Lost in Translation

I saw, Lost in Translation in 2004. I was very excited because it has gotten tons of Oscar hype, and because it was set in Japan. I was very prepared to like it ... and I didn't. I hated how the film made Tokyo look like a souless, techno-crazy, alien place. I disliked how the characters were so distant with each other and their families. And I was disgusted by the cage-dancers.

However, when I take myself out of my Japan-centric mode of thinking, I realize that this film could have been made anywhere in the world. So many of the world's largest metropoli share the same cosmopolitan qualities ... crowded and frenzied streets, towering buildings, noise, neon signs and huge billboards, sparse vegetation (if any at all), and the overwhelming presence of electronic machines. Taken as a whole, I find large cities to be incredibly depersonalizing.

I'm reminded of that one scene in You've Got Mail. Tom Hanks' character says, "It wasn't personal." Meg Ryan's character replies, "I'm so sick of that. All it means is that it wasn't personal to you. But it was personal to me. It's personal to a lot of people. And what's so wrong with being personal anyway? Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal."

(Aside: if you liked this movie ... and even if you didn't ... I recommend Shop Around the Corner, a wonderful movie starring Margaret Sullivan and James Stewart. Shop was the inspiration for Mail, and although Mail is charming, it doesn't quite measure up.)

So yes, I'm a fan of the personal. And even more than the personal, I'm a fan of Anne and kindred spirits. I find that the most effective method of fending off feelings of insignificance and isolation is to nourish relationships with others. Travelled down to the OC a couple hours early, and spent the time deep in conversation with Pilgrim Girl. She and Ni-chan, along with a handful of other people, comprise my inner circle of kindred spirits. We speak the same language, and I discover more of myself in an hour of thoughtful conversation with "my peeps" than I could in a lifetime of chitchat with others. We all went to Outhouse, and gleaned more meaty food for thought, especially P and JoW's comments near the end. Talked with Nichan and PG until late, and then threw myself out.

Drove over to the Del Taco to get a bite to eat for the ride home. I ordered a spicy fish burrito ... I prefer the tacos, but they just aren't conducive to driving (even at the hateful snailpace of 55mph I'm doing to break in the new car). Anyway, they took a long time to process my order. The guy who handed me my food mumbled something to the effect (or so at least I thought, given his heavily accented English) that they'd thrown in some fries for me. So, I drove off. It wasn't until I was on the freeway onramp that I discovered that my fish burrito was nowhere to be seen ... and I spent the next thirty minutes discontentedly munching on carb-laden bean burritos. Lost in translation indeed!