Director: Jim Jarmusch
Year Released: 2005
Rating: 2.0
Aging Lothario (Bill Murray) discovers one of his former loves had his baby and raised it, but doesn't leave her name or return address, so he goes through the Rolodex of his life to find out which one it was. Jarmusch's deadpan style is both a curse and a blessing, aiding Murray in one way (the camera's impassive gaze doubles Murray's impassive gaze) but limiting the film in another, taking this lonesome character through this hall of weird women and coming out on the other side equally downhearted (the spinning camera at the end suggesting bewilderment?). The motley crew of lovers seem to come from different economic backgrounds and different temperaments in different parts the States, each carefully written so as to be as absurd as possible (a dog communicator? a daughter named Lolita? am I supposed to believe Murray's character could ever be with Swinton's character?). The script is so pat in so many ways, that the open-ended finale feels like a purposeful attempt to add depth and a sense of tragedy - at least at the end of Lost in Translation, Bill had a pretty ear to whisper into and a life to fly back to.
