Marie Antoinette

by Ari

Sofia Coppola is arguably the most exciting American filmmaker to emerge in the last decade. A filmmaker of singular vision and a natural understanding of cinematic language, her art is particularly expressive of the ideas and emotions that move her most. While her debut feature, The Virgin Suicides, introduced an undeniable talent, her follow-up and breakthrough success, Lost in Translation, delivered something personal and deep, simple yet profound. Lost in Translation announced Sofia Copppola as a pivotal voice in contemporary film, earning her well-deserved accolades and acclaim. Film runs in the blood of the Coppola family, and Sofia is establishing herself as one of the most original storytellers working today. Her fascinating new picture, Marie Antoinette, confirms her place as a filmmaker that demands to be seen.

Marie Antoinette is an interesting amalgam of ideas and sensibilities, a movie with an astounding visual flair and bizarre, somewhat excessive anachronistic style. This is a detailed and eloquent film, visually assured and highly ambitious. And while the meticulous and accomplished craftsmanship makes a sumptuous experience, it’s not exactly the most emotionally involving. Marie Antoinette is anything but a standard historical epic, a story focused exclusively on the personal experiences the young Austrian faced when shipped to Versailles to marry the future King of France. The history of the period is hardly explored, but the period is magnificently recreated. Politics are mentioned on very few occasions. The story is from Antoinette’s point-of-view, so the viewer discovers everything about the world along with her. Most of the time is spent glimpsing into the many daily activities she takes part in. Coppola creates a vivid picture of Marie Antoinette’s personal life, regardless of how historically accurate it actually is. Her presentation of the character works cinematically, obviously the most important aspect of a dramatic feature. The only drawback is that not a whole lot happens to develope any significant emotional attachment to the situations occurring. And while that lack of excitement may be indicative of the character, it doesn’t do much to compel the audience watching her. When the film has the opportunity to establish a strong dramatic tone, it strangely skips over it in favor of lesser material.

What Coppola does is paint a visually complex portrait of Marie Antoinette, one that’s beautiful to watch instead of fulfilling to experience. Because Coppola possesses such powerful visual sensibilities, her portrait is more than worthwhile. It’s a testament to her abilities that a film light on emotional investment is fascinating to watch. There’s a serene beauty to the imagery and an almost charming simplicity to the character, leaving a peculiar, but lasting impression. Coppola’s stylistic choices are fitting to Antoinette’s experiences, adding a potent pop edge to what is otherwise an extremely classical endeavor.While the trailers may indicate a lively and exuberant film experience, the actual film is basically the polar opposite. Marie Antoinette is Barry Lyndon meets Lost in Translation, a film paced like the former with thematic similarities to the latter. Coppola presents another story of a character dealing with internal strife and looking for escape, turning to the people and things that make her feel alive.

Antoinette’s world is one of manners, customs, and expectations, an overwhelming onslaught of pressure. She was a young girl after all, put into a situation far beyond her emotional understanding. The customs are “ridiculous” to her, the daily pass-times tedious and lifeless, and her notoriety emotionally harmful. No matter how much has changed culturally, people have always faced the same personal difficulties. It’s this idea that gives her contemporary style an affecting edge. This choice escapes the amateurish results a lesser filmmaker would certainly have. Coppola’s vision is vast and sophisticated - direction by someone who clearly knows what they’re doing.

It’s in the casting that her choices approach a playfulness that works against the film. The moment Rip Torn makes his first appearance is incredibly amusing, simply because it’s Rip Torn dressed up like an 18th Century King and essentially playing himself. He’s funny because he’s Rip Torn, and it seems that Coppola meant it to be that way. The same goes for other minor supporting roles with recognizable faces, from SNL stars to Asia Argento. The style creates a bizarre illusion of period France, something unlike anything I’ve seen before. The leads, Kirsten Dunst and Jason Schwartzman, are both excellent. The casting may seem like something out of a bad Marie Antoinette stage-play, but it works within the context of the story and the style at hand. I don’t for a minute believe Kirsten Dunst is Marie Antoinette, but I certainly found myself interested and charmed by her performance. She’s right for this particular style, as is Schwartzman as Louix XVI. He’s always entertaining and amusing, and his character’s shy personality and sexual insecurity is something he can easily play. It takes a long time for their relationship to blossom, but when it does, it’s one of the film’s greatest pleasures.

The first half of Marie Antoinette contains some wonderfully dry humor as she enters a new chapter of her life in France. Getting acquainted with everything and everyone new is the best material. It’s in the second act that her character is lacking in development. While it can be argued that a limited emotional arc is indeed truthful to the young character, something more dramatic is needed to maintain interest. The second act slowly treads along, sometimes nearing tedium, sometimes inspiring a reaction. When Coppola can take the character into a more complex direction, she instead opts for more sequences of her doing what we’ve already seen. It’s not enough to completely distance the viewer, but it’s certainly not concise and even.

Not enough can be said about the visual mastery of this film. Marie Antoinette is easily the most exquisitely shot film this year, a film with awe-inspiring sights so rich and detailed it becomes staggering. From the costumes to the lighting, the visual composition is the stamp of a filmmaker with exceptional film-literacy and an eye for natural beauty. Much has been said about the use of contemporary music, but it fits nicely into a soundtrack that also includes classical and opera. Coppola uses music particularly well, and like Lost in Translation, her choices greatly add to the atmosphere of the story.

Marie Antoinette is original and beautiful despite its flaws and peculiarities, a work of a talented filmmaker developing her gifts.