It’s been a while since I’ve seen a film as funny and as beautiful as Lost In Translation.

It was short and punchy, the pace was faultless. I hate most films because they labour under their need to explain everything in so much detail. I’m tired from LOTRs and Matrices, but Lost is perfectly respectful of the abilities of it’s audience. Every scene seemed to fall effortlessly into place as it explores the energy of a new relationship.

I don’t know what to say really. I just loved it. It was perfect. All the way through Murray gets the punchlines. Coppola gives him quality stuff and he runs with it. He’s often absolutely hilarious. It defines him, his character is so close to what we know of the man himself, just as Johansson is young, having the kind of post-grad anti-crisis that myself and my friends are so familiar with. The tenderness between them is splendid and rich. You feel the love of both, as friends, family or lovers, but also the superior qualities of their relationship. Something about it that just elevates it beyond the average cinema romance, something in the truth of it.