AN ART BIMBO whose daddy happens to be movie royalty rides in on the tired back of Bill Murray and is proclaimed a new film genius. The genius' film, Lost in Translation, is the most pretentious, overrated movie of last year, about an alienated Yale brat who feels so lonely in her five-star hotel that she strips down to her panties and curls up on the windowsill every half-hour (accompanied by My Bloody Valentine and Jesus & Mary Chain, just in case you didn't get how much pain she's experiencing). Even Translation's pretty palette and indie minimalism couldn't hide the empty dual core of Coppola and her Tokyo alter ego. L.A. can have her in 2005; this year the bicoastal princess of pout kicks things off at #50.
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