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Friday, October 20, 2006

Marie Antoinette 

Watching Marie Antoinette, I couldn’t help but think of Paris Hilton. Imagine, if you will, a pretty blonde princess whose life up till now has had little to no consequence, whose closest companion is a tiny dog she keeps with her at all times, who suddenly finds herself thrust into the limelight for unearned adoration and brutal scrutiny. The pretty blonde princess herself is hard to dislike, but close inspection only reveals someone who, until now, is basically blameless. Mildly interesting, mostly forgettable. Certainly no one you’d put in a position of consequence.

So goes Sofia Coppola’s latest. Many of the reviews and commentary (most coming out of the now-infamous screening at Cannes) on the film have questioned its historical integrity and lightness of subject matter; I can only guess those folks were looking for more head-chopping and less shoe-shopping. That anyone sat through the two hour screen time and expected historical accuracy and grim violence is a little surprising to me; I’m not sure they were watching the same movie I was.

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