Priscilla (2023)

Priscilla is special because it takes one of pop culture’s loudest myths and tells it in a hush—an intimate, clear-eyed coming-of-age seen from the inside, where fame feels less like glitter and more like weather. Sofia Coppola directs with her trademark restraint, letting quiet rooms, long waits, and small shifts in power speak louder than any headline, while Cailee Spaeny gives a beautifully calibrated performance that makes Priscilla’s longing, confusion, and growing selfhood feel immediate and real. Jacob Elordi’s Elvis isn’t a caricature so much as a magnetic presence with shadows, which keeps the film tender even when it turns unsettling. It’s not for viewers looking for a big, crowd-pleasing music biopic, but if you want a sensitive, absorbing drama about first love, loneliness, and what it costs to live inside someone else’s spotlight, this one lingers.

Priscilla is clearly aiming to strip the glitter off the Elvis myth and show a young woman slowly being shaped, isolated, and controlled inside a famously glamorous world. Sofia Coppola delivers an elegant, moody atmosphere and Cailee Spaeny is quietly compelling, but the film can feel so restrained and sedate that you may start waiting for emotional insight or narrative momentum that never quite arrives. If you want a sweeping romance, a big Elvis biopic, or a cathartic empowerment arc, this will likely frustrate you because it keeps you at a cool distance and leaves a lot unsaid. It’s best for viewers who appreciate slow-burn character studies and can sit with discomfort rather than expecting clear answers or dramatic payoffs.