Imagine hearing the major critics on the top of the roof on the skycraper sing boisterous praise for one of the five hundred 'qualified masterpieces', and Lost in Translation somehow received the honor bestowed on Sofia Coppola and company. Big mistake.

Lost in Translation is one of these movies that at first you might be seeing a terrific movie, but as it progress it become drab, droll and tedious without justification in substance. There's really no story to speak of -- only paper-thin basic with inanely banterous dialogue.

There may be a merit in cinematography that raise the artistic value of this movie, but because the story is non-existent and the characters utterly unsympathetic & boring to watch, cinematography -- stationary in some scenes and moving in others -- somehow negate the enjoyability of the movie by focusing on the ludicrous aspect of tedium as if Sofia could bring back the element of silence inspired by silent films of the early 20th century.

Lost in Translation (er, Sofia) abuse the silence element as the expression of meaning when it really add *nothing* of substance to the aesthetics of the movie, artistic or otherwise. It's utterly meaningless if one does not understand the express purpose of silence at the right moment to convey the humanistic value of life in the hectic and modern world. Sofia is being altruistic to the detriment of the audience when it comes to the vanity of the characters as portrayed Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson which generated zero empathy that makes the movie even less interesting to watch in a continuous manner without becoming fidgety or letting out relaxing yawn. There's nothing of interest what happen to the main characters and why should the audience give a care.

Sofia made the blunders in filming and keeping the scenes from the fate of being tossed into the cutting room trash bin that are particularly unintentionally humorous in being unabashedly pretentious or idiotically embarrassing. Like the English pronunciation-mangling Japanese hooker in the hotel room and the pointless, unromantic conversations with Bill & Scarlett characters who somehow fall in love while possessing ice-cold personalities that would make Mr. Freeze blush in humbled shame. And the movie moves in the glacial pace that makes it atrocious to watch -- it is the cinematic exercise in tedium for the sake of artistic expression, without tightening up. It drags on and on until the audience feel nothing but contempt for the characters and especially the screenwriter/director responsible for torture by mean of boring the audience to death.

Sofia once mentioned her favorite movie director is Terrence Malick. Mr. Malick is a completely different filmmaker who knows how to convey the meaning of silence in the poetic setting because Malick has experience observing nature and human qualities as a former philosophy professor & translator. Sofia did not because she doesn't get the aesthetics combined with silence without the backbone of a rich story and characterization. The Virgin Suicides, Sofia's debut movie, is well-made and competent, but Lost in Translation is such a trainwreck in terms of lackluster substance & poor, drag-on editing that lend to experiencing boredom. This boredom probably reflect the period of boredom at certain points of her life, and she parlay that experience as a form of torture to inflict the mental anguish of tedium on the audience in vengeance.

Scarlett Johannson and Bill Murrey, while accomplished movie actors in their right, do the barest minimum except mug to the camera in the aura of exulting "Sundance Film Festival" self-importance that elevate this movie to the new level (more like bottom 100) in high art, with moronically sedate monotony & meandering tedium thrown in. Bill's acting is nothing special save comedy and Scarlett is moderately competent but technically bad in dramatic acting (which makes it a safe bet she'll never be nominated for Best Actress Oscar in her lifetime, UK's BAFTA Best Actress award clinch for subpar, vacant, minimalist acting style partially blamed on Sofia's tepid, fumbling directional style & a future hard-*** director demanding spectacular acting notwithstanding).

Frankly, I do not know how Lost in Translation screenplay appealed to Scarlett and Bill Murray. It may be a character study, but does it delve into humanities, psychology and philosophy? No. It's more like a staid travelogue populated with non-descript characters that say absolutely nothing but dumb banter then fade to the pretty backdrop with the main characters wandering for a few minutes too long. This script won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for nothing but silence, banter, silence, banter, silence, inaudible whisper, fade to end? When the critics claim the movie have substance that the audience could not spot and decipher and call us stupid for being oblivious, I say the true design of Lost in Translation is that it is an introvertible proof The Emperor's New Clothes carry a valid allegory that apply to Sofia's vapid, utterly worthless filmflam that, next to Corey Haim's 1989 video diary "Me, Myself & I", might serve as an ideal audio-visual torture device. Because Sofia wants the audience to experience what she endured, and so we the viewers get the taste of her bitter medicine of a puerile existence, similar to what Vincent Gallo did with the cheerfully self-indulgent "Buffalo 66".

Zero star out of four