“Isn’t that what you were humming?”
“I was?” He might have been, as Peter was reading.
“Playground Love, right?”
“The boy knows his French electronica.”
“And his Sofia Coppola,” he says with a disarming smile, “wasn’t she scheduled to do a movie about you at some time?”
“She might have been.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Sofia Coppola movie?”
“And Air album.”
“I would go with Premiers Symptômes and… Somewhere?”
“Really?” Peter finds his choices intriguing.
“Which one?” Uly asks.
“Somewhere. I find it boring. It’s Marie Antoinette for me.”
“The boy likes his French baroque.”
“I do. And Kirsten Dunst, I mean… She’s perfect in that Sofia Coppola way, always seeming detached, always making you guess what rivers run deep inside her.”
“In my mind, there is a connection between that album and that film.”
“So many years apart?”
“Time is of no importance. Very different things can connect over time. Take Coppola’s Versailles. And didn’t Air do music to a Meliès film? I can imagine Premiers Symptômes as a soundtrack to Somewhere, a soundtrack even before there is a movie. All that too-bright permanent-summer Los Angeles light drenched in their sound… Le soleil est près de moi. It could be I’m thinking of a different movie.”
“Don’t you like Phoenix?”
“I do, yet… Air would have made it a smoother film, more… dreamy, I guess. I always liked these unexpected connections. In that same album, there’s a tune called Casanova 70. It’s a Fellini film from thirty years before. I mean, who cares if things are simultaneous in time and space? In our minds time and space are what we make of them.” Peter seems genuinely interested in what he’s saying. “And Elle Fanning is…”
“She’s a young Kirsten! Right?” the boy interrupts excitedly.
“Perhaps. Could be. It’s a contemplative movie, I love that. It gives you time to stare and wonder and wander and... Premiers Symptômes was a Gainsbourg song. Well not a song exactly, a short spoken piece.”
“Do you think there’s a connection?”