It’s been 15 years since Lost in Translation was released, changing the trajectory of its stars and director. But, even in today’s fast-moving world, the film still resonates.

The end of Lost in Translation is almost as incomprehensible as the film itself. Bob, played by Bill Murray, gets a second shot at a goodbye with Charlotte, wonderfully portrayed by Scarlett Johansson. The first goodbye in the hotel lounge plays at the viewer’s head, summoning youthful moments with a kindred spirit, your brain yelling “Kiss her! Kiss her!” but your arms never move and the moment fades into a sad awkwardness until you’re left with a muffled goodbye and a weighty what if. The second time, while riding a taxi, Bob sees Charlotte walking through the crowded streets of Tokyo and, this time, his body moves. When they find each other, the brief sadness washes away and he whispers something indecipherable into her ear, then they share a brief kiss. And the kiss itself isn’t pretty or over the top. Bob hasn’t swept her off her feet and whisked her to the car where they ride away — it seals the ending to a brief shot of time where two people lost in the frequency of the world found the same wavelength.

Lost in Translation turns 15 years old today and it’s still a film, whether you like it or not, that stands on its own merits. It’s a story that shouldn’t work but does. Sofia Coppola’s second film throws together two American strangers of different ages smack in the middle of a swanky Tokyo hotel, both dealing with a similar set of existential crises at separate points in their life. Bob, an aging movie star shilling whiskey for a few million bucks, and Charlotte, trying to find herself early in a marriage to her self-absorbed, materialistic, photographer-to-the-stars husband.

The movie is study in subtlety and patience. Our characters never interact for the first 45 minutes, except for a few awkward smiles as pleasant strangers, allowing us to understand how alone each are. Especially, in the backdrop of Tokyo with its neon lights, moon touching skyscrapers and wandering hoards amongst the cacophony of sounds outside the hotel windows. It’s only in the solace of the hotel, where the two meet by chance at the lounge bar after bouts of insomnia.

It’s after this meeting, we find out the movie is truly about two people adrift, unsatisfied by circumstance — a life that has little meaning. Bob becomes a mentor of sorts to Charlotte, he’s honest about life’s ups and downs but tells her that he isn’t worried about her. In Charlotte, Bob finds his youthful care-free bliss, drowning out the pressures of domestic life. The distance in age becomes less important, mostly, because they seem to have a mutual respect for the boundaries of their age and marriage.

But Sofia Coppola’s film was significant on many levels for all of its participants. Bill Murray was a washed-up movie star and Lost in Translation saw him perform heavier dramatic and artistic turns. Scarlett Johansson was a young actress, not a superstar nicknamed Scar-Jo instrumental to the success of a massive superhero franchise. And, Coppola, herself was defining herself outside the shadow of her father, Frances Ford Coppola.

It’s hard to fathom how Lost in Translation would be received today. The film was pasted together on a $4 million budget and grossed $119 million in its theatrical run in 2003. Subtle indie dramas didn’t have to compete with bloated CGI budgets and elaborate set pieces, nor did it have Netflix and companies, stealing the dramatic spotlights.

Maybe, Lost in Translation is actually a story about time. Not in the sense of its passing but of living in a moment as the film does. In today’s high-speed, connected world, Bob and Charlotte may never have stood a chance — liking each other’s posts or sending cute texts with emojis would’ve soured something special. Sometimes it’s just better to leave it unsaid, let the universe show you a glimpse and move on. Just thank the universe for its time, as Bob may have been thanking Charlotte in the street when they were pressed together. Maybe it’s better to not know what would’ve been.