“Holy shit! Was that a monkey?” – me while watching Marie Antoinette

Have I properly expressed my love and adoration of Sofia Coppola yet? I love this project because great art opens doors. If you’re willing to engage in self-reflection, you can learn a lot about yourself and the world around you. I was struck, several times throughout the runtime, by revelations. I make notes when consuming various forms of art and media and afterward, I graze my notes and begin the process of asking myself questions about why certain things stand out to me — why I interpret things the way that I do.

Watching Marie Antoinette hit me in different ways than when I first saw the film, fourteen years ago. I like it a helluva lot more now than I did then, placing it firmly in my “I love this film” category. What hit me the hardest, watching Kirsten Dunst expertly play this historical figure trying to navigate a world of excess, inconvenience, and rigid adherence to ridiculous custom, is about the fragile nature of our personal identity. I don’t think anyone ever knows who they truly are. We are constantly searching for it. If not, we’re giving up on the mysteries of life, instead settling into a depression by realizing who we are not. Great art helps us decipher the type of artist we want to be and for the record, everyone is some kind of artist. It’s in there somewhere, in each of us, we just need that spark to light the way.

So, how does Coppola manage to pull these musings from us? She employs several tactics to get her point across. This, her third film, shows incredible self-confidence and it makes our journey easier. First, Coppola uses pop music to set a tone in her films better than anyone. Yes, she’s better than QT, better than Wes Anderson, and better than Martin Scorsese. Using pop songs in a film set just before the French Revolution in the 18th century sounds like an anachronistic gimmick but Coppola’s choices are deliberate and perfect. They add a layer to every scene — evoking the despair and ennui of isolation and then the wild debauchery of youth gone wild. Next, the production and costume design are sublime. Coppola even leaves in modern fashion flourishes to further embellish this tale. She then uses subtle camera movements and expert scene blocking to provide us a specific feeling toward her work. The cinematography and shot composition combine to make the film resemble an oil painting come to life. She does more with this later as it all reverses and she literally tells a portion of the story through actual oil paintings. It’s an incredible reverse technique and when that pin drops, it injects the viewer with an extra dose of dopamine. It’s akin to the film becoming a silent film and then changing back — simply awesome. Early on, her storytelling is extremely visual, sparse dialog allowing the music, score, and camera to tell the story. The dialog increases and it’s full of gossip, back-biting, and royal fuckery creating an atmosphere that is gloriously bitchy.

What I’m getting at is that Coppola found a way to un-stuff the period piece.

The film spends most of it’s first half chronicling Marie Antoinette’s isolation inside this royal family. She’s different and everyone knows it. She doesn’t fully understand their ridiculous customs and finds herself surrounded by vapid enemies all searching for a crack in her armor. Everyone wants what she has and her standing is on precarious ground. MA feels this pressure but through sheer will, she begins to bend the royals to her will. The shot of her signature on the marriage certificate is incredible. Where everything else is done with precision, her signature is messy and crooked, ending with a splotch of misplaced ink. She is the dominate force here and everyone else will have to catch up. In fact, I could make the argument that she is us. Nothing makes sense to her in this new life and while she will adapt to a degree, she will fight to maintain her own identity. It all comes to a head when she convinces everyone to sneak out of the royal palace in order to attend a masked ball. The scene is amazing — reminiscent of the Lisbon sisters at homecoming and Bob and Charlotte’s big night out in Tokyo. These kids are breaking free of the rigid confines of their societal and royal obligations. Their lack of adherence to the rules, put simply, rules.

We could try and tackle the actors in their specific roles but Dunst blows everyone else off the screen. She owns every single frame of this film. The only other actor who even comes close to matching her electricity on screen is Rose Byrne. She is pure spunk as MA’s number one co-conspirator.

Instead of specific performances, everyone works in concert to create a vibe. This is what Coppola wants here above all else — put the viewer in the story. As the story progresses we become unable to tell the difference between everyday life and pageantry. It’s something that wears people out and drags them down. Nothing is ever quite like the first time. It’s here where Coppola’s ultimate intent becomes clear. Sure, she is telling an expert story about a woman attempting to break free of the shackles placed upon her by a male dominated society but it’s also about celebrity and tabloid. We can draw direct parallels between 18th century French royal society and that of Hollywood today. We are obsessed by the magnitude of their charisma and hang on their every whim while also reveling in their downfall. It sucks but it’s also a symptom of our frail relationship with our own egos. Coppola even finds time for the famous “let them eat cake” line with a clear rebuke to its attribution to MA. She never said it. In fact, MA was blamed by the poor and downtrodden for many things that were not her fault. Just like today, it’s easy for us to overlook the true villains, instead focusing on others.

By the end of the film, MA is forced to flee her home. The final image is one of her bedroom, now destroyed by rioters. It’s an interesting choice in that the decor at its peak is so ornate and gaudy, it doesn’t look all that different once destroyed. This is life full circle. A girl comes to France alone, wills the country to view her in her own way, creates a tight circle of vibrant friends, and watches it all fade away like old laundry until she is alone again. If you watch closely, you’ll see the use of color in increasing intensity until it fades to more subdued tones. Our birth. Our life. Our death. The only thing we can control is who we strive to be.

Next week, Somewhere. Until then, love each other.