On Swift Horses

 

Director Daniel Minahan

author Shannon Pufahl

ON SWIFT HORSES             B                                                                                                     USA  (117 mi)  2024  d: Daniel Minahan

You ever feel like that, though?  Like there’s just this narrow window of time when what you want might come to you?

A mostly slow and quiet 50’s film about forbidden desires, or the underside of the American Dream, where people are not what they appear to be or act like we expect, carefully concealing their queer desires in order to be accepted into the Eisenhower postwar mainstream, when white conservatism was guided by rules that excluded anyone who was different, often violently, feeling no remorse whatsoever in their exclusionary behavior, nothing to apologize for, as a fast track to success depended on it.  Adapted by Bryce Kass from the 2019 novel by Shannon Pufahl (an excerpt may be read here: On Swift Horses), now teaching creative writing at Stanford University, who grew up in rural Kansas, inspired by memories of her own grandmother, dedicating the book to her, introducing the young author to the world of gambling at a young age, accompanying her on many trips to Las Vegas, driving from one gambling mecca to the next, setting the story in the mid-50’s, a time of promise, yet also dreams deferred, exploring repressed desires and a fluctuating identity during a time when the nation was going through a major peacetime transformation, not yet sure what to expect, yet the outlook for the future was an unlimited horizon.  Exuding a strong sense of place, inimitably drawn to the 1950’s American West, a time that preceded the Civil Rights movement of the 60’s, typically seen through the eyes of straight white men, this film is rich with detail, showcasing unique characters who counter the narrative of a conservatively safe and secure America, where they are instead willing to take risks, gambling with their lives that something better lies ahead. Described by the director as “a re-imagining of the American Dream through a queer lens,” this film relies on small coded gestures, like a glance, a lingering touch, or a matchbook passed along, where gambling is used as a metaphor for being queer during a time when it was extremely dangerous, considered a crime, something kept under the rug, with almost no public discourse about it, barely ever mentioned or talked about in the mainstream, yet they are ordinary people leading ordinary lives.  While he’s worked in television, including several episodes of Game of Thrones (2011 – 2019), as well as American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace (2018), this is only the second film from this director since the comedy noir thriller SERIES 7: THE CONTENDERS (2001), an edgy satire on reality TV shows run wild.  Very faithful to the book, a historical fiction novel with LGBTQ+ themes, and while it pales in comparison to the generation-defining Ang Lee adaptation of Brokeback Mountain (2005), this film offers a vision of the 50’s that is distinctly at odds with the idea that this decade was an American golden age, evocative of the subversive melodramas of Douglas Sirk, like All That Heaven Allows (1955) and Written On the Wind (1956), or Todd Haynes’ FAR FROM HEAVEN (2002) and 2015 Top Ten List #6 Carol, with a nod to Sam Mendes’ Revolutionary Road (2008), reminding us that there was never a time when women didn’t work outside the home, where nostalgic reflections often omit the bigotry and oppression experienced.  Beautifully shot by Luc Montpellier, Sarah Polley’s cinematographer who shot Take This Waltz (2011) and 2023 Top Ten List #1 Women Talking, this is part romance, part suspense thriller, and part drama, filled with multiple meandering subplots, where in the end the disparate elements may never really come together, feeling uneven, lacking a coherent vision, but there’s a literary aspect that feels intimately familiar.    

In the immediate aftermath of the Korean War, atomic bombs are being tested in the empty desert outside of Las Vegas, a spectacle that literally lights up the skies, drawing plenty of spectators, yet it’s also an era of suburban sprawl and a massive national highway movement connecting the entire country together, while there are also advancements in color television, all of which plays in the background of the story, cleverly announced by a melancholic Loren Kramar cover version of 1959 HITS ARCHIVE: Mr. Blue - Fleetwoods (a #1 record) YouTube (2:23), which plays over a collage of photo albums from the period, with an original score composed by Mark Orton.  Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Lee (Will Poulter) are living a quiet life in an isolated part of Kansas, in a home Muriel’s late mother left to her, with floral wallpaper and old wooden furniture, where no neighbor can be seen for miles, yet the prevailing sentiment is that Muriel feels “orphaned and alone” after the death of her mother, the first woman in town to get a car, a college degree, and a divorce, so out of respect for her mother’s independence she’s been coy to Lee’s persistent marriage requests.  But that all changes when Lee’s more charismatic brother Julius arrives, played by Australian actor Jacob Elordi, who inhabited the role of Elvis Presley in Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla (2023), playing another free spirit of a different kind here, a wayward gambler with a secret past, whose mere presence stirs something deep inside Muriel, both feeling the same sense of alienation, like two lost souls.  The two brothers are close, having made a pact during the war that they would pool their money to buy a home together when the war was over, with the home providing a stability they never had, so for Lee, marriage is essential, as that embodies his conception of “home.”  Julius is more of a free spirit, immediately drawing the attention of Muriel, fascinated by his easygoing freedom, feeling an attraction that was not about sex which she doesn’t fully understand, yet both are acutely observant outsiders, making her feel that “the world was bigger than she had imagined.”  This idea of a love triangle incites a sudden interest in marriage, but as soon as they trek across the country to discover a brand new housing development in San Diego, Julius vanishes for Las Vegas, sleeping with women and men for money, eventually hooking up with a Vegas casino as part of their security detail, where his job is to surveil the customers from a one-way mirror located above the floor, where he can view them undetected from a variety of angles, earning extra bonuses when he spots cheaters, who are never prosecuted, but taken out back where they are brutally pummeled and run out of town.  It’s Lee’s dream to own a suburban house, one that Muriel acquiesces to, even if that means she’ll have to sell her mother’s house, which for her is a personal oasis and her only real connection to family, one of the many sacrifices she’ll have to make in the interest of keeping up appearances, which is all a façade, as she’s never really loved Lee or wanted to be part of his straightlaced world, but was always more fascinated by his restless brother, lured by his existential angst, yet Lee has warned her about Julius, “He’s not like us; his passions are different…he gets to live like there’s no tomorrow.”  Nonetheless, they secretly correspond with one another by mail, encouraging each other, sharing their private thoughts, unbeknownst to her husband.  Yet the manner in which this evolves can feel overly predetermined, lacking any feeling of naturalness or spontaneity, where it all fits together, but lacks dramatic urgency until the final few sequences that add a distinctly poetic texture.  

In something of parallel stories, the heart of the film is following the secret lives of both Muriel and Julius, both using deception as a means of self-preservation, with Muriel working as a waitress at a racetrack café, keeping notes on what she’s able to overhear, then placing bets accordingly, where her success rate is phenomenal, earning a healthy stack of money, which she contributes to the down payment on their new home, telling her husband she got the money by selling the home in Kansas, but she keeps a secret stash behind a mirror, offering her a sense of independence, while Julius develops a crush for another man, Henry, played by Diego Calva from Damien Chazelle’s Babylon (2022), both working next to each other by night while having steamy sex during the day.  Muriel has a few secret flings of her own, both with women, meeting Gail (Katrina Cunningham) at the track, a sultry blonde, eventually finding she hangs out at the dingy Chester Hotel catering to a same sex clientele, introducing her to an undiscovered world where men dance with men and women with women, where she is informed, “We’re all just a hair’s breadth from losing everything, all the time,” while closer to home she runs into Sandra (Sasha Calle), who is part of a vibrant queer community, trying to keep her family farm operational on her own while a proposed highway is expected to cut through her land, something passed down from her Mexican heritage.  In each case, curiosity gets the best of them, yet the scenes are surprisingly tame, with no real nudity, only occasional flashes of skin, where the real problem lies with British actress Daisy Edgar-Jones, who generates no real erotic chemistry or heat, and is surprisingly bland in her personality, feeling overly naïve, with her ultra-repressed housewife resembling Anne Hathaway, where she just has difficulty carrying a picture.  Jacob Elordi, on the other hand, is a throwback to the personal magnetism of 50’s screen icons like James Dean or Montgomery Clift, where he and Henry exhibit passion right from the start and it never lets up, even when they’re no longer onscreen, as it carries over.  There’s a subtle jab at race differences, as both Muriel and Julius have it so much easier than the paths of Sandra and Henry because they’re white, easily forgiven for their many transgressions, as no one ever scrutinizes their behavior, with Sandra at one point expressing outrage at Muriel’s patronizing attitude, showing little regard for what others are subjected to, where this issue is more hinted at than elaborated with any degree of depth.  Instead the prevailing emotion is a melancholic anguish, as neither love nor the American Dream provide any real degree of satisfaction, where there’s a gaping hole missing that is left unfilled, taking great pains to explain what it was like being closeted in the 50’s, an era where repressed sexuality and queer relations go hand in hand, eloquently interweaving Southern California’s illicit gay joints, Mexico, and memories of Kansas, where the most poignant image is a Chester Hotel bulletin board for lost lovers who have missed their connections, leaving little personal notes attached, often with photos, in hopes they could find each other, which is how they maintained connections in the shadows, emblematic of how queer people always find each other, even in the most repressed environments, with Muriel finally discovering that the mystery Julius represents actually resides deep within her own restless soul.  The finale offers the allure of freedom, a possibility of a better future, but it’s etched in heartbreak and despair, where distance is real, whether emotionally or geographically, reflective of the extreme isolation queer people felt at the time, as each gets increasingly lonely and lost, beautifully encapsulated by the melancholic song written exclusively for the film playing over the end credits, Loren Kramar’s Song For Henry YouTube (4:15), where it’s hard to imagine this story ending any other way. 

Priscilla

 

Director Sofia Coppola

Cailee Spaeny with Best Actress prize from Venice

Elvis and Priscilla

Coppola on the set with Spaeny and Jacob Elordi

Sofia Coppola with Priscilla Presley

PRISCILLA               B+                                                                                                             USA  Italy  (113 mi)  2023  d: Sofia Coppola

I wanted to write about love and precious, wonderful moments and ones filled with grief and disappointments, about a man’s triumphs and defeats, much of it with a child-woman at his side, feeling and experiencing his pain and joys as if they were one.

—Priscilla Presley, from the epilogue of Elvis and Me, 1985

Sofia Coppola is an acquired taste, and not everyone gets her, including yours truly, where her career has largely been viewed as a series of hits or misses, with Lost in Translation (2002), Somewhere (2010), and now this film remaining the most successful examples of her highly personalized, semi-autobiographical style.  Yet do we really need another Elvis story, coming so soon after Baz Luhrmann’s ELVIS (2022)?  Probably not, but with each of these directors you’re likely to get a mystifyingly unique take on a familiar subject.  Having grown up in the era of Elvis, seeing him plastered on magazine covers, he was the Hollywood matinee idol in the music world, yet his celebrity status was elevated beyond comprehension.  And that’s where Coppola comes in, as that’s a world she not only knows but is intimately familiar with in ways the rest of us aren’t.  So perhaps she’s as good as anyone to guide us through this journey.  The beauty of this film is it’s not really about Elvis, who is a gargantuan force, obviously, but purely secondary, as the entire film, literally every moment, is seen through the young and impressionable eyes of Priscilla, who remains starstruck by the powerful presence and superstar power of a man who is ten years older, already known as the King, an icon in the music industry, one of the most popular and influential artists of the 20th century, where his popularity was unprecedented, providing an almost fairy tale existence of wealth beyond her wildest dreams, where this becomes a Beauty and the Beast saga.  Unlike Coppola’s MARIE ANTOINETTE (2006), which was dripping with artificiality, this is a fairly realistic but minimalist portrayal, providing an exclusive look at what went on behind the scenes, confining much of the story to the bedroom, living room, and other private quarters, where so much of it takes place in the dark, shutting out the outside world, which is a fitting metaphor for the cloistered isolation of fame, where her suffocating marriage is viewed as a gilded cage, becoming something of a metaphorical prison.  Adapted from Priscilla Presley’s 1985 memoir Elvis and Me (co-written with Sandra Harmon), she is listed as an executive producer, though the film does not have the support of the rest of Presley’s family, which denied the rights to any of his music, though early in the film an instrumental version of “Love Me Tender” can be heard.  Nonetheless, at the Venice Film Festival premiere, Priscilla was reduced to tears while the film received a 7-minute standing ovation.  Coppola simply doesn’t make films like anybody else, where each is a unique experience, giving viewers an opportunity to experience the familiar with a new awareness, as this is a much different perspective on both Elvis and Priscilla, providing an intimate and unflinching human portrait, recalling another famous figure in Pablo Larraín’s Jackie (2016), yet Coppola’s restrained and thoroughly impressionable style can be confounding to viewers who expect a coherent storyline, or a recognizable biographical timeline, where this is a quieter and more understated character study that is essentially a love story, with a killer soundtrack that couldn’t be more mesmerizing, providing a poetic, internalized narrative, while the personalized nature of the subject matter is unmistakable. 

While Lisa Marie Presley (who died from a heart attack earlier this year), the only child of Elvis and Priscilla Presley, praised the Baz Luhrmann film that earned close to $300 million dollars worldwide, which explored the relationship between Elvis and his longtime manager Colonel Tom Parker, she had nothing but scorn for Coppola’s script, revealed in exchanged emails with the director, claiming “My father only comes across as a predator and manipulative.  As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character.  I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father.  I read this and see your shockingly vengeful and contemptuous perspective and I don’t understand why?”  However she died before ever seeing the film, though it was not likely to change her view, as she was the sole executor of the Presley estate and extremely protective of her father’s legacy.  Priscilla Presley, on the other hand, was free to express her own life without any restrictions or limitations, and praised Coppola’s film for its realism.  Her book was actually dedicated to Lisa Marie, and was a #1 New York Times bestseller, yet the content of the film that Lisa Marie found so objectionable originated in her mother’s autobiographical book, as there’s nothing fictitiously added in Coppola’s version that’s not found in the book.  One unmistakable connection exists between Lisa Marie Presley and Sofia Coppola, as they are both daughters of famous celebrities.  All of that is a curious backdrop to the film, where what’s perhaps the most surprising is the age of Priscilla (Cailee Spaeny) when she first met Elvis (Jacob Elordi) at a party, as she was only 14, and in 9th grade, while he was the biggest rock star in the world, with Elvis acknowledging “Why, you’re just a baby.”  How do you discreetly address the rock ‘n’ roll dilemma of grown men romancing young school girls?  Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters, the Grateful Dead, and dozens of others regularly performed the sexist blues standard “Good Morning Little School Girl” and no one blinked an eye.   When Jerry Lee Lewis married his 13-year old cousin, it caused an uproar, but he continued recording well into his 70’s.  While this is an unsettling reminder of how often “little school girls” are on the periphery of pop music, a troublesome aspect of the male-dominated music industry, Coppola’s film doesn’t shy away from it, with Presley even seen performing Lewis’s signature number Jerry Lee Lewis -Whole Lotta Shakin Going On (Live 1964) YouTube (7:02) at a party, but she also doesn’t moralize over what was obviously a more accepted practice at the time.  Instead she chooses a different way to present the story, where it all unfolds like a dream, with inescapable realities that suggest problematic behavior, but others have gone down that same road as Elvis who died at the age of 42 after struggling with a decades-long substance abuse problem, which worsened in the years leading up to his death, where celebrity status leads to pills, drugs, or alcohol, and a fractured reality, where the history of rock ‘n’ roll is littered with the dead bodies of male and female legends who died before their time.

Set in 1959 near a U.S. military base in Germany, Elvis was drafted into the Army near the peak of his fame, while Priscilla’s stepfather was a career officer, U.S. Air Force Captain Beaulieu (Ari Cohen).  Having grown up in Texas, when we first meet Priscilla she is an overly shy yet pretty girl who is used to being unsettled, unhappily moving from base to base every few years, now finding herself on the other side of the world, much like Coppola moving from movie set to movie set during her childhood, going to different schools in different towns, attending kindergarten in the Philippines during the extended shooting of APOCALYPSE NOW (1979).  While sitting in a local diner catering to American military families, listening to Frankie Avalon’s “Venus,” Frankie Avalon - Venus (1959) 4K YouTube (2:25), she is approached by an Air Force serviceman who asked if she liked Elvis Presley, as he and his wife would be attending a Presley party at his home this weekend and asked if she’d like to come along, assuring her family that he’d be her chaperone.  This simple gesture started it all, literally plucked from obscurity, finding it hard to believe she’d make any kind of impression on a man so famous, but he’s immediately taken by her beauty and innocence, asking a lot of questions about what kind of music the kids back home listen to these days, sharing a first kiss, where she is positively enthralled he actually “liked” her and wanted to see her again.  Unable to concentrate in school the next day, Coppola’s impeccable musical choice is Tommy James and the Shondells - Crimson & Clover - YouTube (3:25), with love blossoming in the air (“Now I don’t hardly know her, but I think I could love her”), as Priscilla is seen with a slight smile on her face as she gracefully walks through the high school corridor as if on a cloud.  And the dream has begun.  According to Priscilla during a Venice Film Festival press conference, “Elvis would pour his heart out to me in every way in Germany: his fears, his hopes, the loss of his mother—which he never ever got over.  And I was the person who really, really sat there to listen and to comfort him.  That was really our connection.”  After regularly seeing each other, developing more than an infatuation, though always playing a passive, subordinate role, she’s positively heartbroken when his tour of duty is over and he returns to the States, as despite his many promises, she doesn’t hear from him again in years, thinking he’s forgotten all about her while she follows his budding movie career in all the magazines, including the much publicized affairs with his female costars.  Then suddenly out of the blue, he calls and wants her to visit his Memphis estate in Graceland, sending her airfare, welcomed by his friends and business associates, where the luxuriousness of the massive estate is hard to even imagine, but they take a side detour to Las Vegas where he introduces her to his prescription pills, amphetamines (Dexedrine) and barbiturates (Placidyls), uppers and downers that he initially stole from his mother (who was trying to lose weight) when he was in high school, the same lethal combination that led to the substance abuse problems of country singer Johnny Cash, which is something he regularly utilizes to get through the punishing work schedule arranged by his manager, Colonel Tom Parker (who is never shown onscreen).  When she returns back from her visit, she looks like a ghost of her former self, sending red flags to her parents, but Elvis convinces them to allow her to live with his family and staff at Graceland, while promising her parents she will enroll in Catholic school to complete her senior year, where she becomes an object of fascination to the other students.   

Incredulously, Priscilla’s drug use continues, taking a pill each morning before school, which may help get her through the day, but her concentration and mental focus is lost in the fog, leaving her scraping by just trying to graduate, resorting to unethical means (cheating) to do so, while the unorthodox nature of her relationship stands out, with a domineering partner who has an overcontrolling nature and a vicious temper problem, as Priscilla wasn’t allowed to work or have outside interests, but was required to be at home when he “needed” her, even as he was away for weeks or months at a time.  Elvis picked out her wardrobe, make-up, and hairstyle, refusing to allow her input, actually threatening to send her back to her parents when she disagreed, reducing her to tears, even doing her packing before relenting and reminding her how lucky she was to be with him, as any woman in America would love to be in her place.  Part of his celebrity mystique is women threw themselves at him, sent him love letters, and willingly offered themselves in the wild chance that he might agree.  While Elvis projected himself as a sex symbol and free spirit, he was extraordinarily conservative, believing the male was the stronger sex and that women needed to know their place, insisting that she needed to remain faithful to him even while he engaged in multiple affairs.  He was obsessed with firearms and loved to take target practice on the premises, providing Priscilla with a matching pistol for each dress.  What’s most evident is that Elvis was a grown-up kid, enjoying playing pranks, roughhousing, and hanging out with the guys, surrounding himself with a circle of friends who showed blind allegiance (his all-male entourage was nicknamed the Memphis Mafia), where he was always allowed to get his way, growing furious with her if she showed any signs of resistance, while denying all rumors of sexual romances with other movie stars he worked with, especially Ann Margaret, despite the saturated headlines in all the magazines and newspapers.  To his credit, he could be very persuasive, where his sweet talk could be utterly charming, and she could fall under his spell, with the euphoria of their marriage evoking a musical reference to the outlaw lovers in Terrence Malick’s BADLANDS (1973), Badlands • Gassenhauer • Carl Orff YouTube (2:50).  While much of this sounds manipulative and controlling, there can be no doubt that they also loved each other, where the film follows the dozen or so years they spent together, told with an extraordinary tenderness, paying closer attention to the various stages of female adolescence and young adulthood, which is what attracted Coppola to the material, as this mirrors her own transition into womanhood.  Coppola’s marriage dissolved during the making of Lost in Translation, while the inevitable train wreck of Priscilla’s marital purgatory also comes to an end, where her boxed-in powerlessness is replaced by separate lives and a world of new opportunities, moving to Los Angeles in her late twenties to celebrate her newly discovered independence, finally empowered to act on her own, beautifully expressed by Santana’s Oye Como Va YouTube (4:17) with the palm trees lining the roadway, yet what stands out is the resolve it took to leave such a powerful man who completely transformed her life.  Cailee Spaeny is onscreen in nearly every shot, awarded the Best Actress prize at the Venice Film Festival, where her mostly subdued and understated performance resonates, especially when compared to the more volatile emotional mix that was Elvis, yet the coup de grâce is the finale, where the inspired choice is Dolly Parton’s transcendent vision, Dolly Parton - I Will Always Love You (Official Audio) YouTube (2:55), supposedly the song Elvis sang to Priscilla after the completion of their divorce, leaving viewers utterly transfixed by the experience.