Later this year The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby will be released, offering a fresh take on the modern relationship by presenting both sides of the story: His and Hers. However, Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation nearly does this already with Spike Jonze's Her as they both take a look inside the directors' failed marriage.
It's too easy to call Her the counterpart to Lost in Translation, both are unique accomplishments that should stand out and could stand alone for their near-perfect screenplays and fresh perspectives, there's a sad beauty in pairing them together.
For context, Jonze and Coppola were married in 1999 (although they had been together for several years before that) and divorced in 2003, which was also the year Lost in Translation was released. It's pretty clear from the first viewing which film came closest chronologically to the divorce, as LIT is much more raw and, at times, bitter about the fact, while Her is a reflection on the failings of both parties involved. But all history aside, these movies connect on a deeper level. Lost in Translation follows the short-lived relationship of two lonely people who come together as friends to avoid the reality of being completely alone. Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) is in an unsatisfying marriage with her husband, a music video director named John (Giovanni Ribisi). As she navigates the foreign streets of Tokyo, she meets aged movie star Bob (Bill Murray) and strikes up a natural friendship with him. The only attraction is intellectual, and in the end they both go their separate ways. It's a little bittersweet, but it's the way of life. They were there for each other during a time when they desperately needed a human connection, and now that time is over, and they can move on.
What's intriguing, however, is that this short summary could easily be applied to Her if told from a male perspective with the marriage in a past tense. Theodore and Samantha latch on to each other in a lonely city, in the end they both grow in ways that make their relationship difficult to maintain, and they go separate, ambiguous ways. When Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix) meets with his ex-wife Catherine (Rooney Mara) for lunch and divorce papers, the things she says about Theodore's emotional shortcomings could be cut-and-pasted into a conversation between Charlotte and John.
As for the threads that bind these films even closer together: another parallel is way they handle sex without making it physical. Both protagonists have had sex, but it left them unsatisfied. They need an intellectual connection in their lives, and that's where Bob/Samantha comes in. Both movies ask how two people who shared such an intimate part of their lives together could ever grow apart, and what to do when that situation finally comes along. Back in the real world (which is a hair's breadth away from the ones Jonze and Coppola have created) we know the answer, but it's a strangely wonderful experience seeing things progress for each protagonist.
It's too easy to call Her the counterpart to Lost in Translation, both are unique accomplishments that should stand out and could stand alone for their near-perfect screenplays and fresh perspectives, there's a sad beauty in pairing them together.
For context, Jonze and Coppola were married in 1999 (although they had been together for several years before that) and divorced in 2003, which was also the year Lost in Translation was released. It's pretty clear from the first viewing which film came closest chronologically to the divorce, as LIT is much more raw and, at times, bitter about the fact, while Her is a reflection on the failings of both parties involved. But all history aside, these movies connect on a deeper level. Lost in Translation follows the short-lived relationship of two lonely people who come together as friends to avoid the reality of being completely alone. Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) is in an unsatisfying marriage with her husband, a music video director named John (Giovanni Ribisi). As she navigates the foreign streets of Tokyo, she meets aged movie star Bob (Bill Murray) and strikes up a natural friendship with him. The only attraction is intellectual, and in the end they both go their separate ways. It's a little bittersweet, but it's the way of life. They were there for each other during a time when they desperately needed a human connection, and now that time is over, and they can move on.
What's intriguing, however, is that this short summary could easily be applied to Her if told from a male perspective with the marriage in a past tense. Theodore and Samantha latch on to each other in a lonely city, in the end they both grow in ways that make their relationship difficult to maintain, and they go separate, ambiguous ways. When Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix) meets with his ex-wife Catherine (Rooney Mara) for lunch and divorce papers, the things she says about Theodore's emotional shortcomings could be cut-and-pasted into a conversation between Charlotte and John.
As for the threads that bind these films even closer together: another parallel is way they handle sex without making it physical. Both protagonists have had sex, but it left them unsatisfied. They need an intellectual connection in their lives, and that's where Bob/Samantha comes in. Both movies ask how two people who shared such an intimate part of their lives together could ever grow apart, and what to do when that situation finally comes along. Back in the real world (which is a hair's breadth away from the ones Jonze and Coppola have created) we know the answer, but it's a strangely wonderful experience seeing things progress for each protagonist.