Priscilla (2023) - On The Ethics of Biopics

Priscilla dir. Sofia Coppola (2023)

7.5/10

    "When teenage Priscilla Beaulieu meets Elvis Presley, the man who is already a meteoric rock-and-roll superstar becomes someone entirely unexpected in private moments: a thrilling crush, an ally in loneliness, a vulnerable best friend." (IMDB)

    Adapted from the memoir titled Elvis and Me, the film follows Priscilla Presley née Beaulieu from the time she first meets Elvis in 1959 through their relationship until its end and their breakup in 1972. Cailee Spaeny portrays the titular character alongside Jacob Elordi as Elvis. The film follows a chronology of significant events through the span of their relationship taking place mostly behind closed doors, with plenty of music accompanying, though none sung by the "King of Rock 'n' Roll" himself. Coppola and Spaeny had consulted with Priscilla Presley, and while Priscilla Presley is credited as not only a writer but also an executive producer, Elvis Presley Enterprises Inc. denied the use of Elvis' music. 

    The film loyally recreates iconic outfits, photos, and home videos of Priscilla and Elvis, and the entire saga from the early 60's to early 70's takes on the aesthetics of the time and setting. Spaeny and Elordi humanize two icons of pop culture that have always been portrayed larger than life, and in choosing to only depict Elvis' stardom as it affects their relationship, Coppola smartly shifts focus unto Priscilla's internal experience. The acting is also top notch as Spaeny taps into the emotions of a teen girl having to grow up fast and adjust to life alongside a superstar, while still wanting to be loved and wanted by him more than anything. The age difference between Priscilla and Elvis is further emphasized by the size difference between Spaeny and Elordi, as well as Spaeny's round features giving her a babyfaced look, despite the actors only being a year apart in age. As the friendship sparks into romance and then a relationship kept under wraps until their eventual marriage, we see the highs and lows of Priscilla's life in the eponymous film.

    I knew I was going to catch this in theaters when I first saw the teaser, already sold on the premise and the title alone. Then I saw that Sofia Coppola was directing and my resolve solidified. 

    The biopic comes just a year after Baz Lurhmann's Elvis (2022) and while they overlap in characters and some events, the two films couldn't be more different in tone and perspective. Where Elvis was bright, loud and heroic, Priscilla feels quiet, introspective, and at times uncomfortable. But it's not an unwelcome discomfort. 

    Having spent the end of 2022 scoffing at the raving reviews of Elvis, and the subsequent reestablishment of an already mythic all-American icon, I often felt like the only one voicing the contentious circumstances of his relationship with his ex-wife, Priscilla. 

    During several moments of the film, I felt uneasy or tense, especially once we get to scenes with Priscilla alone with Elvis in Graceland. The chair being thrown is just one of the times we see Elvis lose his temper in a physical way, sometimes grabbing her wrist or shouting at Priscilla in an argument or conflict. 

    Coppola doesn't comment on the age gap. I will. 

    In what could either be a sympathetic view or a critical one depending on your read on it, Elordi's portrayal paints Elvis at 24 as awkward and boyish in his first real conversation with Priscilla. Whether it's due to his own homesickness, or the vulnerability he may feel confiding in her, he comes across as much younger while Priscilla, keen to listen and perhaps starstruck, comes across mature, or maybe just more emotionally intelligent. 

    As time goes on we see her getting swept up in the whirlwind of his life and changing herself more and more (for him). The age difference itself doesn't feel as problematic as the power difference once Priscilla leaves home to live in Graceland. She is made-up in accordance with aesthetics complementary to Elvis' own, and fails in several attempts to connect with others besides Elvis, adding to the mounting discomfort of watching a girl be turned into a pretty decoration. Even her request to get a job to occupy herself is denied, making her dependent on the Presley's and further isolating her.

    Isolation and introspective female leads are perhaps Coppola's bread and butter. And some of the visuals in Priscilla do recall visuals from Coppola's debut feature-length film, The Virgin Suicides (1999). A few shots of the teenage Priscilla looking out through a car window feel particularly familiar for the director.

    Interestingly, Kirsten Dunst (above) personally recommended Spaeny for the role to Coppola, and it all feels very full circle. 

    While the hazy and dreamlike aesthetics are over 20 years evolved and in this film only used sparingly for the telling of a true story, they are still present. In particular, Coppola reveals that that smoke was used to "diffuse the light and give a soft look." (2:20-2:28)

    

    From a storytelling perspective, the use of the dim and hazy lighting may be symbolic of the mysterious air of Elvis' office, but I believe it also represents the darkness of this particular memory and the struggle to recall it and the feelings associated. 

    This film is full of well executed techniques but it's not without faults. It can be assumed that the script is loyal to events as they really occurred due to Priscilla Presley's involvement and approval, something which not all biopics prioritize in favor of Hollywood typical dramatic narratives. Coppola's approach is more sensitive, as noted by Presley herself. And yet there is still controversy.

    The late Lisa Marie Presley didn't approve of the initial script she was sent, saying that it villainized her late father. Lisa Marie Presley, only daughter of Elvis, passed away in January this year, survived by her daughter, Riley Keough, and mother, Priscilla. The ethics become blurry once again. (x)

    

    Despite the story centered around Priscilla and her perspective and experiences, a member of the family that eventually comes to be in the film, takes issue with it, and it feels like all the praises I just sung for Coppola's ethics as a filmmaker leave a bad aftertaste in my mouth.

    TL;DR: It's not cut and dry.

    I feel that Coppola's expert framing allows a faithful retelling of events to simultaneously show a sinister subtext. In the wider context of recent biopics [Blonde (2022), Elvis (2022), Oppenheimer (2023) to name a few] Priscilla (2023) feels like what the most 'ethical' version of the genre looks like: adding layers to a story that needed it, and telling this story to a mainstream that suffered from the lack of it's perspective. 

    The best things this film does are things Coppola's films excel at time and time again: 

                        portraying isolation, allowing actors to emote rather than depend on clunky dialogue, giving depth to female leads, aesthetics that serve the story, having sensitivity and compassion for complex human experiences

    The only reason I wouldn't rate it higher, is that the quiet introspection drags on at times and though it comes full circle from start to end, and honors the story it's telling, there isn't enough momentum through the middle of the film. I did know to expect this going in, and even still I felt as though this film would be more suited to watching alone rather than in a full theater.

   All of that to say, that's just my opinion, so take it with a grain of salt!