A Father-Daughter Bond Is On the Rocks in Sofia Coppola’s Latest

When I’m not changing my baby daughter’s diapers, marshaling her for naps, teaching her the finer points of baking bread, or otherwise marveling at every milestone great and small, I tend to reflect on the ways our relationship might change as she grows up. I imagine most fathers do. I wonder who she’ll be, how she’ll consider me, whether or not she’ll want to keep learning from her old man as I’ll surely hope to learn from her. This is the parent’s mindset: Will my kid still love me when they become their own person? Will they want to spend time with me? Will they care? And more importantly, if they don’t, can I make them?
Sofia Coppola’s new movie On the Rocks starts out as a story of possessive fatherhood, with Felix (Bill Murray) narrating to his teenage daughter, Laura: “And remember, don’t give your heart to any boys. You are mine until you get married. Then you’re still mine.” The girl laughs off the declaration as a jape, which turns out to be a catastrophic tactical mistake. In her womanhood, Laura (Rashida Jones), does indeed get married to a man, Dean (Marlon Wayans), and they have two beautiful daughters of their own, eldest Maya (Liyanna Muscat) and youngest Theo (Alexandra Mary Reimer). Dean is spearheading his own startup, a company that provides vaguely sketched-out services but which keeps him not only busy but in constant motion. Laura stays at home with the girls and, when she’s afforded rare moments of peaceful alone time, attempts to write a book the way Sisyphus attempts to push a boulder up a hill.
She’s in a rut. Dean’s on the rise. He’s so often cross-country that the yawning gap between them is visible from the stratosphere, and then along comes Felix to sweep Laura up and indulge her fear that Dean in fact might be plowing his assistant, Fiona (Jessica Henwick), a knockout at least 10 years her junior. So begins a caper as Felix, protective by way of outmoded patriarchal charm, endeavors to prove Dean’s infidelity to prop Laura back up using all of his cunning and a not insignificant chunk of his wealth and social capital. Coppola pours sweet foam over a bitter cup. The heart of the film is darkness, the exterior exuberance, and taken together they make for piquant viewing. Felix is a hoot. Laura is a human being. Not once does she acquiesce to his interventions or ask him to take her out for lunch unprompted, but she can’t help getting vacuumed into the whirlwind of his presence. All she really wants to do is climb into bed or maybe the tub.