From the wonderful punk rock posters to the soundtrack that features the likes of New Order, The Strokes, and Siouxsie and the Banshees, this is a film that tries so very hard to be, above all else, hip. Coming from the director of the iconic Lost in Translation, this shouldn’t be a problem.

The problem is, so much attention has been spent on style that very little has been spent elsewhere. It’s a very slow, very cold, very distant film — lots of sugary pink and blonde — and never really lives up to the promise of the edgy, exciting score. We’re treated to scene after scene of Dunst’s Antoinette having her hair done, having dresses made for her, having endless cakes and pastries delivered to her, and pair of shoes after pair of shoes. These scenes of supposed decedence are interspersed with wistful, tranquil moments as the bored Antoinette potters about the palace of Versailles with nothing to do but exist.

And that’s pretty much it. There’s no context to the decadence as the film is seen almost entirely from the perspective of Antoinette, so although we know that, meanwhile, France was on the brink of revolution, we don’t see any evidence of this until the closing scenes when we’re informed that the Bastille has been stormed and that an angry mob is on the way. Without any context, witnessing the aristocracy genteelly biting into cream cakes every other scene is not shocking, it’s not illicitly thrilling, it’s not even particularly distasteful — though you will come away from the film with a real craving for something savoury.

Perhaps this is the point of the film though; to argue that Antoinette was largely blameless, and that her only real crime against the French was to be ignorant of the value of money and ignorant of what was happening outside in the real world. It is, after all, a biography rather than a historical epic. If this is the case, then Coppola has done well. In fairness to her, there’s a lot of nice touches — you really get a good feel of the gossipy nature of the palace when a large part of what dialogue there is happens off-screen as the camera focuses on Antoinette. You also get a good sense of the tedium of palace life, where the same pointless rituals and procedures happens day in, day out, year after year. It is, by and large, a very subtle film.

But, you don’t learn a great deal about Antoinette; the film glosses over the period between her capture at Versailles and her eventual execution — arguably the most interesting part of her life — in about ten minutes. There’s no historical perspective, there’s no political perspective, and while the film is very pretty, it feels not much more decadent than an episode of Sex and the City. It is not a bad film, but it is a very flawed one.