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Usually, you can’t find a more well-behaved audience than a theater full of film critics. They sit quietly and pay attention, silently sipping their coffee, listening to each word. Even when they’re watching, say…Employee of the Month, they pay attention, no matter how much it pains them. But I have to say that I’ve never seen so many fidgeting critics (myself included) as I did during Marie Antoinette. And if a room full of film critics, whose job it is to pay attention to movies, can’t sit still through your movie, you (yes, you, Sofia Coppola) have got yourself a problem.
Marie Antoinette tells the popular story of the young Archdutchess of Austria, future Queen of France (played by Kirsten Dunst), beginning with her journey to France to meet her fiancé, Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman). As soon as she arrives at Versailles, the future queen is forced to adjust to life in the French court—the new styles, the new expectations, and to being dressed by a crowd of women each morning.
After her marriage to the future king, she finds herself under serious pressure to bear France an heir, but her awkward, boyish husband seems reluctant to consummate their marriage, putting their relationship—and France’s alliance with Austria—in jeopardy. As the pressure continues to build, the future queen does everything she can to attract her husband. Once the king dies, leaving the country under Louis XVI’s rule, the young queen’s extravagance becomes widely known, as she spends her days buying new dresses and eating sweets and her nights gambling and throwing elaborate parties.
Writer/director Sofia Coppola is well known for her minimalist approach to filmmaking—and that worked for her in Lost in Translation—but this time, she goes too far. Or, I suppose, not far enough. The film is shot in quick snapshots—in glimpses. And just when the audience is starting to understand—and maybe even care—Coppola skips along to something else. Though audiences will get the idea—a faint notion—that there’s all kinds of stuff going on, very little really happens. We just see a new dress here, some new shoes there, some tasty treats and gambling chips and glasses of champagne and fabulous gardens. The story is so minimal (and shallow) that there’s little to pay attention to—unless you’ve got a thing for Manolo Blahniks.
Dialogue is also kept to a minimum—which feels like a bad thing until Dunst actually has lines, which come off sounding forced, making you realize that it’s best if she doesn’t say anything. And Coppola’s cousin, Schwartzman, is every bit as forced, though considerably more uncomfortable to watch.
It’s unfortunate that Marie Antoinette falls so flat plot-wise. Because it’s absolutely magnificent to look at—from the scenes shot on location at Versailles to the spectacular costumes. But even that can’t make the film interesting. It gives you just a taste of what a fascinating person Marie Antoinette was—but it leaves you wishing it had actually told you something about her.
