to draw conclusions for themselves. As a fan of character study, Sofia’s representation of each characters, I believe, is something that gives life to the film.
The father-daughter dynamic of Cleo and Johnny is expected of an estranged family; however, Cleo looks at his father with wonder and adoration. Her innocence snaps Johnny out his bizarre bafflement, and he no longer feels the need to fill the void inside of him because of Cleo’s presence.
The use of long shots emphasizes the dissociation and isolation of the characters and its silences speak volumes. The absence of music initially made me uncomfortable, but the scenes were long enough that I was able to settle in the quiet. It is a simplistic take on Johnny’s struggle to make up for lost time with his daughter. Warmth radiates from the two characters, and it is both heartbreaking and comforting.
The Virgin Suicides (1999)
Undeniably one of my personal favorites, The Virgin Suicides is a passively dark film disguised in the form of 6 seemingly upbeat teenage girls living in the suburbs under the watchful eyes of their strict parents. The film explores adolescence, sexuality, loneliness, yearning, the loss of innocence, and coping with shattered ideals. For such heavy themes, Sofia Coppola presents the story with a lightness that lulls you in a state of whim with the occasional funny punchlines despite the rattling first few scenes of the film. Then the story begins to unravel and the airy feel gradually dissolves, replaced by a hollowness that is ironically palpable.
It is an elegant film, one that you cannot help but adore, both in terms of aesthetic and story. Sofia makes use of tight shots and close-ups, to wide shots of the characters. I find that it is the amount of attention paid to the detail that ties everything perfectly well together, resulting in a mundane but bewitching atmosphere. Hazy and mysterious, the dreamy tones and color palette of the film allow you to see the world through the eyes of the neighborhood boys who have long been admiring and lusting after the Lisbon girls.
What I consider the most wonderful element of the film is its subtlety and Sofia’s ability to communicate emotions through glances, gestures, expressions, and even the slightest shifting of ambient music. These things draw the audience to the girls the same way the narrators (or “we” as referred to in the book) are drawn to them. It makes for a chilling viewing experience partnered with an equally chilling narrative of sisters who took their lives for reasons that are still unknown.
Whether it is the boys’ fantasies or real-life, there is the same hypnotic feel. From when the boys daydream of the Lisbon sisters frolicking in the fields to organizing a prison break from the girls’ house arrest, the glaring absence of realism doesn’t hit you until the death of the girls.
Even days after seeing the film, it is of the lingering variety. My peculiar knack for moody films is also probably the reason why this is the strongest contender in my list of favorite Sofia Coppola films.
No comments:
Post a Comment