The Soundtrack: Lost in Translation

Lost in Translation is possibly my favorite movie of all time. Like many of Sofia Coppola‘s films it’s not eventful, it is not plot-driven, but character-driven and as with some of her other films, Somewhere, for instance, one of the major characters is played by the scenery. And what a scenery Tokyo has to provide! Having been to Tokyo makes one appreciate the brilliance of this soundtrack even more as the task to capture the sound of the city is quite enormous. Having lived in Asia makes one appreciate the film even more (though I thought it not possible), but that’s a different post.

Having had the good grace to be introduced to My Bloody Valentine during my most influential period to date, my teens, I can honestly say Kevin Shields, one of the masterminds behind MBV and the composer in charge, is the perfect man for the task at hand: To take one on a journey to the biggest city in the world as we know it, as well as an emotional journey of two very different people. Right from the intro, the tone is set for a curious, bustling, yet empty, metropolis, simply titled Intro/Tokyo. And so we are introduced to the first character, the city.

City Girl sets the tone for the rest of the soundtrack. There will be no poppy, happy, bouncy ballads here, the sound is distinctly cold, melancholic even, much as Scarlett Johansson’s character Charlotte. But there is hope in the words I love you, I do…

Fantino by Sébastien Tellier seems not to be written by someone else at first glance, but if you listen closely it is distinctly different to Shields’ sound. There is a story here, not unlike Yann Tiersen’s epic score to Amelie, in the repetition, the almost carousel-like notes. You are intrigued, ready to be transformed to another place, yet keep spinning around in circles.

Tommib, however, relates a more in-transit sort of feeling and by so gives a fine first impression of Bill Murray’s character Bob. There’s waiting embedded in this song, almost as if it was written with being put on hold, or stuck in an airport lounge, in mind.

The wait pays off eventually in the grandest song of the album, Girls by Death in Vegas. The city lies before you now in all its glory and you have a hand reaching out to you, ready to lead you through it. To me, this song manifests the joy the characters find when they stumble onto each other in the strange world that is Tokyo. To me, this song is a call to adventure. To me, this song is bliss.

But bliss doesn’t come without complications. Just as nights out don’t come without hangovers, as the empty feeling of the depressedly titled Goodbye reminds us of. How could we forget?

Too Young by Phoenix may seem like a abrupt break of character, and in a way it is. It breaks us out of the heavy thoughts Goodbye has us thinking and drags us into a party. The party is not an innocent one though, there is resentment there somewhere. But we needed some socializing.

At least it helps prepare us for Kaze Wo Atsumete, which, like Tokyo, is an amusing blend of western and eastern music, caught somewhere in between. It’s perhaps not one of the most amusing songs to listen to on its own, but as part of the whole that this soundtrack is, it plays its part well. The part? To remind us, we are indeed in Tokyo. We couldn’t be anywhere else.

The cold air City Girl breathed into the album at the beginning is tangible more than ever on the aptly titled On the Subway. You can almost feel the cold air seep through you.

Ikebana spells loneliness, just enough loneliness to push us into the second highlight of the album, Sometimes.

Sometimes is not a song that makes big waves on its own, but as it is situated within the structure of the album, and the movie, you can feel tension in the air, the riff eating away at you, pushing your buttons. Whatever must happen, will happen. You just have to let go. The slow build-up within the song itself is very subtly done but highly effective.

Alone in Kyoto is therefore a little letdown. Not because Air’s tune isn’t exactly what it says it is, it’s just that we don’t want to be alone in Kyoto at that given point. We want to be plunged into action, into a heart-throbbing kiss or a feisty argument. But then we wouldn’t be enjoying a Sofia Coppola film, now would we. So tension lingers.

Shibuya is a strange place to be in, an enormous crossing, a place to shop, to meet, to move on. Shibuya, the song, does a fair job of capturing that feeling and portray it within the aesthetics of the film. Still, tension is building, the noise of the city grows louder. Yet it ends on a very quiet note. A breath before…

Are You Awake? attacks the senses. It’s a strangely aggressive song.

It makes it so that when the steely, empty drum sound of Just Like Honey hits it seems soft, not the feeling that too many distortion pedals usually evoke. Within the film this song is very powerful, almost like a power ballad for a very different breed of lovers, but within the soundtrack it comes off as a soft lullaby. A firm hug and a gentle, sweet kiss, in the midst of a noisy whirl.

And then silence. For almost as long as you can bear. At last;

Scarlett Johansson’s voice breaks the silence to introduce Bob’s karaoke song, More Than This. Bill Murray is not a great singer, in fact he’s a pretty bad one, but that makes the track even more of a treasure to find at the end of the silence-rainbow, so to speak. It’s a short recording, but it says all that needs to be said. There’s nothing more than this.  You can interpret that any way you want.

If you take the songs of this soundtrack and listen to them individually, they seem broken, like unfinished sentences. Together they tell a story. Not a plot-driven one, no, a character tale in a big city. A curious, bustling, yet empty metropolis, simply titled Tokyo.

Follow Filmophilia on Facebook and Twitter

Share this post with your friends, by pressing the pretty little buttons below.