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.
On its surface, The Bling Ring sounds like a wild, juicy heist movie. Based on a true story, it follows a group of fame-obsessed Los Angeles teenagers who robbed the homes of Paris Hilton, Orlando Bloom, and other celebrities, stealing over $3 million in cash and designer goods. The Bling Ring
The Bling Ring works best as a time capsule of the early 2010s—a pre-“influencer” era when fame felt both impossible and just a burglar’s crawl away. It’s not thrilling, and it’s not emotionally wrenching. It’s a glittering, hollow mirror held up to a glittering, hollow culture. The film opens with a key sequence: our
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. On its surface, The Bling Ring sounds like
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.”