[TW/CW: This article makes mention of domestic abuse, drug use.]
Despite being an expert on portraying isolation within the female experience, Sofia Coppola was faced with a challenge when conceiving her latest film “Priscilla.” The movie, based on Priscilla Presley’s memoir “Elvis and Me,” depicts the less glamorous, more sobering aspects of the marriage between Elvis and Priscilla Presley—much to the dismay of many die-hard Elvis fans. Coppola’s movie is the antithesis of Baz Luhrmann’s bombastic and flamboyant 2022 film “Elvis,” a portrayal of the relationship between the larger-than-life superstar (played by Austin Butler) and his abusive manager, known as The Colonel (Tom Hanks). “Priscilla,” starring Cailee Spaeny as Priscilla and Jacob Elordi as Elvis, redirects attention from “The King” himself to his wife: a girl whisked away at age 14 into the complex world of stardom and celebrity.
Although the film begins with a dream-like, classically Coppola sequence of Priscilla delicately applying dense false eyelashes and winged eyeliner, “Priscilla” feels—in contrast to much of Coppola’s past work—concretely grounded in reality. Rather than portraying the languid, fictional story of the Lisbon sisters in “The Virgin Suicides,” or the infamous, distant tale of a young queen in “Marie Antoinette,” “Priscilla” gives an authoritative voice to tangible, yet previously unexplored, rock royalty. The film shines a spotlight on a story now taking its first breaths—a story that begged to be told.
“Priscilla” begins with a young Priscilla Beaulieu living with her family in Germany, where her father, a U.S. Air Force officer, was stationed. A fellow service member asks Priscilla if she would like to accompany him and his wife to a party to meet Elvis, who is distraught after the death of his beloved mother and homesick for another world. When Priscilla informs Elvis that she is a freshman in high school, he responds with a low whistle, mumbling, “You’re just a baby.” What follows is a young girl’s wildest fantasy: The camera follows Priscilla as she waltzes down the hallway of her school in an otherworldly state or daydreams in bed, awaiting their next date. Their interactions are brief, and their conversations appear to contain little substance. But, Coppola masterfully and carefully constructs the beginning of one of America’s most beloved, yet notorious, romantic couples.
The short, simple dialogue that lingers between the lovers, coupled with Spaeny’s intentionally reserved, nervous portrayal of a teenage girl, emphasizes the 10-year age gap between the two stars. The emphasis on Priscilla’s youth prompts inevitable gasps from the audience when Priscilla gains her parents’ permission to move to Graceland, Presley’s Memphis, Tennessee mansion. Set to a classic modern-mixed-with-period-accurate Coppola soundtrack, montages of Priscilla and Elvis embarking on typical dates—including roller skating and driving bumper cars—evoke a giddy sense of young love. But, for every moment of youthful exuberance, Coppola pierces the veil of picture-perfect romance with malicious toxicity.
Elvis feeds Priscilla amphetamines as if they were candy, confines her to his bedroom for days at a time, throws chairs in her direction and turns pillow fights into weaponized symbols of masculinity. Each pill popped and each piece of furniture thrown is like a splash of ice-cold water to the audience’s face: As soon as viewers get caught up in snippets of matrimonial bliss, the abuse Coppola illustrates serves as a reminder of how imperfect and tarnished the relationship between Priscilla and Elvis actually was. Coppola strikes a balance between the love story Americans have been spoon-fed for generations and the much darker truth. The movie examines the subtleties and intricacies of a woman who was—on many occasions—treated as something less than human: an image to be constructed rather than a person to be understood, a living doll rather than a partner.
Even though the movie is riddled with cinematic montages—often with little dialogue—of extravagant pool parties, gambling adventures and the occasional psychedelic high, “Priscilla” speaks volumes to the difficult experience of being married to an icon loved by so many. Despite the tabloids frequently reporting Elvis’ infidelity with various movie stars, Priscilla faces each moment of her tumultuous marriage with courage until the end. She takes the role she was cast into when she married Elvis with purpose and immense bravery. Coppola makes it clear that Priscilla not only knew and accepted what it meant to stay in her marriage, but she also knew when it was right to leave that marriage. Although the audience may feel uncertain about their perception of this infamous marriage at the film’s close—with Priscilla stoically driving away with Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” echoing in the background—viewers can feel certain that, ultimately, Priscilla was the heroine of her own story.