I’m sure you can see why I was compelled to make a movie like Lost in Translation. I’m an aged celebrity, I hope to have sex with young women, and I’ve been to Japan. Unfortunately, the film did not turn out at all like I wanted it to. The problem was the Japanese crew, who did not speak English good. Literally, the film I intended to make was lost in translation, and I got stuck with this weepy shit-fest instead.
Billymurray is a sad-sack old actor who visits Japan to make a whiskey commercial. He’s spends the whole movie quietly hateful and rich while looking like a lived-in basset hound. Like all bored old men, what he needs is a shot of young tail.
It just so happens there is a young tail down the hall from his hotel room. This lady is played by Red Johannason, one of the world’s more successful drag queens. She turns out to be a perfect match for Billmurray because, while he is old and bored, she is young and restless. Also, oddly huge knockers.
Her main problem is that she’s married to Giovanni Ribisi. Let’s all take a moment to reflect on the bravery of this young man. Not only did God decide to make him a retard, He robbed him of the usual consolation perks as well (super-strength, giant dong). Yet Giovanni gets up everyday and acts his little heart out, unwilling to let shortcomings stand in the way of success! We love you Giovanni and look forward to your forthcoming album, “Bathtub Farts Smell Different!”
Anyway, emo sparks fly when Billmurray and Johannason meet. They decide to get a cab and pretend to be Americans who have never heard of Japan before. They eat sushi, play videogames, go see an anime, go see a hentia, do some karaoke, drink sake, and buy panties from a vending machine. It’s the most exciting 45-minute montage you’ll ever see.
This day of discovery has brought them closer than they ever were before they met. Billmurray is not overstepping his boundaries by assuming the night will end with whoopie (not Goldberg). But of course, this cannot be. For one, she has a penis. And two, she just wants to be friends. “I’m too rich to have sex with old people,” she Twitters. “Can’t Billmurray and I just have a platonic relationship?” The answer to that question is
Shot down, he calls his wife for some companionship, but hangs up when she asks him to fly back to America and like her again. He calls his daughter’s cell, but hangs up when she asks him to listen to her poetry. He watches Meatballs on tv, and it really makes him feel like performing Harry Caray. He gets so sad at this point, that he starts to look like Bill Murray.
Just then he gets a phone call from Red Johannson, who tells him that she’s leaving Japan. He rushes out to catch her before it’s too late. She tolerates his goodbye hug, but uncomfortably wiggles out of his goodbye kiss. Acting out of hurt pride, he grips her arm and whispers: “I am going to hunt you down and kill you in the head with a rusted fucking shovel.” The Miramax guy made me mute this line because he felt it might put off the film’s potentially large female audience. Who’s laughing now, Harvey Mirimax?
Anyway, she drives off and he stands there. That’s how the movie ends. Like I’ve said before, critics will love your movie if you refuse to give it an ending. They call it “daring” and “complex”. But the reality is, if you don’t say anything, you eliminate the risk of saying something stupid. Here’s a story: once during a movie pitch, I was deeply unnerved by an executive who sat silent and unmoved throughout my whole presentation. As it turned out, he’d been dead for two hours.
Speaking of dead for two hours, don’t watch Lost in Translation unless you need sleep. Good night.