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The Bling Ring: shallow popcorn fun that neither condemns nor celebrates the « Me Me Me » generation
Crédit: Who better than Sofia Coppola to direct a film about "young, pretty kids being bad in a glamorous world," right? The most famous female film director in the U.S. has a proven track record for compelling depictions of alienated youth.

Who better than Sofia Coppola to direct a film about "young, pretty kids being bad in a glamorous world," right? The most famous female film director in the U.S. (Kathryn Bigelow comes in a close second) has a proven track record for compelling depictions of alienated youth and/or alienated rich folk. The Virgin Suicides (suburban, oppressed youth), Lost in Translation (aging, aimless movie star in Tokyo), Marie Antoinette (France’s hapless queen) and Somewhere (bad boy actor living large at the Chateau Marmont) all showed marked affection for their characters, as Coppola refrained from either glorifying or passing judgment on their actions.

So it could be said that Coppola treads familiar terrain in The Bling Ring, not her best work by any stretch of the imagination but nevertheless an engaging summer flick. As you’ve probably read by now, Coppola first came across a 2010 Vanity Fair article entitled "The Suspects Wore Louboutins" about a gang of celeb-worshipping, suburban L.A. teens (dubbed "The Bling Ring") who carried out a number of high-stakes burglaries at the Hollywood homes of their most cherished stars (Paris, Lindsay, Megan, Orlando, etc.) They robbed nearly $3 million in cash, designer duds and assorted bling, posting pictures of their loot on their Facebook profiles, dropping wads of cash at L.A.’s gaudiest, celeb-swamped clubs, living just as recklessly as their celeb targets and never thinking for a second that their lucrative, after-dark adventures would come to a crashing halt. Which happened, of course, when they were all arrested and convicted for their crimes.

Easy, breezy, beautiful
The Bling Ring, which premiered to mixed reviews at Cannes last month, is an interesting follow-up to Coppola’s previous film, the wistful Somewhere, about an overworked actor (Stephen Dorff) taking some time off (in the Chateau Marmont, of all places) to care for his 11-year-old daughter and do some much-needed soul searching. This time around, Coppola flips her camera around to zero in on a few of the screaming teens who just can’t gobble up enough tabloid fodder and would do anything to join the ranks of the "Hollywood elite." The Bling Ring’s five perpetrators – portrayed by Harry Potter’s Emma Watson and four other, fresh-faced actors – are kids weaned on a diet of reality TV, who live in a world where anything their heart desires is a mere Google search away. You’d be surprised how effortlessly they locate celeb addresses and determine the most opportune moment to walk into these homes unannounced. Easy, breezy, beautiful – the Bling Ring makes it look like child's play.

Coppola builds an engaging portrait of these Adderall-fed, The Secret-schooled youths, who are just as confused about their burgeoning adult identities as we are about their nebulous motivations. Emma Watson works out a credible (if at times slightly affected) Valley Girl drawl as Nicki, the most outspoken and dimwitted of the bunch, while Bush frontman Gavin Rossdale is cast in a supporting (and underused) turn as a sleazy club promoter who fuels the teens’ unhealthy fascination with the rich and famous. As usual, Coppola doesn’t disappoint with a soundtrack that perfectly complements the story, with its overt bling references and brash, A-lister attitude: Azealia Banks, Sleigh Bells, a pre-Yeezus Kanye, M.I.A., 2 Chainz and Rick Ross guide us along this shame spiral of consumerist excess.

Voyeuristic shopping sprees
Coppola lets us experience the kids’ "shopping sprees" and their ensuing fallout vicariously, while refraining from condemning the narcissistic perpetrators – their cocaine-fuelled, fast-track-to-prison, real-life downfall pretty much takes care of that. Critics who complain that the audience is left guessing as to their motives aren’t recognizing the film’s distinct achievement: making a story about shallow youths with even more shallow motives eminently entertaining. The ultimate meta-layer of shallow that envelops The Bling Ring comes courtesy of Paris Hilton, who, of her own avowal, didn’t even register the burglaries until the kids had already looted her gaudy mansion multiple times – and who nevertheless encouraged Coppola to use her home as a location for the film. Is the joke ultimately on the convicted burglars, on her or on us? Perhaps on Western pop culture as a whole? It's another reminder of just how badly people want to be at the heart of the conversation – at any cost. Privacy? So last season. A sea of pillows adorned with Paris’ face, in Paris’ house? Now that’s hot

Now in theatres

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