If you were ever a teenage girl and watched Marie Antoinette (2006), you would remember the moment your shoulders started to dance when Bow Wow’s “I Want Candy” came on, followed by an onslaught of colorful shoes, decadent cakes, and girly joy. Pointing at the screen when you caught a glimpse of the lilac Converse high-tops among the Manolos. Somehow, a shopping experience of the 1700s French royalty feels relatable to a normal girl who shops at Forever 21.
There is something quite satisfying about seeing a movie pull off this artistic paradox. The old and the new, the traditional and the unconventional, are melding together in a way that shouldn’t work, but does. It’s like seeing people eating vanilla ice cream with olive oil before trying it for yourself: the initial cognitive dissonance, the ensuing delight.
Sofia Coppola’s now-cult classic was initially criticized for being “style over substance,” as it chose to forgo historical accuracy. But as soon as the opening credits and Gang of Four’s post-punk “Natural’s Not In It” starts to play, you know she never meant for this movie to be a historical and political dissection of Marie Antoinette’s life and reign as queen. Much like Coppola’s auteurship, Marie Antoinette is an exploration of a young girl’s inner world, whose life was upended when thrust into a world of responsibilities, opulence, and loneliness—a coming-of-age story. No offence to the critics sat at the Cannes premiere, but you simply don’t get it.
Every time you hear the new wave or 2000s indie songs start to crescendo, you feel that familiar youthful spirit—something confusing, yet exciting—crawl up your spine. Even if you don’t know the song, you know the feeling. On her birthday, Marie (Kirsten Dunst) and her friends frolic around the garden, watching a sunrise with a bottle of champagne in hand, set to New Order’s “Ceremony.” Tell me you’ve never felt that contentment after a night out with your friends, seeing the new day with a reserved enthusiasm, not yet ready to let the moment go. Or when she runs off to her room through the halls of Versailles, having just been dismissed from her duties, The Strokes’s “What Ever Happened?” accompanies her every excited step. Your heart immediately picks up a little bit at the familiar feeling of freedom when you’re finally left to your own devices, a rush in your blood when you let your mind fantasize about your crush.
This use of anachronism doesn’t evoke feelings of sympathy, but of empathy. You get a better understanding of Marie’s interior. The choice of genre adds a rebellious energy to the movie, while enhancing the dreamy visuals, making Coppola’s portrayal of teenage girlhood feel timeless.
In a similar vein, A Knight’s Tale (2001) uses modern music to invite the audience into the story. However, unlike Marie Antoinette, which helps us understand the protagonist’s interior, the A Knight’s Tale soundtrack helps us understand the protagonist’s exterior world. William Thatcher (Heath Ledger) is a squire who faked his identity as a knight to compete in the jousting tournaments. The use of 70s and 80s pop and rock songs feels unpretentious, a way for us to feel affinity and root for the people. Its anachronistic soundtrack also set the tone of the movie immediately.
A Knight’s Tale opens with a diegetic Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” the commoners clapping and singing along to the 70s rock hit. We were told to get psyched and get down with the ruling class. This opening scene boldly rejects any allegations of a boring 14th-century period piece and instead foreshadows its standing as a feel-good movie. During a jousting practice sequence filled with slapstick humor and the unbounded hunger of a newcomer, War’s “Low Rider” provided a bouncy energy with a dash of comedy. But a standout for me is the dance scene. What started as a timid show of noble cordiality set to medieval music soon morphed into a high-spirited disco frenzy as David Bowie’s “Golden Years” started to play. This movie almost got me with its medieval party propaganda.
2001 was a ripe year for anachronistic soundtracks because Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge also came out. The movie was an absolute fever dream, with Luhrmann’s signature fast cuts and in-your-face visuals paired with the theatrical performances of pop bangers and tearful ballads. Following the story of an English writer, Christian (Ewan McGregor), who moves to the Bohemian quarter in Paris and falls in love with a cabaret performer, Satine (Nicole Kidman), the modern music in this movie serves as a shortcut to what the characters are experiencing and feeling. Luhrmann’s use of pop songs allowed him to amplify the hedonism of Moulin Rouge and reinforced his auteurship.
The first performance at the Moulin Rouge was a grandiose mash-up performance of Christina Aguilera’s “Lady Marmalade,” Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” and Kidman’s rendition of “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” originally performed by Marilyn Monroe. It was headspinningly, overwhelmingly delicious. The second Nicole Kidman came out with a top hat, I was gagged. Her icon status immediately became clear to the audience. And let’s not forget when a green Tinkerbell played by Kylie Minogue sang “The Hills Are Alive.” It really felt like an absinthe-induced hallucination, and I was there among the drunk artists gazing at the Paris skyline.
Compared to Marie Antoinette and A Knight’s Tale, the anachronisms in Moulin Rouge aren’t as obvious. Because the modern songs are arranged and performed in a burlesque style, they blend in more easily; the soundtrack enhances the story with less push-and-pull in the brain.
Romeo + Juliet (1996) is a more obviously anachronistic movie from Luhrmann. Set in the Southern California-esque “Verona Beach” in the 90s, the movie retells the tragedy of the star-crossed lovers. I remember being shook when the three bald men in the convertible started speaking in Shakespearean language. The original dialogues, the meld of grandiose orchestral score and pop/rock music, and the stylish ’90s costume design made for a campy, stressful delight. Our introduction to Mercutio (Harold Perrineau) was him pulling up in his red convertible in drag, gun holstered on his side, singing along to Kym Mazelle’s disco rendition of “Young Hearts Run Free.” Not to mention the heartwrenching “Kissing You” by Des’ree, played twice in juxtaposing scenes: their first meeting, full of hope and wonder, and when he’s hurt, tender and sorrowful. “Lovefool” by The Cardigans plays in the background as we see a smitten Romeo (Leonardo DiCaprio). Luhrmann really took Shakespeare and put him to work at the boots factory, because he really slayed the house down with this one.
I’m not a Shakespeare girlie nor am I a tragic star-crossed lovers enthusiast, but I’m going to mention one other Romeo & Juliet retelling. Well, more of a spin-off. Rosaline (2022) tells the story of Rosaline (Kaitlyn Dever), Romeo’s (Kyle Allen) lover before he left her for Juliet. It’s a romcom starring a rebellious and sarcastic heroine who turns out to actually have a good heart. The use of anachronisms in this retelling is the opposite of Romeo + Juliet, apart from the soundtrack. Romeo + Juliet have a modern costume design and setting, while using Shakespearean language; on the other hand, Rosaline uses period-appropriate costumes and settings, while using modern language and humor.
Rosaline’s soundtrack is a mix of modern orchestral score and classical renditions of pop songs used diegetically. Romeo walks into a party serenaded by an orchestral rendition of “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn, very Bridgerton and Bardcore. In the throes of heartbreak from finding out Romeo has left her for Juliet, Rosaline woke up to a violinist playing “All By Myself,” lending comic relief to the situation. The use of anachronistic soundtrack fits the need of the movie as it’s already a 180 on the original story and tone, but in hindsight, is not as impactful as other movies mentioned. But still worth a watch if you enjoy watching Dever be a difficult teenager and a menace to men.
These are not the first movies to break the anachronistic mold, nor will they be the last. Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is coming out next year, featuring a soundtrack by Charli xcx. The teasers stirred Twitter for a minute, people arguing over the anachronisms in costume design and dialogue. With its original text deemed sacred in the literary world and the protagonist widely interpreted as a person of color, this anachronistic adaptation raises concerns until proven worthy.
Movies with anachronistic soundtracks always leave me with a refreshed feeling. It’s a nice break from the mundanity of life to witness the talents and minds of these directors translated into works that make you pause and think about the world differently. You walk into the theater (open your laptop), one person, and walk out (close your laptop), a different person. This is the only thing I want to confuse my brain with.
