Life imitating art

From Bladerunner to Lost in Translation

Given the fact that Lost in Translation has to be one of my favourite movies and that it inspired me to move to Japan, it was imperative for me to visit the Park Hyatt hotel where it was filmed. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite stretch to a stay there, but I returned on a number of occasions with friends and family for some relaxing times.

There were four of us in the gleaming lift that ascended to the forty-something floor of the Park Hyatt hotel. It glided smoothly upwards. The interior was bathed in soft light. The doors opened with the delicate bing noise I remembered from the film. We stepped out into the airy atrium lobby with marble floors and glass pyramid roof. Beyond the palms and low tables, we could see Tokyo stretching out far below in the city haze.

We turned right and walked past the Girandole restaurant, pausing to admire the view and then through the library to the next set of elevators. The place was the epitome of refined taste and elegance; black marble, sumptuous carpets, exquisite lighting. Everything was designed to perfection. The second lift took us to the 52nd floor. I caught my reflection in one of the mirrors. I wished I was dressed in beautiful clothes. Something inside me ferociously wanted the wealth that could buy me this world of luxury. Once you taste it there is no going back.

The doors of the lift slid open to reveal the most stunning views, from the highest of the trio of skyscrapers. A wave of vertigo rushed through me as I looked down on flyovers and rooftops. I could see the luminous lights of Shinkjuku and beyond, the vast metropolis melding into the distant smog of the horizon.

An immaculately dressed Japanese waiter in a long white apron showed us to a table by the window. I ordered a champagne cocktail from the menu, while one of the guys suffered the embarassment of having to change into a pair of black trousers in the loos. Not that the dress code is particularly strict - they just don't like ragamuffins in cropped trousers turning up. Everything was exactly as it was in the film. I think even the waiters were the same. The only thing that was missing was the flame-haired jazz singer and Bob and Charlotte sitting at the bar.

Bob - "So what do you do?"
Charlotte - "Um, I not sure yet actually.
I just graduated last spring."
Bob - "What did you study?"
Charlotte - "Philosophy."
Bob - "Yeah, there's a good buck in that racket." (laughs)
Charlotte - "Well so far it's pro-bono."

I was sitting with three English guys. I had met one of them at an interview I did in London a few months ago. The other two were film students from Sussex University. My friend and ex-lecturer had put them in touch with me. They were on their way to LA to help him shoot a movie. I wished I was going with them. Instead I was stuck here in Tokyo. If only I knew that in six months time I would be back in England. Garth would have finished the film short and I'd be invited to the premiere in Los Angeles.


It was 6:30 pm. In the darkness, the city glowed with jewel-like lights. I half expected to see Bladerunner-esque plumes of fire shooting up from the towers. Erika and I had taken the train to Shinjuku to meet Miyoko at the Park Hyatt to celebrate her birthday. It had been my idea. An excuse really to splash out on LITs and Manhattans in my favourite bar. The train as usual, was packed but I immediately spotted a fellow westerner. He was a few feet away, wedged between a group of salary men near the door.

We took a cab to the hotel and were ushered in by white-gloved Japanese girls in dark skirt suits. From 7pm you have to pay a cover charge but we decided it would be worth it. The New York Bar hosts top jazz acts every night. Tonight it was to be a duo. A pianist and a saxophonist, whose name I was later to discover was James Butler. We perused the drinks menu, printed on high quality white card. What was it to be? I heard Bill Murray's voice in my head saying "For relaxing times, make it Suntory time."
I ordered a Bellini.

At around ten, the jazz had come to an end and so had my fifth cocktail, so we asked for the bill. At least the nuts were free. We took the first lift back down and walked through the library. At the end of the corridor we stopped to admire the view. From behind us I heard the distant bing of the elevator doors opening and then voices. I turned away from the window to see two men walking through the hall in our direction. They were the musicians. I smiled and said "great set, we really enjoyed it." The saxophonist stopped and came over. "Hey thanks, glad you enjoyed it. You know I saw you earlier. Do you remember?
I was standing next to you on the train from Tachikawa."

I returned to the Park Hyatt on two further occasions. Once was with my parents who had arrived in Japan that very same day. It was quite an introduction to Tokyo I think. The other time was with some friends from back home. It was January 2nd. In the morning we went to see the Emperor at the Imperial Palace. Later that afternoon we went to the hotel. It seems to have become a popular tourist spot now since the film - it was one of the sites on the Caterham boys' list of 'must see' places but I am not even sure that they saw it.

It is what I call 'the glamour effect'. Art begins by imitating life and in doing so, tends to glamorise it. After that, we try to reconstruct that glamour within our own life. Consequently, life attempts to imitate art. It is as if in doing so, we are creating and observing all the complex layers that make up the fabric of our reality. Movies looking at life. People watching movies. People recreating movies. The phenomenology of cinema. Someone should make a film about it.