On the long and winding road to "Somewhere," writer-director Sofia Coppola took a wrong turn and was irretrievably lost. That's lost as stumbling-through-the-woods lost, or in-the-midst-of-rush-hour-traffic lost, or as what-in-the-world-am-I-going-to-do-about-this lost.
And she ended up nowhere.
She began with a minimal premise. Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff), a 30-ish male movie actor, more handsome than many, successful and devoutly heterosexual, is living in the legendary Chateau Marmont Hotel in Hollywood. He recently finished a movie and is doing pre-opening promotional work. That involves taking part in press junkets, traveling to appear at festivals and other things to be seen and interviewed. This leaves him plenty of time to have sex with a series of lusty women, both seasoned professionals and ardent amateurs.
The act of seduction, which can take considerable time, is as quick as momentary eye contact for Johnny. A quick look at a blonde in a Mercedes at a traffic light results in his following her, in his Ferrari, through the Hollywood hills and into a driveway where she's waiting at the end.
His involvement with the publicity department of the movie, and with the oh-so-eager press corps that takes movie junkets to write puff pieces about actors and their movies, produces some of the best scenes. (Full disclosure: I traveled on many for many years while at the Post-Dispatch.)
Johnny's kind of lost. He does not seem to have any interests or even any life, and he's getting bored with sex to the point where he falls asleep while a pair of pole-dancing lovelies are trying to entertain him. He has an ex-wife, a better relationship than most people have with former spouses, and a cute, charming, 11-year-old daughter played very delicately by Elle Fannng. Johnny has occasional visitation and they seem to get along.
She seems poised, shy but capable of ordering supplies from room service so she can cook breakfast, but she's rather listless and doesn't show much more reality or ambition than her father. When her mother reports that she's going away for a while and Johnny will be in charge for a few days before the beginning of summer camp, Johnny doesn't do much more than shopping for camp supplies.
There are no questions from either, no discussion of a new or different life style. There's less intellectual curiosity than shown by a recent Republican president. Coppola doesn't seem very interested in them, either, even though she created them.
And when Johnny realizes that maybe he hasn't been an ideal Dad, or even an adequate one, he's standing under the noise of a whirling helicopter blade, and she's getting into a taxi a half-block away. It's a vivid, visual example of "We've got a failure to communicate," as Donn Pearce wrote and Strother Martin told Paul Newman in "Cool Hand Luke."
So does Sofia Coppola.
"Somewhere" opens today at the Tivoli.
—Joe