Priscilla review – subtle and sensational

In a 2016 interview with Vanity Fair, Jennifer Garner was asked about her marriage to Ben Affleck, which ended the previous year. “He’s just a complicated guy,” Garner said. “I always say, ‘When his sun shines on you, you feel it. But when the sun is shining elsewhere, it’s cold.’ He can cast quite a shadow.” This could be equally applied to the relationship between Priscilla and Elvis Presley, as depicted in Sofia Coppola’s biographical drama.

A filmmaker who has always shown an acute interest in the interiority of teenage girls, and the reality of otherwise picture-perfect romance, Coppola seems uniquely suited to tackle the story of the woman behind the man. As a lonely American teenager living on a US airbase in Germany, Priscilla Beaulieu (Cailee Spaeny) meets Elvis Presley (Jacob Elordi) for the first time at a party.

He’s a tall, charismatic presence, who initially mistakes Priscilla for a high school senior. When she tells him she’s 14, he lets out a low whistle. “You’re just a baby,” he murmurs. But this doesn’t stop Presley from pursuing Priscilla, and the teenager from falling head over heels. It’s a fairy tale in Priscilla’s eyes; a sweet, handsome man has come to rescue her from her isolation and take her back to America.

Coppola never tries to justify the relationship between Elvis and Priscilla – we see Priscilla’s parents agonising over the decision to allow her to leave for Memphis, or forbid it and risk losing her all the same – but she does underscore the significant age gap between the two. While he’s mulling over career decisions, she’s doing homework. Soon enough Elvis is advising Priscilla how to dress and telling her she should dye her hair and wear more makeup. He creates the perfect rock star’s girlfriend, and Priscilla – alone in his world – has little option but to cooperate.

She becomes an outlet for him to offload his emotional baggage, confessing his hopes and dreams but never asking what Priscilla’s are. When she enquires about maybe going to work in a boutique part-time, he quickly forbids it, stating she has to be around the house in case he needs her. When Elvis buys Priscilla a puppy after she moves into Graceland, how is she supposed to know she’s expected to walk and to heel too?

Yet we do see what it was that Priscilla loved about him, even if the film is relatively chaste (a late scene seems to pull its punches about a marital sexual assault which was detailed in Priscilla’s memoir). Elvis is generous and attentive, so long as he’s never questioned. Only as she grows up does Priscilla realise she needs more than he’s willing (or perhaps able) to give.

There’s something comforting about fairytales because we know how they end. I’ve always thought biopics function in a similar way – they’re often a story we’ve known all along, told slightly differently. The real beauty of Priscilla is its delicate portrayal of the all-consuming fire and flood of first love, and what happens when you grow up, and begin to realise the fairytale doesn’t always have a happy ending. And that’s okay, too. Fairytales are fantasies, after all. The sun goes on shining when you step out of someone else’s shadow.

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