Wednesday, 14 May 2008

Thursday, 13 December 2007

Imagined ending vs concrete ending

I see tonight that there is a youtube video out regarding the ending of Lost in Translation. It apparently uses a voice enhancer or some such doohickey to determine exactly what it is Bob Harris (Bill Murray) says to Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) at the end of the movie. (just quit reading now if you haven’t seen it yet, and shame on you)

Anyway, this is easily one of my favorite movies, one worth owning anyway (ie good enough that I need to be able to immediately watch it at any time) – and what I love most about it is how beautifully subtle it is. It just drips with under-moments, odd little glances, almost invisible shared understandings, and in a romance, which I guess is what you would call the film more than anything else, this is especially wonderful. Life, quite usually, is not like some movie after all.

So at the end of Lost in Translation, our two “lovers” never have their Hollywood moment really, and good. Bob is in the car to the airport, is suddenly compelled to seek out Charlotte, some obviously unfinished moment which was to happen but didn’t on his mind, and he does find her on a crowded street – they kiss – he whispers something in her ear and then he goes back to the car.

It’s an open ended ending, certainly more than it’s not, and so you are left wondering what he said, what will happen next, etc etc. John Q. Moviegoer who likes tight little bows at the end of every movie often finds this very annoying – where as I like that we are left to imagine the ending. I like that I have to do some work in the afterglow of such an enjoyable film. And as much as I do enjoy and sometimes need the emotional payoff at the end of a movie, I can settle for the kiss and the whisper and not the happily ever after we have been bamboozled with over and over again. (see: Love Actually – the most insulting movie to my emotional intelligence that I have probably ever seen)

So that it is now possible to find out what he does in fact say, I guess it makes for two kinds of people – those who want to know and those who don’t. And I find myself quite unwilling to look behind this curtain. I like not knowing. I like trying to dream up what he says every new time I see the movie. I like imagining when I’m feeling romantic that they meet again, and when I am pessimistic that they do not. I like that life includes mysteries and that I may not figure them all out. (see: how was the universe itself created)

So what kind of person are you? And if you go to find out what he says don’t you dare ever tell me.

….

POSTSCRIPT: Roger Ebert: as the the end of his original review:

Well, I loved this movie. I loved the way Coppola and her actors negotiated the hazards of romance and comedy, taking what little they needed and depending for the rest on the truth of the characters. I loved the way Bob and Charlotte didn’t solve their problems, but felt a little better anyway. I loved the moment near the end when Bob runs after Charlotte and says something in her ear, and we’re not allowed to hear it.
We shouldn’t be allowed to hear it. It’s between them, and by this point in the movie, they’ve become real enough to deserve their privacy. Maybe he gave her his phone number. Or said he loved her. Or said she was a good person. Or thanked her. Or whispered, “Had we but world enough, and time…” and left her to look up the rest of it.

Tuesday, 4 December 2007