When looking at the career of Sofia Coppola, it’s easy to see most of her work as having some form of autobiography. As the daughter of renowned filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola, she has existed in the shadow of greatness, which has as many perks as it does setbacks. Because of her father, she was able to explore the world of film and test her skills in various forms. The setback ultimately was that she would always be his daughter, constantly pushed to make her version of The Godfather (1972). The major problem is that the stories she wants to tell are self-reflective, looking inward, and trying to explore happiness on a more complicated level. It’s caused her to be one of the more divisive filmmakers, but those who can appreciate her commentary are likely to come away with a satisfying body of work.
Her latest movie On the Rocks (2020) may be the closest she’s come in years to making something conventional. It’s a father-daughter drama that finds Rashida Jones in the midst of a midlife crisis. She has this fear that her life has grown boring and that she’s no longer as cool as she used to be. She becomes so paranoid when her husband Marlon Wayans becomes eager to work and has lady friends over. Is he being promiscuous, or is he telling the truth when talking about being a work-driven man?
What makes the film feel especially fresh for Coppola is that this is more in line with indie comedies, featuring an ensemble of actors having improvisational conversations that may be about nothing but are about everything. Maybe the scene is focusing on Jones’ inability to care about other people’s personal problems, finding that she’s taking on a burden that nobody will pay attention to. She feels isolated in this continual loop, unable to break free. If she’s not worried about her marriage, it’s her children. Can life really be that simple?
It’s easy to read everything as some commentary on Coppola’s personal life, especially as she ages out of the hip, young demographic. She looks back fondly on the time but realizes that she doesn’t have that passion anymore. She’s not the same person who was wild and cool in the 90s. In fact, that was 25 years ago. So much has changed, and it can cause a displacement that is not unlike Marie Antoinette (2006). It’s not an active form of grief, but one that feels like mental imprisonment, constantly trying to find ways to push out. At the end of the day, all she can do is stare longingly, trying to figure out the next phase of her life.
This is among her funnier movies, constantly finding these abrupt conversations revealing a mix of malaise with personal revelations that come with the misery of adult duties. Despite being the most delightful film she’s released, it’s also tough to appreciate unless looked at through a personal lens. What is this saying about Coppola, reaching a crossroads in her career where she’s about to become an elder stateswoman? It’s the fear of being old. In media, old is irrelevant – especially for women. Nobody wants to cater to their needs.
This makes for a compelling parallel in Jones’ father, played by Bill Murray. Coppola has a knack for bringing out the best in Murray, and this is another example of it. While this may come across as his most Murray performance in years, it’s still one that finds an aging ladies man believing that he still is cool. He’s able to make younger women fawn over him while talking his way out of speeding tickets. He has a charisma that especially works for audiences who know the Murray myths that have spiraled throughout the 21st century. He’s not so much an actor anymore as the journeyman who will work your bar and crash your wedding and does so with a warm and welcoming heart.
It’s the type of role that is needed for On the Rocks to ask the question if people can be cool after 40. For Murray, he’s earned a state of eternal coolness that elevates the script into something more compelling. Add in the personal aspect and you’re beginning to wonder how much of this is a reflection of Sofia talking to Francis about her life problems? Considering his own status as a journeyman filmmaker, The Coppola Family feels like it’s explored heavily in this, finding casual conversations about unfulfilling personal lives standing for years of therapy that they’ve shared with each other.
But how close of a perspective are we getting on Sofia or Francis? While it may be personal, there’s a good chance that a lot is fictionalized to preserve some safety. Whatever the case may be, the choice to shift this into a comedy allows it to feel more endearing, finding revelations coming through mishaps and barroom conversations that may sound aimless, but have small pockets of revelations that will cause Jones to nod as Murray prepares to prove he’s still cool. Is he really though, or is he fooling himself in a world that’s moved on? Does any of it matter if Murray thinks that he’s the coolest guy in the room?
On the Rocks may be the most personal movie that Coppola has made since Somewhere (2010). By some irony, both of these films have been accused of being monotonous and lacking any greater point. Even then, those willing to look closer will find something compelling about the subtle divide between fathers and daughters in these stories, finding Coppola trying to come to terms with her own life while expressing it through art. Somewhere may be even more abstract, if just by the different age dynamics. Turn Sofia into a little girl, and you get closer to the personal narrative of Somewhere.
One can argue that both films are a state of mind. On the Rocks is a New York movie that feels like it’s constantly in motion. Somewhere is a California movie that feels aimless, wandering through a desert, and spending nights wasting away that the Chateau Marmont. In fact, many have complained about Somewhere being pointless due to an infamous opening scene where protagonist Stephen Dorf finds a car racing around in circles through the desert. What does this all mean? Is it going anywhere significant? It’s anticlimactic, and the perfect symbolism for this story that leans more towards her slow-paced drama state.
Dorf is a celebrity who is faced with the mundanity of fame. He kills time by watching people pole dance to The Foo Fighters, constantly finding these numbing sensations that should have something greater, but leaves him empty. He wants that fulfillment, and the void that everything exists in is intentional. He doesn’t have any way to escape this cycle, having to do press junkets for something that he’s losing interest in. His friends come over to pull off pranks, and even that rings hollow. What is Dorf’s life if nothing he does holds any value?
Enter his daughter, played by Elle Fanning, who has optimistic eyes. She is first seen ice skating to Gwen Stefani. Again, it’s a moment that lingers, finding something spry in this exercise. As they become closer, there’s still some emotional distance. Dorf needs his friends to come over and entertain her when he lacks the capacity to do so. It’s a slow revelation that what Dorf needs to do is to open himself up to her, allowing himself to be human and not some closed-off celebrity.
Again, it’s more compelling to ask how it symbolizes something within The Coppola Family. A lot of aspects are more abstract, especially since it was a contemporary story upon release and Sofia is significantly older than Fanning. Still, there’s something interesting about seeing Sofia as a little girl, trying to break through Francis’ stubborn shield, giving him a sense of happiness. Given that Francis had bouts with being egocentric, most notably when making Apocalypse Now (1979), it’s easy to argue that trauma and disappointment linger inside of Dorf’s performance pulled personally from Coppola’s life. This isn’t the story of a father as a hero, but someone who needs to realize how good the world around him is.
Which makes it interesting to compare Somewhere to On the Rocks. Beyond the age differences, the personal read of the characters feels a bit stark. Murray feels like he’ll be fine if let loose on the world. Dorf meanwhile feels like he’ll watch cars run around in the desert, not questioning his lack of activity. It’s a form of depression that can’t be fully removed without some serious effort, and it’s interesting to shift that perspective to Jones in On the Rocks. She’s nowhere near as frail as Dorf, and yet their concern about being emotionally invested in their loved ones is saying a lot. It’s not that they can’t, it’s just that there’s some fear inside.
Both can be argued to be tales of midlife crises. They can’t stand the places that they are in, even if the world around them couldn’t understand why. After all, Coppola caters to wealthy characters, which only makes the idea of misery sometimes difficult for audiences to pick up on. How could somebody born into wealth understand feeling empty? It’s what makes On the Rocks, in particular, feel a bit offbeat. This isn’t to say that Coppola is exploiting herself foolishly. She is pulling from something genuine that transcends her environment. She makes it feel familiar in large part because everyone has felt insecure at some point. What she proposes is that the upper class does as well.
This isn’t to say that Somewhere lacks comedic moments, though it feels more like a tonal piece, drawing more from Michelangelo Antonioni, and these sprawled out stories that suggest vision quests produce results. It’s a world that may be crowded at times, but will eventually reveal how alone Dorf feels inside. It’s bittersweet to watch Fanning try and reach through, doing her best to open herself up. Meanwhile, On the Rocks works the other way, finding a father guiding his daughter into the next phase of life, openly talking about his failures as a person, and that they shouldn’t keep him from trying to continue living.
While every Coppola movie is worthy of some discourse, these two in particular feel like interesting moments in her life. These two, along with Lost in Translation (2003), manage to feel like her most realized visions, finding some study of jet-set lifestyles finally coming to rest and having to realize that maybe they’re lonely, that they’ve ignored the important things in their lives. What’s interesting is how different these three are, finding Coppola exploring different eras of her life and the relationships in her life. Are they saying anything meaningful about her own life? Unless you know her personally, it’s really hard to say.
That is what great art can do. On the Rocks is one of the few Coppola movies that feels minor, like it’s not going to be talked about with as much acclaim as her other work. This doesn’t mean it’s bad, but that it was some exercise to unlock more important ideas for her next film. It’s a small character drama that has low stakes and reaches a satisfying bar with them. That’s not unlike Somewhere, which has slowly been contextualized into one of her more underrated hits. It’s slower and even more unassuming, but it has even more heart when you’re patient enough.
More than that, what makes these films feel satisfying is that even if audiences don’t personally love them, there is something there that is recognizable. Something spoke to Coppola to make them, to capture a mood that lies inside herself. These may not always be the most enjoyable movies, but they’re fun to ponder over and wonder what they mean to the artist. Unlike most filmmakers, there feels like there’s something deep underneath the surface to uncover, finding an artist in full view of her audience. Now that she’s shown her true colors, it’s our job to interpret what they mean.
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