Priscilla, 2023.
Written and Directed by Sofia Coppola.
Starring Cailee Spaeny, Jacob Elordi, Ari Cohen, Dan Abramovici, Rodrigo Fernandez-Stoll, Tim Post, Luke Humphrey, Dagmara Domińczyk, Jorja Cadence, Emily Mitchell, Josette Halpert, Deanna Jarvis, Tim Dowler-Coltman, R Austin Ball, Raine Monroe Boland, Tonia Venneri, Kamilla Kowal, Conni Miu, and Gwynne Phillips.
SYNOPSIS:
When teenage Priscilla Beaulieu meets Elvis Presley, the man who is already a meteoric rock-and-roll superstar becomes someone entirely unexpected in private moments: a thrilling crush, an ally in loneliness, a vulnerable best friend.
Priscilla is the antidote to the typical Hollywood celebrity biopic that can’t help itself from sanitizing the worst, most morally objectionable aspects of an individual to ensure that the average moviegoer will be comfortable watching the film and that box office profits will be respectable.
From the moment a 24-year-old Elvis Presley (Jacob Elordi) tells 9th-grader Priscilla Beaulieu’s (a revelatory Cailee Spaeny) parents he enjoys her company because she is “mature for her age,” it’s evident that while there may be some complicated genuine feelings here, this is a tale of grooming. Doubly infuriating is that supporting characters, such as Elvis’s grandmother, don’t bat an eye at this age gap and predatory behavior. Even Priscilla’s parents cave to Elvis’s advances on their daughter. It’s also an essential part of the story that Baz Luhrmann and his collaborators had no stones to explore in last year’s Elvis (it’s briefly acknowledged for all of two seconds) because putting out a movie honestly depicting Elvis Presley as a groomer doesn’t precisely put asses in seats.
To be fair, this is something I am personally bringing to the film, and I cannot say with certainty whether or not writer/director Sofia Coppola (based on the memoir Elvis & Me by Priscilla Presley and Sandra Harmon) intended Priscilla to be such a pertinent, astute counterpoint perspective to the way Hollywood romanticizes and idolize celebrities on-screen while washing away their sketchiest traits (or at least the irredeemable ones), but that’s the way this has happened and there is purpose in that timing.
Looking back to last year during the monumental praise of Elvis, not to mention the rampant Oscar buzz, there weren’t many people willing to engage with this problematic side left off-screen. People love cancel culture and canceling celebrities, but the second someone has a flashy, feel-good movie that does away with those aspects, the blinders go on while those same people tend to preach to let everyone have their fun. This is a movie that sees Elvis for who he really was, centered on how that impacted Priscilla every step of the way.
It’s rightfully fixated on Priscilla more than anyone, such as her endless loneliness while Elvis travels the world making music and movies, rarely calling to check in on her (she began living with him, rather conveniently, when she turned 17.) When he finds time to talk to her, it’s usually about himself, with no interest in the life he has cultivated for her. At one point, he gives her an ultimatum, choosing between him or her interest in a job, claiming that he needs her there at home when he wants to talk. Whenever Priscilla does contemplate leaving, pushing back, or trying to stand up for herself, like a master manipulator, Elvis also always seems to know the right thing to do or buy her to reel her back on his side.
Sofia Coppola does present the relationship with several degrees of nuance, with loving moments when Priscilla feels seen by Elvis or they share happy memories. The script also paints Elvis as a grieving loner with mommy issues that long outlast her death. It doesn’t excuse any of his predatory behavior, but there is a willingness to treat him like a flawed human being rather than a villainous caricature. It’s also worth pointing out that Jacob Elordi excels at portraying this uncomfortable side of Elvis.
Interestingly enough, while Elvis was deeply attracted to Priscilla, he always wanted to wait for sexual intercourse. He tended to save that for his Hollywood affairs, which naturally became tabloid gossip for Priscilla to read and justifiably become angry about. The point is that like some religious people (Elvis was heavily into Christianity and even enrolled Priscilla into a Catholic high school to graduate as part of their living arrangements agreed upon by him and her parents), Elvis seems to have wanted a girl that he could control and maintain pure, hypocritically not acknowledging the inappropriate nature of the relationship. This plays into the mommy issues, but it also means Priscilla was often left unsatisfied sexually and felt as if she wasn’t good enough for that.
The beauty of this character study comes from Cailee Spaeny’s astonishing performance, gradually evolving Priscilla as a person year by year. The first time she is in the room with Elvis, listening to him sing and play music on the piano, the cinematography from Philippe Le Sourd captures Priscilla’s heart racing like it’s going to burst out of her chest from love at first sight and this famous person infatuated with her.
As he leaves Germany and heads back to America without contacting her for two years, we can practically feel her heart breaking each time she turns over the calendar. She also begins to realize that this relationship isn’t all that it was cracked up to be and that while Elvis does harbor some sincere feelings for her, there is also an element of objectification and him wanting her to be a bored housewife mother who has to accept his affairs without receiving much sexual satisfaction. She delivers a subtle, spellbinding performance that deserves to be up for every Breakthrough Performer award category and even an Oscar nomination.
There is also the sensation that, as a film, Priscilla is everything one would expect it to be; a thoughtful, nuanced look at this problematic relationship with Sofia Coppola seems to be trying to understand herself with each subsequent scene. It’s also a coming-of-age story depicting the likelihood that romantically getting with your celebrity crush won’t deliver the paradise one expects, with that young girl changing into a woman, realizing she is not responsible for tending to her partner’s mommy issues, faults, failings, insecurities, and cruel expectations. Above all else, this is an incredible, seemingly authentic study of an inappropriate relationship in an age where biopics tend to be as bland and superficial as possible.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
