Somewhere: Anywhere but Here

By Joseph Romano

Spoilers Ahead!

The term ‘somewhere’ doesn’t even indicate a direction. One does not need a destination in mind when he or she is going somewhere. The only place that constitutes somewhere else is away from here. Sofia Coppola’s 2010 film is not only elegant and glowing with an external aesthetic beauty, but it also embraces you with its overwhelming internal charm. In truth very little occurs on screen in Somewhere, yet at the same time our main character – Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) – unalterably changes through the 98-minute run time. He cannot escape the circular track that he speeds along in his black Ferrari in the film’s opening shot. He lives out of a hotel, has no meaningful human interaction, women flow in and out of his life on a daily basis, and he seems to be utterly bored by it all. The only saving grace is his daughter Cleo (Elle Fanning).     

Johnny Marco’s world-famous actor – as seen during his escapade to premiere his new movie in Italy – is meandering through his aesthetically beautiful, yet profoundly empty existence. Such concepts are not spewed out verbally through the film’s dialogue, which is notably bare. Rather it is established in the visual atmosphere that Coppola and DP Harris Savides tirelessly instill through their ravishing cinematography – with a keen photographic eye and a flare of French New Wave cinema. Coppola even employed lenses that her father used on his 1983 film Rumble Fish. 

Shot on film and minimalist by design – modern-day Los Angeles really does have a tint of melancholy hanging over it. The camera lingers on our characters and by virtue of this, their emotions are manifested on the screen. When Johnny is experiencing joy, mostly when spending time with Cleo, the frame becomes illuminated. When he is alone, and the overwhelming loneliness seeps through, the frame is dominated by a dimness. Almost as if a cloud has passed overhead to block out the sun, just as his inner pain has overtaken him.

They all said he was going somewhere – he has talent, looks, and more fame than he knows what to do with, but he never had direction. He was stagnated on his loop of loveless relationships and mired in a state of boredom-induced self-pity. His extended time with Cleo revitalized his life. There is liveliness where there once was a sizeable disconnect. After watching her skate for the first time, Johnny tells her he had no idea she had such talent at it, to which she replies that she has been skating for three years.

The film attempts to underscore this idea multiple times throughout. At the Italian award show, where Johnny is celebrated, he and his daughter sit in the audience knowing little else than a few words of the language. Later Johnny, finally realizing the error of his ways, attempts to apologize to his daughter for not always being there, not being the best father he could be. Yet, his only sincere attempt at engaging with his inner emotions and faults as both a human and a father is thoroughly obscured by the cacophonous trashing of helicopter blades.

More than being just lost in translation, as Coppola’s 2003 Oscar-winning hit would indicate, this disconnect is born in Johnny’s inability to connect with others, to communicate. He will never get the lost time with his daughter back, that he has squandered, but he was able to realize before it was too late that he ought to be the father she deserves. Locking himself away in a hotel room never was going to give his life the meaning he craved, it was only a defense mechanism. Speeding down the streets of LA and wandering throughout life without constructing any tangible human connections were a façade he erected to defend himself from himself and his all-consuming inner sadness and dissatisfaction.

The time he gets with Cleo before she goes off to summer camp – ordering room service gelato in the middle of the night, relaxing by the hotel pool, and eating Eggs Benedict – transforms Johnny. He is still the same man, but with a new understanding. He might not be able to right the wrongs of his past, but perhaps he can overcome his flawed way of life and carve out a better future. To be a better person for himself and for his daughter.

Johnny may not be the most well-equipped or well-adjusted parental figure. After all, he decided to cheer his daughter up by taking her to play craps in Las Vegas and, while in Italy, exposed her to one of the myriad of women that enter and exit his life in a moment’s notice – to Cleo’s seething displeasure. However, the important part is that he is giving it his all and now that he has extricated himself from that empty life, he can improve in that regard as well. Johnny will not be the absent presence that he had been for most of Cleo’s life, finally becoming her father in more than just name. 

The disappointments are tangible throughout the film, the viewer understands Johnny’s pain – not because he or she is being told to, but because it is embedded within the delicate light of each and every frame. Perhaps Somewhere isn’t doing too much different than Sofia Coppola’s larger body of work, yet there is a deep-seated emotion in this that bubbles to the surface most prominently in the last act. The central performances are sterling, portraying a cornucopia of emotion without uttering much of anything. It might not be the most accessible subject matter for many viewers, thus possibly branding this film as an acquired taste, however, it provides another reminder that fortune and pain are not mutually exclusive.

Wealth and fame by no means necessitate happiness for everyone, just as happiness need not only be coupled with success. One can achieve a direction – with the potential to go somewhere – when he or she can realize who he or she is and accept his or her responsibilities. Johnny Marco is isolated until he comes to the realization that there are other possibilities for him, chiefly to further develop the budding bond he has begun to develop with his daughter. In essence, to go somewhere you have to be more than just someone, you must become yourself.