In 2006, the world was on the brink of change. Privileged, grotesque, white women laying around in Southern California were about to forever alter culture with their acrylic nails, bodycon dresses, and beige sofas. The Real Housewives of Orange County premiered in March, The Hills followed suit in May, and Keeping up with the Kardashians debuted in October. All three shows captured “reality” but lacked significant dramatic action and were instead deeply infatuated with the mundane. Lunch dates, shopping trips, and tennis lessons combined with petty gossip, betrayal, maybe some pills or a chilled sav blanc, and little to no self awareness meant one thing: cha-ching. Lindsay, Paris, and Britney were also popular for similar reasons at this point in history. However, their partying was picked apart and mocked by the tabloids and their careers and personal lives suffered. You would think there isn’t a whole lot of longevity there, but if 2006 showed us anything, it’s that the “private” was a longterm hot commodity, so why not continually sell it to the public?
Sofia Coppola’s 2006 film Marie Antoinette is built around this reality tv premise except it takes place in 17th century Versailles rather than Calabasas. Initially born in Vienna, young Marie Antoine (Kirsten Dunst) is essentially married into the French Monarchy at the age of 14, so that she can secure an alliance between the two nations. Being a pawn obviously has some personal repercussions, and Coppola uses them to frame the film. Marie marries the eventual King Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman), who is sweet but awkward and only really interested in locks. He doesn’t really scream KING. Upon entering the French court, the xenophobia jumps out and Marie is constantly ridiculed because she can’t get pregnant. It’s not really her fault that her husband won’t have sex with her, but she has one job (in fact, she has many) and no one cares about her side of the story. Dunst’s anxiety looms everywhere throughout these early scenes, and Coppola is sympathetic to her character. Constantly surrounded by gossip that’s reminiscent of a high school cafeteria, Marie suffers as teens do, but eventually she figures it out.
She sneaks out, she parties, she gambles, she shops, and it’s intoxicating like most nights at Les Deux, but she’s missing the bigger picture because she’s so young. Sure, her clothing becomes her armor and her hair holds her secrets, but her wealth and privilege are not beneficial to anyone in the long term. Taxes are frequently mentioned as well as the people of France, but no one has told Marie how they correlate. Her world is just too insular and simplistic, which is not a good combination when you’re the Queen of France. This is why it’s so shocking when Louis decides to help out the Americans with their Revolution. Rather than focus on his own people who he thinks are fine, Louis decides to help out the Americans so he can piss off England. It’s treated as simply as that. The irony is that both Louis and Marie will eventually be sent to the guillotine during the French Revolution, something Coppola chooses to omit. While many think that decision is a copout, K. Austin Collins argues that you “aren’t watching a movie about the life of Marie Antoinette; you’re watching a movie that embodies all the reasons she died.”
While not exactly historically accurate, Marie Antoinette is a strikingly stylish period piece that’s uniquely subversive. In reality, it’s history in layman's terms with a “revisionist” twist as the newbs say, rather than a historically accurate depiction of 17th century France. Marie Antoinette decidedly feels like an American film set in France. Personalities and aesthetics guide the film rather than history, which may annoy the typical costume drama devotee. Kirsten Dunst, Jason Schwartzman, and Rip Torn, a Texan by birth who plays the horny King Louis XV, keep their American accents while the delightful Rose Byrne, who plays the Duchess Polignac and the Lo Bosworth of the group, is always startlingly British and always kind of slurring. They’re mostly likable, but generally speaking, they’re blazingly garish despite being so pink and pretty.
The music and the mise-en-scene add to this dizzying feeling and nothing is half assed. Marie Antoinette was literally shot on location in the Palace of Versailles, so there is an obvious feeling of grandeur. The satin gowns, champagne, and cakes are spectacular, and it’s easy to get lost in these moments especially if you’re prone to sugar or feminine tropes. The dialogue in the film is all over the place. It can be dry or acidic or juicy just like wine. This is one reason the soundtrack slaps. You’re always kind of drunk on some sort of substance. Everyone from the Strokes to Bow Wow Wow make an appearance, and it simply reads as an aphrodisiac or like you’re at a great party with a dj who’s hitting all the right notes. Despite all the stimulation, Marie spends a lot of time laying around. Her bed is coveted and she’s prone to languishing for days on end. Sometimes she’ll walk around the palace like a zombie, but that’s the extent of her movement. The come down feels rough. She lives for the highs, but can’t quite handle the lows.
Marie Antoinette works because we have sympathy for the titular character, but only to a certain extent. Did Marie’s actions directly result in the French Revolution? No, it was much bigger than that, but her partying and general negligence certainly didn’t help her image or the people of France. She’s a divisive figure like Kim Kardashian. Even if she didn’t engage in these vices, she still would’ve wound up dead or at least exiled. After all, what’s the point of a revolution if not abolition? The monarchy really had to go. Coppola, who often gets ragged on for nepotism, is worth her salt despite some obvious privileges and recent blunders (On the Rocks). She’s geared towards these attractive yet aggravating characters because she herself is seen as one. It's no mistake that Coppola’s film The Bling Ring would literally revolve around the idea of reality tv and its repercussions. She’s continuing a theme if not a lifestyle.