Sofia Coppola’s Somewhere goes nowhere in style
Award-winning film has as much direction as its idle idol
Pablo Picasso once said, “To copy others is necessary. To copy oneself is pathetic.” “Pathetic” would be too harsh a description of the showbiz drama Somewhere, but director Sofia Coppola unquestionably imitates her most successful film, Lost in Translation.
Coppola’s bittersweet comedy from 2003 reinvented Bill Murray, who conveyed with delicate subtlety the angst of a fading movie actor at a luxury Tokyo hotel. Lost in Translation’s loose narrative barely qualified as a plot, but Somewhere makes Coppola’s earlier effort look as dense and twisty as Inception.
Lost in Translation alluded to Bob Harris’ (Murray) heyday as the star of car-chase classics. Somewhere introduces us to A-list actor Johnny Marco (Atlanta-born Stephen Dorff) through his car: A lengthy long shot follows Johnny’s black Porsche in as it speeds in circles along a middle-of-nowhere track. (These are the symbols, folks.)
A bad-boy Hollywood star in his late 30s, Johnny lives in a boozy, oversexed stupor at the Chateau Marmont, with occasional interruptions to pose for photographers or deliver monosyllabic answers at press conferences. He’s so bored that even private shows from look-alike blondes, dressed like candy stripers and gyrating around stripper-poles, can barely keep him awake. Coppola’s matter-of-fact camerawork makes the exotic dancing look like business as usual. For every conquest, he seems to receive an angry text like, “Why are you such an asshole?”
Where Bob renewed his enthusiasm for life through a gentle romance with Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), Johnny only connects to real world responsibility through visits from his daughter Cleo (Elle Fanning). Cleo places little faith in her father’s attention. When he takes notice of her lovely figure skating routine, he asks, “When’d you learn to ice skate?” She replies, “I’ve been going for three years,” not surprised he hasn’t noticed.
As a member of one of Hollywood’s royal families, Coppola has an eye for the quirks of fame. At one point, makeup artists engulf Johnny in a head mold in an apt little image for how celebrity can render a person unrecognizable. Somewhere finds the equivalent to Translation’s Japan in a jaunt to Italy, where the opulence and fame-obsession looks even more alien. Johnny receives an award at an incomprehensible Italian ceremony that features giant statues of ridiculous golden cats. (Prophetically, Somewhere went on to win the Golden Lion at the 2011 Venice International Film Festival.)
Despite their roles’ lavish lifestyles, Dorff and Fanning give warm, sympathetic performances. Dorff portrays Johnny as a well-meaning guy so used to being pampered that he’s lost sight of how to take care of himself. Fanning radiates both a youthful confidence and a hunger for more parental attention. She’s also amusingly canny about movie star etiquette. When breakfasting in an Italian suite, she can’t avoid chatting with her dad’s latest one-night stand, but remains perfectly polite while shooting him a look that says, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Somewhere presents plenty of visual grace notes, such as an image of father and daughter’s newfound togetherness as they lie side by side near a pool while the camera slowly pans backward. Coppola’s boyfriend Thomas Mars provides a dreamy rock soundtrack via his band Phoenix, but Somewhere’s pretty moments don’t make up for its narrative stasis. The film draws to a close just when Johnny’s self-awareness threatens to finally make him interesting, making Somewhere innately unsatisfying.
It would work just fine as a final episode of “Entourage,” though.