After yesterday, this is probably the nicest day we've had thus far this year. And I'm stuck in my office, printing and collating copies of everything I've ever handed out in class, as required for my third-year re-appointment review (the first step in the tenure process). This involves an alarming amount of paper-- one more black mark on the tenure system, no doubt. I can see the bumper stickers now: Tenure Kills Trees!

Anyway, I need to take a break from that for a little bit, and this would seem an opportune time to indulge in some movie commentary before the Oscars tonight.

Kate and I rented the DVD of Lost in Translation last night. This is a movie I've wanted to see (though, obviously, not badly enough to pay to see it on the big screen) since I heard an outline of the plot. Having spent some time in Japan, and enjoyed it tremendously, the idea of a movie about Americans wandering around Tokyo in a daze was pretty appealing.

It's an extremely odd little movie, all in all, and it's a little tough to understand the hype. There's not a whole lot of there there, really. There are some great scenes, and Scarlett Johansson is cute, but Bill Murray is basically playing a less zany version of the same character he played in Rushmore, and nothing much happens. The Oscar buzz is really sort of puzzling.

As I said, though, there are some great bits. If you've ever said "I wish there were a really great cinematic depiction of jet lag," well, look no further. This movie does a great job of conveying the heavy, unable-to-sleep daze that settles in why you fly halfway around the world. I knew exactly what the characters were feeling.

When you're dealing with Japan, of course, the jet lag problem is exacerbated by, well, being in Japan, and the movie does a wonderful job of capturing the fundamental unreality of Tokyo. The high-speed collision of Western and Eastern cultures in that city is enough to leave you a bit dazed even when you're well rested and used to the time zone. It's a weird clash of Zen simplicity and cyberpunk gadgetry: Neon signs next to Shinto shrines; people in kimono wearing cell phones at a tea ceremony; Japanese teenagers dressed as cowboys playing guitar next to the Meiji Shrine. It's a strange, strange place, and that's even before you start talking about karaoke and Japanese television (both of which are handled well in the film, though I wish they'd shown more of the wonderfully odd videos they tend to attach to Western pop tracks in karaoke bars).