Que penser du Marie Antoinette de Sofia Coppola?

Plein d'erreurs ce film et je ne parle pas des très voulues converses.

• A la fin du film lorsque Marie Antoinette et Louis XVI quittent Versailles en carrosse, en l'espace de 5 secondes, sur deux plans consécutifs, le soleil a bougé de l'équivalent d'une demi-heure.

• Sur ce plan où Marie Antoinette rentre de Paris un matin au lever du jour, le carrosse passe sur un pont. On aperçoit en arrière plan pas un mais deux soleils.

Fi
https://www.erreursdefilms.com/

Anita Louise sur le tournage du film avec Norma Shearer



Kirsten Dunst sur le tournage du film de Sofia Coppola



Hommage inconscient ?

Merci à Cédric d'avoir remis cette photo au goût du jour dans son avatar en tout cas.

C'est bien vu ça, Julian !

Pour le film avec Norma Shearer et Anita Louise, c'est par ici.
https://maria-antonia.forumactif.com/t395-marie-antoinette-avec-norma-shearer-van-dyke

How Sofia Coppola Uses Her Work to Tell Her Life Story

While her style is iconic, what defines a Sofia Coppola flick is her deeply personal perspective.



Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has their own crosses to carry. Everyone wants to be found. But very few have the luxury of having a way to tell their own stories and make themselves known to the world. Sofia Coppola is one of those very lucky people called filmmakers, who have the vision and creativity to tell their stories in a visually engaging way that we, mere mortals, only get to enjoy, but never make ourselves. While she has made movies that deal with universal topics of our time, from her first success Lost in Translation to her most recent, On The Rocks, her works are also deeply personal pieces - which adds a very interesting layer to her whole career.

Being the daughter of one of the greatest filmmakers of all time must not have been easy. We all entertain the thought of just going with what our parents say, or we feel like we are supposed to live up to what they want for us, but just imagine how that was probably like for a child of Francis Ford Coppola. While his heirs have never mentioned being pressured to follow a specific career, when you are part of Hollywood royalty it's hard not to naturally gravitate towards the world of movies. It's all just too close. Sofia and her siblings had to grow up following her family wherever her father's career led them at that particular moment, as documented in the excellent documentary Hearts of Darkness: The Apocalypse of a Filmmaker, about the making of Apocalypse Now. This, along with the fact that she was the only girl in her generation of the Coppola family and her great taste for music, are the defining traits of her vision as a filmmaker.



Sofia Coppola's first artistic effort is often regarded as one of her most dark, but it already showed her promise. In The Virgin Suicides, her now-iconic aesthetic is front and center; the most important aspect to be seen. The pastel color palette leans into the girly and feminine themes, establishing a visual style that will become synonymous with her own identity as a debuting filmmaker – not "Francis Ford Coppola's daughter." As bleak as it may seem, the narrative also brings about the subject of loneliness and feminine isolation, something she had to endure herself while growing up in the shadow of strong presences. In the end, the Lisbon girls were rebellious in nature, something only Sofia could've portrayed so accurately.

This rebellion is something present in her next three films as well, all of which make for an inadvertent autobiographical trilogy, with clear avatars for Coppola herself. Lost in Translation, Marie Antoinette, and Somewhere are all about growing up as displaced people in the world we live in, but each with its own peculiar aspects. In Lost in Translation, the whole setting makes for an alienating feeling, all aggravated by her perceptions about growing up as a woman always on the move. Scarlett Johansson's Charlotte is the perfect avatar for Coppola at that moment in time, finding her understanding of her place as a person, artist, and romantic partner. At the time, she was going through a painful divorce process with fellow filmmaker Spike Jonze, who has been speculated to be represented by Giovanni Ribisi's John in the movie.



Although not nearly as acclaimed as its predecessor, Marie Antoinette is the most "Sofia-esque" of Coppola's films. All the typical traits of her as an artist are present, both in terms of narrative and aesthetics. The correlation between the French dynasty and her own family is clear. After the success of Lost in Translation, she was seen as "the next Coppola" in cinema – and that's a huge burden for any shoulder to carry. Even though Marie Antoinette - the historical figure - was often seen as an example of the emptiness of absolutism, Coppola's perspective and Kirsten Dunst's portrayal turned her into a nuanced character. As young women entering into these very traditional and masculine environments – for Coppola it was Hollywood, for Antoinette it was the French court – inevitably proves a challenge, seeing as they are often critical and doubtful of young women in positions of leadership. This, combined with the pastel palette and her typical indie soundtrack, makes for the ultimate Sofia Coppola movie.

Somewhere is likely her least praised film, despite having won prestigious prizes such as the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival. While Stephen Dorff's Johnny Marco is not an easy character to relate to, Elle Fanning's Chloe is a scene-stealer. She is the soul of the movie, and Coppola's most positive take on herself yet, again pulling from her experience following her father around while growing up and imagining herself as the feminine presence in a male environment, a transformative force in the protagonist's life. But Somewhere is a bit too repetitive in its references to Coppola's upbringing and while Chloe is Coppola's avatar, Johnny ends up as the embodiment of said stagnation. The need for reinvention was clear and led to The Bling Ring three years later to more mixed criticism – the least recognizable of her films, although stylish nonetheless.

Her true return to form came in The Beguiled, a movie that showed her maturing as an artist and is a stark counterpoint to her last two entries. With a more adult tone, Coppola uses her typical color palette to draw an uneasy and suspenseful picture. The feminine aesthetic is meant to engulf the only male protagonist, Colin Farrell's McBurney. While in earlier movies this was used as a means to reaffirm the feminine identity in a masculine world, now it shifts the perspective. The Beguiled is also Coppola's most sexual work, as, even though sexuality was something present in her earlier films, it's now an important part of the narrative.



In On The Rocks, Sofia Coppola finally seems to settle on a tone for her work. She goes back to using her own experience as the foundation for a story, now as a middle-aged woman with a big legacy that people expect her to fill. Although not particularly memorable and trying too hard to be seen as a light-hearted comedy, On The Rocks sees Coppola reconcile with the fact that her best work comes from her own perspective about life. She uses her husband Thomas Mars' constant touring with his band Phoenix as a tool for her story and brings back the looming father figure with another of her favorite collaborators, Bill Murray.

Now, it's difficult to predict what a filmmaker's next move might be, especially Sofia Coppola. She still has nothing announced for the near future, but it does seem like she is at a new stage in her career, one in which she is more comfortable with herself as an artist and where she stands in her family's legacy.


Julio Bardini
https://collider.com/sofia-coppola-directorial-style-lost-in-translation-marie-antoinette/

Sofia a fait des petits "Miss Marx": évocation rock’n’roll du parcours de la fille de Karl Marx avec music punk

Voici également un article pouvant éventuellement permettre d'y voir plus clair.

How Sofia Coppola made Marie Antoinette



“Let them eat cake, she says, just like Marie Antoinette,” croons Freddie Mercury in the opening verse of “Killer Queen,” an ode to — as he told it — a high-class call girl. “I’m trying to say that classy people can be whores as well,” he explained in a 1974 interview with NME. “Though I’d prefer people to put their interpretation upon it — to read into it what they like.” This invitation to find one’s own meaning in an artist’s work holds true for Sofia Coppola’s oeuvre; she has always been more interested in allowing audiences to develop their own understanding of her films than dictating where and when significance exists. But two of her films stand out as less warmly received on release than the rest: Marie Antoinette and The Bling Ring.

Both based on true stories of fame, obsession and excess, they form a fascinating double feature about the Western cult of celebrity and young women vilified in the name of salacious gossip. As for Marie Antoinette… Well, she never said “let them eat cake.” As her official English-language biographer, Lady Antonia Fraser, who wrote the book Coppola’s biopic was based on, explained: “It was said 100 years before her by Marie-Therese, the wife of Louis XIV. It was a callous and ignorant statement and [Marie Antoinette] was neither.”

Why might Coppola be interested in the life of a European monarch who ruled several centuries ago and met a grisly end via the guillotine at the climax of the French Revolution? Given her fascination with adolescent innocence and femininity already established in The Virgin Suicides and Lost in Translation, not to mention her predisposition towards art and fashion (passions shared by Antoinette), there was certainly a precedent. But perhaps Coppola was drawn to the dethroned Queen due to another sort of kinship. As the eldest daughter of a filmmaking dynasty, Coppola was born into a position of enormous power and privilege. She grew up on film sets, counted the likes of Andy Warhol and Marlon Brando as family dinner guests, and has faced charges of nepotism repeatedly.

Indeed, contemporary criticism of Marie Antoinette – whether positive or negative – has tended to note the potential commonalities between Coppola and the French monarch; the headline for the New York Times’s profile of the director prior to release was “French Royalty as Seen by Hollywood Royalty,” while Dana Stevens, in a scathing review for Slate, dubbed her “the Veruca Salt of American filmmakers [ . . . ] whose father, a nut tycoon, makes sure his daughter wins a golden ticket to the Willie Wonka factory by buying up countless Wonka bars, which his workers methodically unwrap till they find the prize.”

Despite any similarities between Coppola and Antoinette, the director’s love for the Rococo period developed in a thoroughly modern way. A child of the 1980s, she first encountered the aesthetics of the era as a preteen through the New Romantics; primarily Adam and the Ants (though Adam Ant himself rejected the term) and Bow Wow Wow, a band created by Malcolm McLaren to promote Vivienne Westwood’s clothing line. Ironically enough, Annabella Lwin was picked to front the group at just fourteen, the same age Antoinette was when she married the French dauphin.

The movement was a reaction to the anti-fashion stance embraced by the punk movement in the previous decade, and embraced maximalism, costuming, and a reframing of romantic imagery. Their music and styling would directly influence Coppola’s vision of Marie Antoinette’s court some twenty-five years later. Eleanor Coppola’s behind-the-scenes documentary from the set of the film features Coppola discussing how Adam Ant’s New Dandy styling was a touchstone for the costuming of Axel von Fersen, played by Jamie Dornan, and the film’s soundtrack combines a mixture of eighties post-punk stalwarts New Order, the Cure, and Siouxsie and the Banshees with contemporary music from Aphex Twin and the Strokes. A fusion of modern and classical iconography has become a signature of Coppola’s work, and nowhere has it provoked more controversy than in her mischievous confection about the glory days and eventual demise of Versailles.

Two years before Lost in Translation won Coppola the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, she set her sights on making a film about Marie Antoinette. It was Coppola’s mother who suggested she read Antonia Fraser’s biography, Marie Antoinette: The Journey (a comprehensive doorstop of a book running over 600 pages, including footnotes) as part of her research, and Coppola was suitably taken with this sympathetic approach to the oft-ridiculed monarch, who is synonymous with selfishness and frivolity. As Fraser tells it, “It had been the famous ‘handover’ episode [in which the young Marie is exchanged from her native Austria to the French party who bring her to Versailles] which convinced Sofia.”

Coppola cast Kirsten Dunst as the lead, though the actor was twenty-three at the time of filming whereas Marie was just thirteen when she became engaged to the future King of France. Casting an American as France’s favourite primadonna was a ballsy move, not least because Coppola then doubled down by filling out her roster with more Americans, Brits, and one Australian doing a British accent (Rose Byrne, playing Antoinette’s confidant the Duchesse de Polignac). Schwartzman, Coppola’s first cousin, took the role of Antoinette’s shy, lock-obsessed husband Louis XVI, with Rip Torn playing his grandfather Louis XV and Steve Coogan the Ambassador Mercy, who keeps a watchful eye over Marie on behalf of her mother — a role that Antonia Fraser’s husband Harold Pinter had offered to play, though his ill-health would have prevented it in any case. Rather fittingly, Marianne Faithfull, herself the daughter of an Austro-Hungarian aristocrat, played Marie’s mother, the Empress Maria Theresa.

Beyond casting a member of her own family as Louis XVI (who diligently gained weight to play the famously portly monarch) Coppola’s brother Roman served as second unit director. The offspring of other filmmaking talent also appear: there’s Dario Argento’s daughter Asia as the uncouth mistress of Louis XV, Madame du Barry; Danny “Son of John” Huston as Marie’s brother Joseph II of Austria; and Bill Nighy’s daughter Mary as Princesse de Lamballe, who would become one of Antoinette’s closest allies. Although this was likely by coincidence rather than design, it doesn’t much help the claims of nepotism which have dogged Coppola throughout her career. Still, at least when it comes to working with her brother and cousin, the director feels no need to answer to anyone: “Because [Roman] knows me so well, there’s a shorthand; he can go shoot things at the same time and know how I would want them. But it’s just an extension of when we were kids — Jason and Roman and I would make little movies together. And you try to approach it the same way as a professional, but you’re still doing it for the same reasons and try to approach it as something fun.”

The opening scene of Marie Antoinette, wryly set to Gang of Four’s post-punk anthem “Natural’s Not in It,” shows Dunst as the young queen languidly reclining on a chaise longue, swiping the frosting off a baby pink cake while a maid puts on her matching pumps for her. In an immediate fourth-wall break — something not present in either of Coppola’s previous films — Dunst spies the camera and cocks her head, smirking. The shot may only last fifteen seconds but it instantly establishes the tone of what’s to come. It’s an immediate challenge to the notion of the austere historical biopic, though the following scene feels more conventional, as the teenage Marie awakens in her childhood home on the morning she is to leave Austria for France. “All eyes will be on you,” her mother tells her, before the young princess is dispatched with her envoy (and her adorable pug, Mops) to the handover spot in Schuttern, Germany.

It’s this scene which enamoured Coppola when she read Fraser’s biography, and its rendering in the film is just as sympathetic. Marie cries when she’s forced to leave behind her beloved dog (a symbol of Austria), and is informed by the French Comtesse de Noailles, “You can have as many French dogs as you like.” Marie, wiping her eyes, nods dutifully, accepting her circumstances. Again, it’s a brief scene, but one that shows Antoinette’s place within Europe’s ruling class: a girl of thirteen, traded like a pawn between the Austrian and French monarchies. When she leaves Schuttern in an intricate baby blue Rococo gown, the sun begins to shine through the clouds as the muted colours of her native land fade into memory, shortly to be replaced by the frivolity of the French court.

In time the princess finds her feet, partaking in gossiping about the King’s mistress and indulging in decadent meals. Yet Marie remains painfully aware that her place is precarious, as—despite her best efforts—she fails to consummate her marriage with clueless Louis, who is more interested in pursuing his hobbies of hunting and locksmithing. “Nothing is certain about your place there until an heir is produced,” her mother reminds her in a letter. This anxiety reaches a head when Marie’s sister-in-law, the Comtesse de Provence (though in reality, it was Princess Maria Theresa of Savoy) gives birth to the “first Bourbon prince of his generation.” After congratulating the happy couple, she retreats to her private chambers and sobs, collapsing to the floor.

Antoinette would earn the unfortunate moniker Madame Deficit in France, due to her (not entirely unfounded) reputation for spending money as the rest of the country experienced profound poverty. The shopping sequence, in which Marie indulges in champagne and cakes while admiring shoes, dresses, wigs and jewels, is a feast for the eyes, playing up the popular image of the Queen as a spoiled, carefree ruler with no concept of life beyond the palace walls — an image pedalled by the slanderous libelles which were circulated at the time. It also includes a fleeting shot of baby blue Converse sneakers next to a pair of ornate period-accurate shoes, which was Roman Coppola’s idea. He shot the sequence and included the anachronism to amuse his sister, who decided to keep it in, emphasising Antoinette’s youthful capriciousness as well as the idea of the film as a fantasy rather than a historical document. It’s the MTV’s The Real World version of Marie Antoinette, based in reality but embellished for entertainment’s sake, and quite possessed of its own design — just look to Roman Coppola’s spoof episode of the channel’s flagship real estate show Cribs, shot at Versailles with Schwartzman in character as Louis XVI and included in the DVD extras.

But even as she attempts to break free from the constraints of royal life (be it through her country retreat or her affair with the dashing Count Axel von Fersen) the writing is on the wall; Louis must contend with the demands on the royal purse strings while Marie becomes the subject of increased public scrutiny and accusations. Addressing that most famous and wrongly attributed quote, Coppola depicts Antoinette dripping in jewels, wearing dark lipstick as she reclines in a bathtub before flippantly uttering the words “Let them eat cake.” Antoinette herself, hearing the rumour while having a manicure, scoffs: “That’s such nonsense, I would never say that.”
https://i-d.vice.com/en_uk/article/qjbgdp/sofia-coppola-marie-antoinette

Bien à vous

madame antoine

Open you eyes



MARIE ANTOINETTE & Hollywood Nepotism

Que penser du film de Sofia ? qu'il a inspiré plein de gens


https://www.sarahvanrose.com/illustration/marie-antoinette-dvd-box-set

Que penser du Marie Antoinette de Sofia Coppola? Que y a pas que moi qui aime bien

• La qualité de l’approche de Sofia Coppola dans ce biopic sur une des reines les plus détestées de l’histoire de France tient en premier lieu dans sa dépolitisation, une vision qui est propice à la mise en avant de l’humanité des personnages. Ici, pas de reproches ou de stéréotypes, Marie-Antoinette est présentée comme une adolescente, mariée à 14 ans et reine d’une des plus grandes puissances au monde à 18. Dès ses premiers pas à Versailles, elle ne se reconnaît pas dans tout le cérémonial imposé à la cour (on pense notamment à la fameuse scène du lever qui démontre avec humour le ridicule de l’étiquette), ce qui la rend encore plus attachante aux yeux du/de la spectateur·ice, perdu·e comme elle face à toutes ces règles et coutumes. Dès la première partie, Sofia Coppola montre le vrai problème de Marie-Antoinette : une enfant que l’on oblige à se comporter en femme.
  
  Marie-Antoinette se transforme en l’essence-même des personnages de la réalisatrice, se montrant constamment détachée de tout, préférant vivre dans l’exubérance du moment présent pour cacher la profonde solitude qui l’habite. De par sa fonction royale, elle représente un idéal dont, de la même manière que les sœurs Lisbon de Virgin Suicides, personne ne cherche à la détacher pour l’humaniser. On voit en elle une amante, une amie frivole et décadente, une reine peu exemplaire et trop dépensière mais jamais on ne saisit sa complexité réelle tant elle-même s’efforce de la cacher pour plaire à qui veut d’elle dans cette bulle dorée qu’elle créé pour pallier au vide béant. Cette nuance se lit dans la performance de Kirsten Dunst qui, à l’image du personnage qu’elle joue, passe de l’innocence et des gestes maladroits et impulsifs d’une enfant à la langueur et la légèreté insouciante d’une femme qui ne sait pas que son monde va bientôt s’effondrer.
  
  La bulle est représentée dans la photographie du film qui rend les excès de Marie-Antoinette dans les jardins de Versailles presque irréels, comme dans un rêve car c’est là que son esprit est enfermé : dans un rêve éveillé dont elle ne se réveille que trop tard, aux prémices de la Révolution. La manière dont la réalisatrice met en scène la cour de France (une des institutions les plus guindées) modernise le tout, notamment grâce à une bande-son indé-rock, signature de Sofia Coppola. Mais cet effet de cage dorée se trouve également dans les décors, notamment le château de Versailles, ses couloirs luxueux et fantasmagoriques que la vraie Marie-Antoinette a foulé il y a quelques siècles de cela. Les costumes achèvent de reconstituer l’ambiance de l’époque en rivalisant de fanfreluches, colifichets et frivolités en tout genre.
  
  Biopic grandiose et frivole à l’image de son personnage principal, Marie-Antoinette excelle dans la présentation complexe et humaine de la dernière reine de France et parvient avec brio à s’éloigner des à priori pour délivrer une œuvre à l’interprétation absolument magistrale (le duo Kirsten Dunst-Sofia Coppola fait décidément des miracles), à la direction artistique colorée et stylisée et à la mise en abime inéluctable, trait que semblent partager tous les films de la réalisatrice.
  https://onsefaituncine.com/2023/05/04/sofia-coppola-ennui-et-damnation/
  
  
  

Moi chaque fois que je le regarde c'est trop bien

Que penser du Marie Antoinette de Sofia Coppola?

Demandons à Sofia !

“Je suis toujours contente de pouvoir faire les films que je veux. J’étais heureuse qu’on ait pu faire celui-ci, mais personne ne l’a vu”

“C’était un flop. Alors le fait qu’il continue de vivre et que les gens en parlent est très satisfaisant, parce qu’on a beaucoup travaillé. Je suis heureuse qu’il ait trouvé sa place, et qu’il soit apprécié”

Elle ne voulait pas “faire un film d’époque barbant, avec des plans distants et froids”.

“Je voulais faire un portrait impressionniste, que le public ait l’impression d’être à Versailles durant cette période”

Voilà qui peut expliquer le manque de consistance historique de son film et de son personnage.

Virgin Suicides : et si le premier film de Sofia Coppola restait son meilleur ?

https://www.ecranlarge.com/films/dossier/1505081-virgin-suicides-et-si-le-premier-film-de-sofia-coppola-restait-son-meilleur