Somewhere

Sofia Coppola has emerged as one of the greatest directors living today. Her Lost in Translation was one of the best films of the last decade, and now Somewhere marks another substantial success. Whenever I think of how Sofia Coppola's talent began to grow, I think of a young, forgotten girl sitting on the edge of her seat on the set of one of her father's films. She films in a cavernous fashion--she is the timid observer to life. This is where Somewhere must have come from: a film about the ennui of a movie star. The star is Johnny Marco (a brilliantly nuanced Stephen Dorff). He falls asleep during foreplay, he sits in his hotel room. His life is so monotonous and devoid of life that he might just slip and, say, break an arm one day. He is so dead inside, despite the outside, that the music that blasts in the film feels as if it's playing in another room. Dorff is practically spectral as Johnny. It's a great performance. Just as Johnny's life just might start to bore us, Elle Fanning enters as his daughter Cleo. This is another great performance (the two paired create a world for Coppola to delve into). She brims with life. He does not. As they travel around, play ping pong, Johnny begins to look like he might change. Will he? Would that even be realistic? Somewhere is a gorgeously filmed, wonderfully acted movie. It is nicely nuanced as well. One image, that Coppola makes a close up slowly and carefully, sums up the picture and its cavernous, distant quality. This is where Johnny is sitting in the makeup room, and his face has been plastered for a mold. We only hear him breathing for about an entire minute (eternity in a movie). What better a way to convey the distant quality of the character? It's appropriate considering the occupation, and although he is forced to sit and breathe through a mold, he seems no happier, no sadder. It has no effect.
Somewhere: ★★★★