I saw this today at imdb.com. The poster's name is kp-jacoby. This is a fascinating take on the Bob-Charlotte relationship. Whether it is correct or not...we may never know. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
At the general imdb-page about "Los in Translation", there´s given the following "Trivia"-information:
"the movie Bob and Charlotte watch together at the hotel when neither one of them can sleep is La Dolce Vita"
No further comment is made on that fact, although in my opinion it is one of the most ESSENTIAL keys to the understanding of the movie. Although the whole context appears different (the meaningless aristocratic high-society-life in the Rome of the 60s and the Tokyo business-setting), the movie turns out to be more than only inspired by Fellini. At some stages, it nearly appears to be an updated study on "La Dolce Vita", and at the same time, a much more optimistic re-writing of the story.
If you don´t look at the surface but on the essence of the story (incommunication in an apparently meaningless environment), how similar become the characters interpreted by Marcello Mastroiani and Bill Murray, both strolling around, bored, depressed and totally alienated from the people that surround them.
In La Dolce Vita, it is the (very short) appearance of Paola (Valeria Ciangottini) that might show Marcello a way out of his shallow life. In the first scene it´s just a short encounter in a café where Marcello shortly talks to the young girl that represents the only spot of innocence, purity and beauty in the whole movie. I just can´t imagine Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) in another way than representing La Dolce Vita´s Paola, although, of course, the relationship with Bob Harris is much more intense, but still platonic (o.k. we don´t know for sure, the movie is ambigous to this point). However, both movies end up with Paola/Marcello and Charlotte/Bob returning each one to his own life.
But now the point that really made me shiver, as it is a modification of a scene that for me has always been one of the most powerful in the history of cinema. Remember the final scene in La Dolce Vita: after a boring party Marcello and his friends hang around on the beach where Paola suddenly reappears on the other shore of a river, trying to tell something. But a noisy wind makes it impossible for Marcello to understand anything. After an attempt to establish contact, he finally gives up and returns to the party ... what remains is the shallow taste of a return to the a horrorful routine leaving aside the (illusionary?) magic of having crossed the shore to stay with Paola.
The same scene reappears in La Dolce Vita, when Bob and Charlotte see them each other for the last time. She also tries to tell something that is impossible to be understood, this time due to the street noise. But now the scene is changed by Coppola in an important way. They join again, telling something to the ear. In the first moment, I felt the scene would turn into "kitsch" by changing the powerful original to a common happy-ending lovestory, but than i was surprised by the sensibility of the modification. The ear-whispering is still overheard by the spectator due to the noise and Bob and Charlotte leave each other, anybody for his own way, as it has to be in the logic of the whole movie. What remains is, however, the secret of an unheared message that Bob and Charlotte share, whereas La Dolce Vita leaves us alone without a similar promise of magic. The beautiful thing about Lost in Translation is that the secret remains unrevealed to the audience, or even more, it remains unrevealed if there is a secret at all. The importance to be attributed to the last scene just depends on everybody´s personal belief in a kind of communion among people. Wonderful!
One of the more interesting things I've read about "LIT
Moderator: Bob
Dammit, I need sweetie time, too. But it is a good post. I would like to see a lot of comments.
And for those who haven't seen "La Dolce Vita," get off your fannies and see it.
One thing Jacoby doesn't mention is Marcello's wildly intense relationship with his significant other (not Paola, who is only seen in the movie for a very few moments). I don't remember if they were married or if they just lived together.
And for those who haven't seen "La Dolce Vita," get off your fannies and see it.
One thing Jacoby doesn't mention is Marcello's wildly intense relationship with his significant other (not Paola, who is only seen in the movie for a very few moments). I don't remember if they were married or if they just lived together.
"[quote:d57c6c137a="Congruous"]And for those who haven't seen "La Dolce Vita," get off your fannies and see it. [/quote:d57c6c137a]
Okay, I have it from the library, and I'll see it as soon as the ball-n-chain will let me!
"
Okay, I have it from the library, and I'll see it as soon as the ball-n-chain will let me!
"
Last edited by jm on Sat Feb 17, 2007 12:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
More...
"Fellini ends his film on an almost mystical note, with the angelic Paola beckoning to an uncomprehending Marcello. (This was Valeria Ciangottini's first role; she remains a steadily-employed actress.) Paola could hardly be more unlike that kitschy Jesus statue we saw dangling precipitously above Rome; and how unlike the strange creature which just washed up on the beach. And that may be the point: Fellini is showing us an image of a singularly human redemption – Paola is both ethereal and flesh and blood. Although we see her as an innocent, and idealistic, teenager, in her first meeting with Marcello in the cafe where she works, she also subtly flirts with him. Of course, he more overtly flirts with her: significantly, the "line" he uses is that she looks like an angel in Renaissance art. Once again, Fellini presents us with rays of hope yet includes a cautionary note, to keep us from being swept up in the mania of either sacred fervor or endless profane nightlife." (from Jim's Film Reviews)
"Fellini ends his film on an almost mystical note, with the angelic Paola beckoning to an uncomprehending Marcello. (This was Valeria Ciangottini's first role; she remains a steadily-employed actress.) Paola could hardly be more unlike that kitschy Jesus statue we saw dangling precipitously above Rome; and how unlike the strange creature which just washed up on the beach. And that may be the point: Fellini is showing us an image of a singularly human redemption – Paola is both ethereal and flesh and blood. Although we see her as an innocent, and idealistic, teenager, in her first meeting with Marcello in the cafe where she works, she also subtly flirts with him. Of course, he more overtly flirts with her: significantly, the "line" he uses is that she looks like an angel in Renaissance art. Once again, Fellini presents us with rays of hope yet includes a cautionary note, to keep us from being swept up in the mania of either sacred fervor or endless profane nightlife." (from Jim's Film Reviews)
Re: One of the more interesting things I've read about "
"[quote:bbfd12b605="kp-jacoby"]The beautiful thing about Lost in Translation is that the secret remains unrevealed to the audience, or even more, it remains unrevealed if there is a secret at all. The importance to be attributed to the last scene just depends on everybody's personal belief in a kind of communion among people.[/quote:bbfd12b605]
I have yet to watch La Dolce Vita, but I like the post. I agree with that quote -- I never wanted to know the whisper, or even considering knowing it an option before I saw posts by people who wanted to know it."
I have yet to watch La Dolce Vita, but I like the post. I agree with that quote -- I never wanted to know the whisper, or even considering knowing it an option before I saw posts by people who wanted to know it."
Last edited by jm on Sat Feb 17, 2007 12:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Have you seen "La Dolce Vita," jml2? Paola is like a distant possibility for Marcello's salvation. In the early part of the movie, you see Marcello's wild, hard-charging lifestyle and his chaotic relationships with women, and then one day he ends up at this little out of the way country restaurant and meets Paola and (presumably) her little brother. Paola's sweetness and warm-heartedness are apparent and Marcello feels this. It's not a sexual thing...it's that she is so different from what he has been exposed to in the past. Then, when they meet up again at the end of the movie, there is a desperation and urgency to it for Marcello.
Hmmm. So is Sofia Coppola perhaps saying that the film's audience is her version of the Marcello Mastroiani character at the end of La Dolce Vita? We certainly go, unheeding the message, back to our own lives after watching the movie. Is that part of the reason why LIT leaves us feeling somehow sad yet fulfilled by the potential of those lost words? Was Coppola making a conscious or subconscious connection between the two movies when she made the words unintelligible to us? Maybe I'm just reading too much into it, but maybe it's an interpretation to think about.after a boring party Marcello and his friends hang around on the beach where Paola suddenly reappears on the other shore of a river, trying to tell something. But a noisy wind makes it impossible for Marcello to understand anything. After an attempt to establish contact, he finally gives up and returns to the party ...
...i was surprised by the sensibility of the modification. The ear-whispering is still overheard by the spectator due to the noise and Bob and Charlotte leave each other, anybody for his own way, as it has to be in the logic of the whole movie. What remains is, however, the secret of an unheared message that Bob and Charlotte share, whereas La Dolce Vita leaves us alone without a similar promise of magic.
You want more mysterious? I'll just try and think, "Where the hell's the whiskey?"