Somewhere: movie review
Sofia Coppola’s minutely observed ‘Somewhere’ examines the emptiness of Hollywood celebrity.
Sofia Coppola’s “Somewhere” opens with a long shot of a black Ferrari circling an empty desert speedway for what seems like an eternity. After about the fifth lap, I understood what Coppola was going for: real-time anomie. There’s lots of that in this film.
The driver of the car turns out to be Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff), a mid-level movie star, recently divorced, who is shacking up at the Chateau Marmont, a funky Hollywood hotel known for sequestering fringey celebrities.
Having broken his arm, Johnny is nursing his impediment with a parade of willing women with whom he mostly dozes off in mid-act, even when being entertained by twin pole dancers. Their routine goes on for about as long as that Ferrari roundabout and is just about as sexy.
When not nodding off, Johnny heads out for the occasional party or publicity junket or prosthetics fitting session for his next film. When his 11-year-old daughter, Cleo (an excellent Elle Fanning), shows up for a visit that turns into an extended stay, Johnny gradually bonds, as best as he can, with her. She seems a lot wiser than he. At least she knows how to cook.