Sad Girl (™) Core: Priscilla and Marie Antoinette in Conversation

In her 8th feature film, Sofia Coppola is in rare form. Priscilla is as ethereal, glamorous, delicate, and soft as the movie poster’s calligraphic typeface and hazy photo of the Presleys embracing suggests. Coppola’s established vision and aesthetic were reason enough to reel me in on this venture into rock royalty’s past, but then she gives us the opportunity, nay, privilege to delight in the onscreen talent of Cailee Spaeny in the titular role, and Jacob Elordi as her larger-than-life cultural icon of a husband. All that coupled with the fact that Sofia’s own husband and his band, Phoenix, collaborated with her to create a soundtrack that perfectly matches the vibes and pacing of the story (but didn’t include any actual Elvis songs, a fact that has been adequately reported on), amounts to a film that damn near brought me to tears simply because I’m happy it exists.

Priscilla thankfully received a SAG-AFTRA interim agreement during the—what I’m dubbing—Great Actor’s Strike of 2023, and upon release of the promotional materials and aforementioned movie poster, with its solo name title and refined design, I could tell I was going to be tallying up the similarities between this film and others of the director’s repertoire, most obviously, 2006’s Marie Antoinette. Coppola’s posters set the tone for the overall feel of the movie, and while Priscilla’s almost ribbon-like typeface indicates a kind of grace, Marie’s is a punchy sans serif reminiscent of a Sex Pistols poster. Both Priscilla and Marie Antoinette are ultra femme in the title design’s color (a powder blue and hot pink respectively), which indicates for me that I’m going to get exactly what I want from a Sofia Coppola film—a hot take on coming of age as a woman. Coppola is so good at maintaining a level of maturity in her movies while representing the idiosyncrasies of girlhood, and these are prime examples: Both are about two young girls having to grow up very quickly in the public eye, and what it must have been like navigating that without much help. Having attended Hyperreal’s screening of Marie Antoinette at the Elisabet Ney Museum back in April, I know I’m not the only one who recognizes that movie as one of her best. I view it as my personal favorite of hers, though Priscilla is giving Marie a run for her money.

Obviously, an auteur of any kind is going to have similarities between their works. Sofia’s father, Francis Ford Coppola, is known for his hypermasculine films of war and mafiosos, while his daughter creates exceptionally feminine atmospheres to tell women’s stories in her own. That’s not to say she is pigeon-holed into one genre—that would be unfair—but where she really excels at showing a mirror up to the face of the female psyche is in her lonely Sad Girl™ movies a la Priscilla and Marie Antoinette.

Both are based on books about the real life title characters: Priscilla: “Elvis and Me” written by Priscilla Presley with Sandra Harmon; Marie Antoinette: “Marie Antoinette: The Journey” by Antonia Fraser. Certainly adapting from a historical biography about a person who existed centuries ago would be difficult in terms of having to inject an interpretation of someone’s personality into their scripted words. Coppola’s understated dialogue in Marie Antoinette speaks, literally, to the loneliness and disconnect the protagonist feels within her gilded cage, but also offers up a way for the viewer to interpret the events how they see fit. While an autobiography of someone still living is more likely easier to pull direct quotes from, it also presents its own challenges of having to satisfy the actual figures represented. But Coppola lucked out, having Priscilla Presley herself bless the production and even join on as a producer, stating that seeing the film was like reliving her past.

Coppola has made it evident throughout her career that visuals rich in detail and an artfully photographic aesthetic are marks that set her apart from her contemporaries. Marie Antoinette is truly a feast for the eyes. From having legendary French patisserie Ladurée create the film’s many decadent onscreen deserts, to being able to actually shoot inside of the real Palace of Versailles, to the costumes worthy of their Oscar, it’s clear that Coppola invested heart and soul into the production. We have her background in fashion and photography to thank for these gifts, and she was able to masterfully put them to use again in Priscilla, this time trading baroque blonde wigs for black beehive ones. Shooting at Graceland was not an option, so sets were built in Toronto that recreated the iconic estate and its trademark entrance gates*. The thoughtfulness of the set decorations and graphic design props are equally as impressive, as we see period-authentic branded products and various ephemera with Mr. Elordi’s Elvis countenance sprinkled throughout the film. This is most notable in the scenes during the two year gap in their relationship after Elvis goes back to the States, leaving Priscilla to pine over posters, magazines, and record jackets of him gazing back at her. It’s this attention to detail and artistry that defines the S. Coppola canon.

The fact that the two movies are based on the lesser-known side of stories that are relatively well-known demonstrates Coppola’s interest in women’s perspectives. She said she originally picked out Presley’s book as a juicy beach read, but was then intrigued by similarities she saw between her experience moving through her father’s world, and Priscilla’s navigating an even bigger monumental figure.  She wanted it to be entirely from Priscilla’s point of view and show us what it was like for her in the moments that happened behind closed doors, like the instance when Elvis throws a chair in Priscilla’s direction after she voices an opinion that he didn’t particularly agree with. She is visibly shaken but doesn’t want the situation to spiral so she internalizes her own emotions for the sake of calming Elvis down. This was a specific occurrence that Priscilla wrote about in her book and Coppola visualized it with a compassionate and intimate approach. The setting of this scene is darkly lit and smoky in Elvis’s office, and after a series of cutting back and forth between Elvis and Priscilla, the chair is thrown and the rest of the scene is focused exclusively on her so the audience can see how she processes the experience. There is no background music and we are solely with her in that moment, connecting and empathizing with her.

It’s scenes like these where Coppola exemplifies her ability to hone in on the fragility of her character’s situation and the strength she has to summon to continue through it. The director has a firm grasp on what it feels like to be a girl growing up and becoming a woman, and the feminine urge to show people what it looks like. In short, let Sofia Coppola make a movie about every woman who’s ever lived.  

*There’s a cute moment in the short film by Liv McNeil, Making of Priscilla, where Coppola’s two teenage daughters visit the set and she very sweetly asks them to take a picture in front of the gates of Graceland, and in true teenage fashion they scoff at her request, but are all too excited to get a photo with Jacob Elordi.