Lost in Translation came out in 2003, and I just saw this movie. Some flick fan I am!

We all get around to some of the bigger, more impactful movies at our own pace. I also completed the first two Godfather films this past month as a part of the”Watch every Oscar winner for Best Picture” challenge on my Life List.

Lost in Translation just so happened to be the one movie that bumped almost every other movie I loved out of their top spots. With the exception of American Beauty, the romantic drama/comedy (it really had it all), is now my second favorite movie of all time. Starring Bill Murray, a young Scarlett Johansson, and directed by Sofia Coppola, the movie pierced the sensitive spots inside of me like a bullet. 

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There are so many themes in this movie. Love, loneliness and aging are just a few. The premise? Bob Harris (Bill Murray) is a super famous actor who is aging in a celebrity world where youth reigns. He is in Tokyo for business when he meets Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) a young woman whose own life is bogged down and serviced to the traveling needs of her new husband. More or less bound by the hotel, Charlotte runs into Bob in the hotel bar and continues to do so. Without acting fan on him, they develop a relationship that starts off sweet and friendly, with the exchange of witty jokes and half smirks that suggest understanding and comfort, although they know virtually nothing of each other.

Over the course of the movie, Bob starts to adapt to Charlotte; he enjoys human interaction for the first time in years. His wife, as he explains to Charlotte, is more concerned with material things (…oh, women), like the library’s new carpet color than any emotional context with her husband. His failing marriage and distance from his children is (assuming by what I gather from American society) draining the 20-plus-year marriage to the point of near divorce.

There is a scene when Charlotte invites Bob out to a club in Tokyo with some new friends she met during her stay. They sing karaoke, bar hop and feed off of each other’s (in the moment) happiness to a point that it could make the viewer cry. The extent of each of their true emptiness begins to feels so real. It is almost too much to watch. For once, the duo who have almost nothing in common are able to come together with the idea that they are both lost in the world; they are lost in Tokyo, dealing with an enormous culture barrier, but moreover, lost in their own lives. There is a subtly in the two character’s failing marriages. We know it is happening, but instead of dwelling on it- the movie lets us focus more on the developing relationships, built on this common ground.

The movie somewhat proves that no matter the location change, as far and wide as Tokyo, nothing cannot supplement severe loneliness like love can. If Lost in Translation showed me anything (fictional or not), it is that travel is only the first step in attempting to soul search. It takes more than just relocating. It takes going balls deep into a city; it takes meeting people and listening to yourself, adapting or not adapting to culture, in order to realize that maybe things home are not so bad, or perhaps, they are. 

There is an eeriness in this movie that is the idea that people, no matter the stature or stacked bank account, can be seriously unhappy. There is a hopefulness in this movie that gave me, and likely other viewers, the strength to hold on when everything around them seems wrong. There is enough depth in this movie to convince a soul-searcher that there is enough land in the world that has yet to be traveled and discovered, yet to be used as inspiration, with all the possibilities of one day finding yourself truly.

If you have not seen the movie, please, please, please, sit with some wine and take in its beauty and sadness. The story is unmatched, and I foresee it to be for years to come.

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- “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be.”
-”You’ll figure that out. The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.”

While I am neither on the level of the Queen of murder mysteries or have any qualifications self-helping people, I have a brain whose thought processes works in weird ways. Watch me ramble, you will see.  

Tuesday night, in order to knock off one more Oscar winner for Best Picture from my Life List, I watched No County For Old Men. The story was first told as a novel by Cormac McCarthy in 2005 and the flick came out two years later in 2007. I know, I am late for the train.

Directed by the Coen Brothers and starring Javier Bardem, Josh Brolin and Tommy Lee Jones, this film adaptation gave me fucking nightmares. Let me first start by saying this movie deserved its Oscar wins, which included Best Actor in a Supporting Role by Bardem. I suggest this movie to all whose stomach can handle painstaking suspense and bloodshed. It was freakishly good.

Texas hunter Llewelyn, played by Brolin, stumbles upon a drug trade gone wrong (dead Mexican drug traffickers galore) and in turn finds about $2 million in cash. He goes on to take the money but is soon pursued by Bardem’s crazy whacked out character, Anton Chigurh or “Sugar.” The killing starts almost immediately. This Chigurh nutcase carries around a Captive Bolt Pistol, used to slaughter livestock (and, spoiler alert: the Woody Harrelson character). It shoots a bolt into the head of the victim, which does not instantly kill. There is no ammo and is almost silent. For some reason, and I will blame it on the essence of manhood, the guys I was watching with knew all about this gun. Shiver. Basically, the Captive Bolt Pistol is a much different method of butchery often found in movies. I was anxious for a majority of the first half. Animals were dying, old people were dying, and I was nervous that Brolin’s cowboy sex appeal would leave me turned on and by my lonesome too early in the movie.

So between my heavy breathing, caused by non-existent sexual tension between Mr. Cowboy and I, and the suspense over which poor old man was going to get whacked next, I got up for another drink. I had to, it was becoming too much. I was scaring myself with thoughts. Right, Sarah, keep on drinking. That will make your crazy thoughts disappear!

I started to get really sucked into Bardem’s character, who showed no remorse for any living thing. He was everything that makes up a sociopath. Drunkenness took my mind to not only that place, you know, the dark and morbid corner of your brain but also something more enlightening. Hold on, I will explain.  

Certainly, no one wants to die. After watching Silence of the Lambs last week, when the Senator’s daughter helps the disguised killer move the couch into the van, I was shocked. Well, mostly because I could see myself doing that. Maybe because I am a nice person, or maybe because my common sense slips away from me sometimes. There are so many ways to be lured into traps. Even worse, there are so many innocent daily chores I go about where people could just come and scoop me up. Unfortunately, we hear stories of kidnapping, rape and murder every day. How can anyone ever be sure they will not end up in a ditch off of the Interstate, unidentifiable. No one can be too sure. And while movies like No Country for Old Men and Silence of the Lambs are glamorous, they still have me thinking twice about how I see a parking lot at night.

Then my thoughts took a jog deeper into the woods, searching for answers people have long had a hard time answering. At what point in a rage of anger does one come back down to reality before considering the benefits of investing in a Captive Bolt Pistol? Will I ever go off the deep end? While I can assure you I am quite the angel, what triggers some of the most seemingly normal people to go apeshit? Maybe continual humiliation and desperation. For some reason, and do not get scared for me, I could understand the hurt of rejection. When you are unable to move on, consumed with agony. Soon enough, you end up reenacting a Godfather gun down scene. I would rather a trip to Vegas with unlimited buffets and four straight nights of Chippendale’s to get over heartbreak, but I can only speak for myself.

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All the time you spend trying to get back what’s been took from you, more is going out the door.

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I was retreating back down from outer space and started to think of the technicalities involved in making a movie, and an award-winning movie at that. The hard work and dedication that goes into special effects, the talent of the actors, the skill of writing a good plot, editing and then selling it to a national audience. It is all so far beyond my comprehension. But I want to be part of the people who are productive and creates. I made great progress in the analyzing of the movie. I am glad I was able to move past the murder and mayhem and find something else to focus on- my future!

I obviously have no experience in film making or even a great interest. However, those creative people, including actors, directors and producers really did inspire me after seeing No Country For Old Men. So much to the point where I would feel less than happy with myself if I did not use my creativity to make something that others can enjoy. Actually, because this film was a book first, something I can wholly relate to, I long more for a creative line of work. I am talking about making a life for myself that is not too ordinary. While I put my faith in nurses and doctors quite often, I have no passion there. Tell me that Journalism majors have the highest unemployment rate of all the other fields and I will still not consider poking needles into people’s arms. Anyway, the credits rolled onto the screen and I just stared at their titles. First key, second key? What is that? Can I do it? Surely. Well then get off your ass, Sarah, and go do it!

Why did this blood-filled movie inspire me? It just did. Everything about it made me think a little more than let’s say, Beverly Hills Chihuahua might have. I know for sure, though, that I want to have my name out there. In whatever medium of art I take up for my career, I want to be able to inspire, or even scare people. Sometimes, being scared is good. It gives us a reason to reason with ourselves. When we are scared- of our future, of our deaths, of our nothingness, we make plans to buck up and build up. Fiction translates sometimes, and this right here, the impact of No Country For Old Men, translated into me wanting to be a part of something way bigger than myself; the realization that there is room out there for me, too.

First, allow a girl to talk about Paranormal Activity 3, which I saw last night. If you have not seen it yet and plan to, do not read any further. I do not want to ruin this movie for you like my sister ruined Titanic for me when I was 10 years-old (Jack dies! Dumb.)

If you have seen the first two, you will know they start off slow. I would like to say that this third installment of the creepy paranormal franchise is much more action-packed than the prior, by far.

Christopher Nicholas Smith plays Dennis. Yum!

It starts off with sisters Kristi and Katie filming her  new move-in and decorating of the nursery, eventually playing a childhood home video. That is what the movie is about. It shows the haunted sisters’ childhood which takes place in the 1980′s. The two little girls in the movie are absolutely precious. The littlest girl, Kristi (who goes batshit crazy in PA2) is so damn adorable, I could not handle it, the acting was good, too.

There is Toby, Kristi’s imaginary friend who wreaks havoc on the household by picking up furniture and hiding it in the cabinets, terrorizing the babysitter Lisa (one of the best parts of the movie) and running back and forth in a black form when Katie and another character, Randy, perform Bloody Mary in the bathroom (not Kristi as portrayed in the previews). However, I was scared out of my mind.

Overall rating: 8 out of 10. The ending blew. I mean, we knew who was going to die, but what is the deal with that creepy grandmother? What is the covenant? Did she kill her own daughter because she refused to have anymore children? Children that needed to be sacrificed for the good of evil? Confusing. Do help a sister out.  There better be a fourth or it will take away all of the good creepiness out of the three.

If you plan on seeing it due to previews on the television, think twice. None of those scenes are actually in the movie. Boohoo.

Don't hold your breath for this scene.

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Top 3 Horror Movies

3. The Exorcist

This 1973 classic entails all the makings of a great horror movie. Directed by William Friedkin, this film is adapted from the real life exorcism of Robbie Mannheim. Check out the case and other true stories here. This film focuses on the exorcism of a young girl, Regan, played by Linda Blair, who is possessed by evil demons after interacting with spirits through a Ouija Board. Her mother brings her to a doctor after she portrays unusual behaviors, who blame nerves for her actions. Regan’s situation only gets worse with time, and by worse I mean by taking on demonic features, psychotic behavior around anyone, speaking Latin and head-spinning craziness. Her mother takes on the help of Father Karras who is more or less Regan’s only hope for a cure. The end is sad and slightly unpredictable. You will not sleep for a while after this one.

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2. The Sixth Sense

Bruce Willis plays Dr. Malcom Crowe in this 1999 M. Night Shyamalan thriller that sometimes makes me wonder if I am the walking dead. Well, not really, but what a great concept. This movie was the first to take that idea and perfect it. Dr. Crowe, a child psychiatrist takes on a troubled little boy, Hayley Joel Osment as Cole, and befriends him. The problem with Cole is more than just a severe social problem, he can communicate with dead people. Dr. Crowe takes too long to realize that Cole is the only person that ever talks or sees him throughout the majority of the movie (aside from the beginning).  The puzzling mystery of Dr. Crowe’s divorce and his project, Cole, brings for great edge of the seat suspense. The ending brings tears, though. Should I not admit that? I am an honest woman.

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1. The Shining

This creepy flick filmed and directed by the brilliant Stanley Kubrick in 1980 takes the number one spot. Starring a young and handsome Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall (she played Olive Oyl in Popeye the same year) were part of the best horror film I can say I have ever seen. Based on the Stephen King novel, Jack Torrance (Nicholson) goes insane as he takes residence in an off-season hotel to work on his novel with wife and young son, Danny. Nicholson begins to go crazy because of the hotel, setting out to murder his wife and son. See it immediately. Everything about this movie will give you the chills. No ground-breaking special effects needed, just good ol’ fashioned scares.

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What are your favorite scary movies? Let us know!