5. Long Live Sofia

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation.  Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Do you remember rock n’roll radio? You know who does? Sofía Coppola. I love Sofia Coppola, today more than yesterday, and I will make this public declaration of love because she has told us another story in her brilliant and talented way. It is a story behind the music that seems to illustrate the headlines of a very famous and public marriage, based on Priscilla Prestly’s memoir.  There is a darkness and depravity that both anchor the spectator and looms over the story in Pricilla. The light comes in initially through the music. Sofia, Sofia, Sofia, you had me at the opening scene, once more. The shot of a young teenager’s feet with painted toenails walking in a shaggy carpet. However, my brain was set ablaze when I heard the opening chords and glorious strings of Baby, I Love You, and Joey Ramone’s adoring voice. It’s the Wall of sound baby, and Sofia Coppola’s directing. My uneducated eye catches very few elements used by this director, nonetheless, I’m going to share what I saw and heard with you and I’d love to know what you think.  I’d like to start with the song if you don’t mind. She uses music to communicate. Anachronism is part of her charm and storytelling. She could have used the original Ronette’s 1963 version, of Baby, I love you,  but she doesn’t. She uses the Ramones, which by the way has a backstory of its own that sets the tone, preparing you for a look into a private, albeit curated and protected, side of Priscilla’s story. When remembering a life, there are facts, what is remembered, and then what Sofia brings to the silver screen. And she is a magnificent storyteller. As soon as I hear the opening chords of Ramone’s version of Baby, I Love You, I was transported to the story of Phil Spector holding the Ramones at gunpoint so they would listen to him play Baby, I love you, over and over and over again. I also remember the way he held his wife hostage. There are parallels and similarities. Perhaps it is part of the fabric the music industry is made of. That is in another Musing Interruptus, but you see, the game is there, Sofia is preparing us for a story of publicly sugar-coated violence. The 1980 version of the song fits this story perfectly. It reminds us of the things we put up with in favor of love, stars, talent, and in some cases, genius. Let’s not forget all abuse finds a limit. This is a story of grooming, like so many before. But this story gets our attention and a special soundtrack because Priscilla was married to the King. The typical elements are there: genius, glamorization, obsessiveness, violence, and people who don’t know any better until they do.  Regardless of what was tolerated or even aspired to at the end of the 50s and 60s, the facts remain. A 10-year age gap between a 14-year-old and a 24-year-old leaves a lot of room for grooming, repression, violence, and general abuse. No matter what school you pay for or how many dresses you pick out and cars you buy. A relationship of control and subjugation is just that.  What do you get when you have teenage hormones, aspirations ingrained and transmitted from every corner of the culture (for instance, marry well, marry a prince… marry a king? What is there to think about?) and of course, the element of a person made a living myth? Priscilla could hardly say no. Her parents surely didn’t.  Then there is the matter of rejection. I don’t know if I would have been able, at 17, to withstand a sexless relationship with all those ho