3.5 stars out of 5
I read Peter Guralnick’s superb two-volume Elvis Presley biography, but it is not at all fresh in my mind. And thus far, I haven’t watched the 2022 Elvis movie. So I was pleased to revisit the Priscilla years, and Sofia Coppola is much more my speed than Baz Luhrmann.
This film is based on Priscilla’s memoir Elvis & Me, so we’re definitely getting her side of the story. We begin when 24-year-old Elvis, suffering from the G.I. blues in Germany, takes an interest in army brat/high-school freshman Priscilla. Her parents worry about his intentions and even Elvis’s crowd privately joke about how young she is. (It helps the movie that we believe 24-year-old actress Cailee Spaeny is in her early teens.) But Elvis gets what Elvis wants.
Coppola captures the starstruck and lovestruck girl and her isolation — in the classroom, it’s like she’s the only one there. When they arrive in Memphis, the isolation continues, but not of her own making. Elvis (portrayed by Jacob Elordi) is shown as a very controlling figure. Priscilla becomes almost a prisoner at home; a doll in the dollhouse that is Graceland, while “E” heads off to make bad movies and have affairs. Coppola makes the compelling choice not to show us Elvis having his fun, but rather staying with bored, lonely Priscilla, reading sordid stories of Presley in celebrity mags. When he is home, Elvis dictates what she wears and her overall appearance; hmm how about some black hair dye and dark eyeliner so she looks more like… him! Marriage and motherhood improve things but only too briefly.
Coppola revels in period details and has a lot of fun conveying passage of time. Always music-minded, she doesn’t bind herself to the songs of the era, but rather what best captures the mood. And ultimately as writer and director, Coppola gives us this very public coming-of-age story in which Priscilla initially craves affection but ultimately wants to be her own person.
The film is formatted as a series of telling anecdotes (in which Coppola wisely shows instead of telling). Toward the end, though, it felt like an additional anecdote or two might’ve helped us reach the conclusion, which as-is I found a little unsatisfying. I don’t know, maybe I’ll watch the Luhrmann one now and see if I prefer getting hit over the head.
Jack Silbert, curator