(USA, 97 min.)
Written and directed by Sofia Coppola
Starring: Stephen Dorff and Elle Fanning.
It’s an odd coincidence to review Somewhere the same week that I’m beginning a unit on auteur theory with the first year class that I’m TA-ing. Sofia Coppola seems tailor made to fit both the criteria and the contradictions of the theory. She suits the profile of an auteur because she writes, directs and produces her own films, and, therefore, enjoys a high degree of control over her projects. She also has a discernable style, namely a minimalist aesthetic combined with a catchy indie-pop soundtrack. Finally, her films demonstrate consistent themes and preoccupations, most notably a fascination with disillusioned young girls. If Coppola meets the fundamentals of the theory, then why can one not champion her as an auteur? It seems the answer lies in what so often proves to be the restricting feature of auteur theory: the isolated masterpiece.
Somewhere is a noteworthy achievement for Coppola’s continued display of her mastery of filmmaking. Somewhere also showcases a sense of maturity in Coppola’s work, as she has demonstrates considerably the art of less is more. Throughout the episodic narrative structure of Somewhere, Coppola offers the viewer fleeting glimpses of Johnny’s career in which one can sense the malaise of being a celebrity. Coppola makes particularly strong use of extended moments of silence, but then counteracts that with some spot-on satire: one cannot help but wonder if the press conference in which Johnny fields a series of inane queries from pseudo-intellectual reporters is Coppola’s way of flipping the bird to a society that valorizes celebrity. Coppola also heightens the superficiality of Johnny’s career through static camerawork and striking shifts between deep and shallow focus.
As with all of Coppola’s films, the film is driven by the quality of the writing and the strong rapport between the lead performers. Dorff and Fanning are wholly convincing as the father-daughter team: each actor radiates in the presence of the other, and Dorff particularly displays some fine subtle moments when Johnny becomes desperately sullen in the absence of his daughter. Much of the success of the two stellar performances results from the strength of Coppola’s script and direction, which is mature enough (and brave enough) to allow each actor extended screen-time in which they can explore their character more fully and creatively. (Fanning’s preparation of Eggs Benedict is especially memorable.) Coppola’s choice to emphasize character and performance renders the despair of Johnny’s separation from Cleo all the more palpable by the end of the film.
Like Lost in Translation, Somewhere resists narrative closure. As was the case with the former film, Somewhere might initially puzzle the viewer through its ambiguous conclusion. With both films, however, Coppola demands a thorough re-engagement with the text, and as a result, Somewhere is more likely to wow audiences a few days after seeing it, rather than during the post-screening afterthought. It’s a work of art whose greatness, unfortunately, is lessened only within her greater body of work. More importantly, though, Somewhere proves that when it comes to making great films, Sofia Coppola is no one-trick pony. Rather, she is merely preparing audiences to expect more works of such mature insight and artistic flair.