Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla directly rebukes Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis

Sofia Coppola adds a delicate touch Priscilla, the A24 biopic of Priscilla Presley (née Beaulieu), who married Elvis Presley in 1967 and divorced him six years later. The film becomes empty in its final act, a result of a scattered structure that’s more focused on following a real-world chronology than following character drama to its most rigorous emotional outcomes. But until then, it’s held together by Coppola’s gentle take on Priscilla’s story, which she unfolds in a pair of brilliant, alluring performances.

Priscilla feels like it’s descended from Coppola’s 2006 historical drama Marie Antoinette, in which the French queen is imprisoned as a doll in an ivory tower. A similar approach in Priscilla sees the title character framed with vulnerability, as if Elvis could destroy her at any moment.

It plays like a rebuff to Baz Luhrmann’s 2022 Oscar-nominated biopic Elvis, in which the duo’s marriage is based solely on Elvis’ experience and the isolating effects of his growing fame. Their relationship flows from the story of Elvis’ career, but without revealing how Priscilla was also isolated from the world. Elvis also completely ignores an important detail that could have further complicated the icon’s historical legacy: when the couple first met in 1959, the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll was 24 years old, and his eventual queen were all 14 years old.

Coppola’s film has no qualms about addressing their age difference. It is based on Priscilla’s 1985 memoir Elvis and meand even though Priscilla says she does enjoyed it immensely Luhrmann’s film and Coppola’s version play as a historical course correction in the artistic framing of the events. She makes few changes to Priscilla’s memory of the events, but every cinematic decision is sharp, as if she doesn’t want to just address the limitations of Luhrmann’s story. Elvisbut to reframe Elvis Presley’s image in the public consciousness through an intimate look at his most important romantic relationship.

The two films approach reality completely differently. from Luhrmann Elvis is a wacky acid trip that borders on camp, with Austin Butler playing Elvis by throwing himself headfirst into the king’s iconic physicality. Priscillaannounced shortly afterwards Elvis‘ release, had been in the making for much longer, but it can’t help but exist in conversation with Luhrmann’s film, as it taps into the gaps between Luhrmann’s wild, eclectic montages to present a more methodical character drama. That starts with Coppola’s choice to play Elvis: Jacob Elordi, as a softer but emotionally unpredictable version of the man, which suits her more naturalistic drama, just as Butler perfectly suited Luhrmann’s operatic vision.

But Coppola’s secret weapon is Cailee Spaeny, whom she casts as Priscilla on advice by Marie Antoinette star Kirsten Dunst. Standing at a height of 6 feet tall, Spaeny is physically dwarfed by the 6 foot tall Elordi, who towers over her in every scene. This height difference is much greater than that of the real Elvis and Priscilla, but Coppola uses it to her advantage, increasing the age and creating the gap between them. Priscilla seems enamored with Elvis, and Elvis has a tenderness about him, but their different sizes and the framing of the camera encourage viewers to consider the dynamics that Priscilla may not see, or that Elvis would rather ignore.

The costume design is also a key factor in Priscilla’s trajectory and works in tandem with Spaeny’s performance. The film’s opening images are of a heavily made-up Priscilla – as she eventually appeared to the rest of the world – in a scene that exists as if outside of time and solely within the public imagination. But behind this iconography there is also a story, which Coppola immediately establishes when she introduces viewers to 14-year-old Priscilla at the American military base in Germany, where her father is stationed, near where she meets Elvis. As she sits at the dining room table reading a heavy textbook, she has the neat demeanor and demeanor of someone young and sheltered, a teenager who hasn’t yet learned to rebel or pursue what she wants.

Spaeny portrays that emotional immaturity with stunning physicality. As a uniformed stranger approaches her to strike up a conversation, towering over her as Elvis does throughout the rest of the film, silent alarm bells go off as we are left to wonder why this grown man is with a 14 year old speaks. one year old girl sitting all alone.

It turns out that this man is one of Elvis’ friends, who invites Priscilla to meet the king at a party at his private home. It’s a glamorous, dreamlike proposition, but the subtle discomfort in Spaeny’s performance suggests viewers should be on edge, even if nothing overtly sinister comes out of their conversation. Is this man some kind of predatory envoy, who knows that Elvis “thinks they’re young”? Or are his numerous attempts to convince Priscilla’s parents to let her go to Elvis’ party merely the kindness of a fellow fan who recognizes that Priscilla is lonely?

Perhaps the truth lies in an uncomfortable middle ground, as is the case for Elvis himself. Elordi’s portrayal varies between knowing and conflicting about their difference in age and sexual experience. But the film doesn’t solve the mystery of whether his dilemmas are an achievement for Priscilla. Coppola chooses the emotional insecurity that Priscilla herself would have felt if Elvis was hot and cold with her.

Spaeny’s embodiment of this uncertainty is wonderful. The film eventually loses its dramatic momentum and devolves into vignettes and flashes from the duo’s later lives. Coppola strings these together with a purpose in mind, setting the stage for the couple’s separation, but without plotting character trajectories or capturing the dilemmas behind their key decisions.

Yet Spaeny’s performance is a crucial dramatic pivot. She knows how to find a careful balance between desire and trepidation. In Coppola’s wide shots of the couple in bed, Spaeny puts on a performance clinic. Her gaze is alluring, as if her romantic and sexual movements arise from the way she imagines the adult world, or has learned to think about it. But her hesitant body language creates tension in every intimate moment. Everything Spaeny does with her hands and feet serves a clear emotional purpose, from nervous fidgeting to playful teasing.

At Luhrmann ElvisOlivia DeJonge does a commendable job as Priscilla, but the script only asks her to play a Hollywood biopic type, the woman whose alternating love and rejection help illustrate the watermarks of a male genius’s career. In PriscillaInstead, the duo’s relationship takes center stage, giving them equally dramatic weight even when they’re apart, and allowing Spaeny and Elordi to create living, breathing visions of these American icons in private, behind-the-scenes moments.

Both films serve different purposes. Elvis demonstrably fulfills his formal obligations with more energy and self-confidence. But with PriscillaCoppola creates an essential historical counter-narrative to the way Hollywood icons are canonized and revered. She does this not by demolishing Elvis’ iconography, but by focusing on its details, revealing the flaws in the many statues built in his name by focusing her camera on the inner life of his most vital counterpart. In the realm of mainstream fiction, Priscilla Presley rarely got her due – until now.

Priscilla will be released widely in U.S. theaters on November 3.