What Director to Rank Next?

by Cláudio Alves

I don't know about you, but I had a lot of fun ranking Hayao Miyazaki's feature filmography. So much so that I feel inspired to do the same with some other beloved auteur. The only issue is deciding which director to rank next. In those write-ups, a commenter suggested David Lynch, so he's on the list of candidates, but there are many more possibilities, storied careers full of fascinating films. Why not put it to a readers' vote and let you choose who you wish to read about? That's exactly what we're doing, and you have ten possibilities to choose from, all of which have works I love and a filmography small enough to be manageable…

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Everything's coming up Jacob

by Cláudio Alves

With Priscilla in theaters and Saltburn on the horizon, it's a good time to be Jacob Elordi. Or, alternatively, one of his fans. After terrorizing the characters of Euphoria and skating by the Kissing Booth movies without much effort, the Australian actor is proving to be a force to be reckoned with and an auteur magnet to boot. For Sofia Coppola, he's Elvis perceived through a prism of domestic nightmare, proposing a take on the legend that should be antithetical to last year's Luhrmann-directed biopic. In Emerald Fennell's sophomore feature, his statuesque figure is framed as an object of perilous desire cum obsession, like a British twist on Highsmith's Dickie Greenleaf. It's fair to say that the erstwhile HBO hunk is on his way to becoming a movie star…

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Middleburg 2023: Cannes holdovers and Sofia Coppola's "Priscilla"

by Lynn Lee

Hello TFE readers!  I’m back after some time away, having completed an intense one-year work assignment that left me barely enough time to keep up with the movies, let alone write about them.  To celebrate my return to normalcy, my husband and I spent a long weekend in Middleburg, VA, partly for relaxation (Middleburg’s a pretty little town in horse and wine country, ideal for a fall getaway) but mostly so I could get my fill of movies at the annual Middleburg Film Festival.  As Nathaniel’s reported in the past, for a relatively young, non-centrally located festival, Middleburg punches far above its weight.  It regularly manages to land many of the hot tickets out of Toronto, Telluride, Venice, and Cannes and has been a fairly reliable harbinger of what the Academy will like.  Like the other festivals, it was a bit less star-studded than usual this year due to the SAG-AFTRA strike, yet still generated plenty of excitement due to the sheer quality of the films.

Day One
The festival opened on a high note with this year’s Palme d’Or winner, Justine Triet’s Anatomy of a Fall... 

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Venice 2023: Sofia Coppola's "Priscilla"

by Elisa Giudici

Cailee Spaeny stars in Sofia Coppola's "Priscilla"

Years after her own Marie Antoinette, Sofia Coppola returns with Priscilla weaving another narrative about a teenage queen trapped within a gilded palace. Few storytellers are as adept as Coppola in capturing the essence of female adolescence and the fleeting emotions of someone discovering their true self. (Unfortunately, there is a scarcity of writers and directors interested in exploring such characters.)

From the outset of Priscilla, Priscilla (Cailee Spaeny) is depicted as the quintessential American adolescent girl: there's even a scene of her idly tapping her foot beneath her school desk, lost in boredom and daydreams. This seems like a nod to Britney Spears' "Oops... I Did It Again" music video, albeit without the hypersexualization...

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Review: Sofia Coppola's "On the Rocks"

By Lynn Lee

What happens to a poor little rich girl when she grows up?

That question has fueled Sofia Coppola’s career, both to her benefit and to her dismissal by those who find her voice out of tune with the times.  I’m not one of the latter, so I sometimes feel oddly defensive about enjoying her films.  Although she’s far from the only writer or director to focus on the interior lives of wealthy white people, there’s something about her work that provokes a particularly insidious disdain in a way that Downton Abbey or Wes Anderson, say, does not.  Gender is an obvious factor in that difference, plus the shadow of her father and the advantages she’s assumed to have derived from him, as well as the limitations on her perspective of her own privilege.  Impatient viewers chafe at her characters’ seeming lack of chafing or rattling of the bars of their gilded cages, which Coppola presents less like cages than delicately tinted soap bubbles, their inhabitants’ discontents and subversions more often internalized than explicitly articulated.

Coppola’s latest feature, On the Rocks, plays in many ways like a wryly self-aware response to her critics...

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