Coppola films the robberies with a strange, hypnotic rhythm. The teens crawl through doggy doors, rifle through jewelry boxes, and pose for selfies in their victims’ mirrors. The most famous scene has Emma Watson’s Nikki—a hilariously deadpan Valley girl—trying on Lindsay Lohan’s dresses and whispering, “I feel like we’re just, like, living in a dream world.”
The rest of the young cast (Katie Chang as the ringleader Rebecca, Taissa Farmiga as the fragile Sam) are appropriately vacant. You won’t root for them. You’ll just watch them spiral.
The film opens with a key sequence: our narrator, Marc (Israel Broussard), watches a home video of Paris Hilton’s closet—a cavernous, pink-carpeted cathedral of heels, bags, and dresses. The teens don’t break in with ski masks and crowbars. They Google celebrity addresses, check Twitter to see who’s out of town, and simply walk through unlocked doors. The Bling Ring
If you like Sofia Coppola’s detached, mood-driven style ( Marie Antoinette , Somewhere ), you’ll appreciate this. If you need characters to root for or a clear moral, look elsewhere.
The film’s biggest weakness is its own aesthetic. Coppola’s signature style—soft lighting, slow zooms, a soundtrack of thumping club music—is gorgeous, but it keeps the audience at arm’s length. We never get inside these kids’ heads. Are they sociopaths? Victims of neglect? Addicted to dopamine hits from Instagram likes? The film raises these questions but refuses to answer them, preferring to float above the action like a bored ghost. Coppola films the robberies with a strange, hypnotic rhythm
But this is a Sofia Coppola film. Don’t expect Ocean’s Eleven . Expect a dreamy, detached, and deliberately uncomfortable meditation on the emptiness of 21st-century fame culture.
Yes, that Emma Watson. Fresh off Harry Potter , she delivers her most divisive performance as Nicki, a vapid, aspiring reality star who speaks in self-help platitudes ( “I want to live in the now, and be, like, totally mindful.” ). Her American accent wobbles, her posture is rigid, and her lines are delivered with a bizarre, staccato rhythm. Is it bad acting? Or brilliant parody of a girl who has no inner life? I lean toward the latter. Watson is genuinely hilarious and frightening in her shallowness. You won’t root for them
That’s the point. They aren’t stealing for survival. They’re stealing for proximity . The designer clothes aren’t just fabric; they’re magic skins that might transform them into the people they worship on TMZ.