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Somewhere (12A.) 
 

Directed by Sofia Coppola.


Starring Stephen Dorff, Elle Fanning, Chris Pontius, Michelle Monaghan. 98 mins.


After a career reversal it is not unreasonable to go back to what made you successful. Looking to bounce back from Marie Antoinette, Sofia Coppola has come up with another film about a movie star living alone in a hotel striking up a relationship with a much younger girl.


Somewhere though is not Lost in Translation 2. It divulges from it in two major ways: the girl is his 11 year old daughter; and this time it’s serious. The light, bittersweet, sense of estrangement experienced by Bill Murray and Scarlett Johanssen in Tokyo has sagged into the listless static alienation of a Gus Van Sant art movie.


Dorff is the movie star hanging out at the LA landmark Château Marmont hotel (location of John Belushi’s fatal overdose.) He drinks, drives around very slowly in his black Ferrari, parties with hangers on but mostly enjoys the attention of the numerous women that throw themselves at him. He gets anonymous texts saying what an a-hole he is but, given the extent that fame has distorted his relationship with people, he doesn’t seem so bad. When his ex-partner goes off to find herself and leaves their daughter with him, he is attentive and caring.


For the best part of two decades Hollywood film makers have been trying to persuade audiences that Dorff should be a star. He’s like a chef’s speciality that keeps getting sent back by customer. So there’s a certain cruel irony in casting him as a film star - he looks like a star, moves like a star, but lost his way somewhere on route to becoming a star.


Here he’s invited to just coast along but he’s a performer who needs to be kept busy. You can’t just film him hanging out like you can Bill Murray. Even playing the role of a movie star doesn’t quite hang right on him; he comes across much more like a rock star.


On a scene by scene basis Somewhere is lovely. Coppola is very adept at visualising his alienation. The scenes where blonde twins perform a pole dance while he tries to stay awake are perfect example of her ability to capture emptiness with a light comic touch.


The problem is that everything the film has to offer can be gleaned from any randomly chosen five minutes. Those randomly chosen five minutes will be pretty good but anything much beyond that begins to test the patience pretty damn quick. I was rooting for it till well past the hour mark but then came a scene of Dorff and Fanning sunbathing by the pool, the camera slowly pulling away from them. The shot is held for so long it felt like the final scene and though my body clock knew it couldn’t be, mentally it was the point I took my leave of the film.

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