87. Look at that face, look at that complete and utter confusion of an actor caught in the middle of life. But more importantly, look at this movie, because there is no other work this decade who combines a sense of beautiful artistry with a complete sense of melancholy and the eternal struggle to find one's self. I now have times in my life I refer to as "Lost in Translation" moments. This film has become part of my psyche, and I think anyone who watches it will find that they too will be lost in this wayward tale.
A third of this change of life has to be credited to Bill Murray (the other two parts, of course, are all Sofia's and Scarlett's). Murray, in my humbled opinion, has never been better. He has classic scene after classic scene, as he rediscovers that his uber-successful life has been for want-he doesn't know what he's doing, and he's not sure he likes that he's a drifter. My favorite is the scene with the commercial...no wait, the scene with karaoke...no, the end-definitely the end (or maybe the scene where Scarlett asks about the Porsche). Every scene reaks of future depths. I remember an author once commenting that he intends to keep reading Proust's Rememberance of Things Past for the rest of his life. I plan on watching Bill in this movie for the rest of mine.
A Murray film festival? I am in desperate need of one. Despite the fact that I have gained a recent love of him, I am completely void on my collective Murray filimography: What About Bob?, Caddyshack, Rushmore-I haven't seen any of the three. Of the ones I have seen, I'd say make it a double feature between Lost in Translation, and then Broken Flowers-Murray's underappreciated follow-up (even though he doesn't have Scarlett, there's still much to love).
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