Somewhere, sometime, somehow, someone was bound to film an ode to asynchronosis, A/K/A "jet lag". This annoying psychological/physical ailment is common coin among the majority culture, so this shared experience should provide instant recognition, if not understanding, for the mass audience.
Supposedly, director Sofia 'Daughter of' Coppola dragged her cast out of bed in the middle of the Asian night to film scenes set in that exact time frame. When the cast seems sleepless in the wee hours, they really are. All of us can nod knowingly and remember. My memories are of a place called Ouchamps, France, where to look out the window at 3am is to see the one light shining for miles in the middle of nowhere. Bill Murray and his character of Bob can remember the Tokyo Park Hyatt Hotel.
If you're not old enough to remember Bill Murray's SNL/Caddyshack salad days, you can't possible understand the Proustian self-parody of the old man, a has-been actor, realizing that he is, in fact, a has-been actor and is doing so in the context of a movie in which he has deliberately been cast as a has-been actor. No wonder that they weren't sure he'd do it until he showed up on day one of the shooting schedule.
This film won the Oscar for best original screenplay, but it could more accurately be described as the best-assembled film composed of largely improvised dialogue spoken by jet-lagged performers zombie-walking through the Japanese night. Strange but true: I cringed in recognition, but I loved it.
Supposedly, director Sofia 'Daughter of' Coppola dragged her cast out of bed in the middle of the Asian night to film scenes set in that exact time frame. When the cast seems sleepless in the wee hours, they really are. All of us can nod knowingly and remember. My memories are of a place called Ouchamps, France, where to look out the window at 3am is to see the one light shining for miles in the middle of nowhere. Bill Murray and his character of Bob can remember the Tokyo Park Hyatt Hotel.
If you're not old enough to remember Bill Murray's SNL/Caddyshack salad days, you can't possible understand the Proustian self-parody of the old man, a has-been actor, realizing that he is, in fact, a has-been actor and is doing so in the context of a movie in which he has deliberately been cast as a has-been actor. No wonder that they weren't sure he'd do it until he showed up on day one of the shooting schedule.
This film won the Oscar for best original screenplay, but it could more accurately be described as the best-assembled film composed of largely improvised dialogue spoken by jet-lagged performers zombie-walking through the Japanese night. Strange but true: I cringed in recognition, but I loved it.