Sofia Coppola
Lost In Translation

Is it still possible to make a silent film in the 2000s?

Sofia Coppola says yes, and in 2003 she produces what is considered her manifesto until today: "Lost In Translation", the translated love, is the beginning of everything. And for me, there is no end.

Bob Harris (Bill Murray) and Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), both trapped in a marriage without stimulus, meet during a period of concurrent stay in a Tokyo hotel, each for their own reasons. They meet and look at each other, accompany each other, get to know each other, spend time together, and in the end, say goodbye. But really?

Sofia Coppola, freeing herself from the role of the godfather's daughter, further demonstrates that to make a film memorable, one scene, a moment, a few seconds are enough to achieve the gift of immortality: if in "The Virgin Suicides" that surreal sequence with gas masks was enough, here it takes a handful of words whispered by Bill to Scarlett without the audience being able to hear them. In the end, just before the Jesus And The Mary Chain. Silence – tunnel – exit.

But they part with a smile, because he tells her they will meet again, because that expression in their eyes can only mean that I cannot be without caressing you, without your feet, your lips, your expression in the dark, without your constant wandering around the house, you searched for me, you let yourself be discovered, and now I stay, I won't leave, not even if you ask me, not even if I force myself to.

Why be unhappy for life because of a broken promise?

Patience is the virtue of the strong, and I never thought I was weak. Sofia Coppola sets her iconic film in Japan, choosing the land on the other side, across the ocean, as distant as Alessandro Baricco intended in "Seta", without the Boeing 747 that takes you there in half a day, without business trips crossing it, just distant, another world, an island, my favorite island, where I land when I want to feel good.

The dialogues are minimalist, everything is played on glances, scenarios, the usual Oscar-worthy irony of Bill Murray, the infinite and simple beauty of Scarlett Johansson, the expressions of tired faces revitalized by unexpected events that they both do not want to lose, now that I've found you I don't want to, keep me. Treat me well.

The setting in a foreign country, foreign to everyone, is genius, there is no language that is understood, there is no gesture familiar to either of them, Japan as a mirror of one's own life: solitude, estrangement, need for guidance, comfort, affection. And then a call, here I am, here you are, a greeting, a hug amid the lights, a desire to make love that waits a long time. Until the end that I, I repeat, do not see.

Bill Murray, with his inside-out shirts and his thirst for alcohol, stripped of his ghost-buster gear, is the perfect middle-aged man in search of himself; Scarlett Johansson, clad in natural elegance and phosphorescent wigs, is the reflection of dissatisfaction linked to wrong choices, the withered plant needing water, the pale face seeking sun.

And then amid this sea of solitudes, I adore your gaze, and in this unknown universe, I take your hand and make your eyes shine again.

And then, why not?