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Sofia Coppola, one of the most visible indie directors in recent years, is clearly embedded in the ‘commerce of auteurism’ (Corrigan 1991), as she actively participates in constructing her public image. Building on existing scholarship on the filmmaker as illustrative of the new critical paradigm in studies of women’s film authorship, the first section of this chapter looks at the promotional and critical discourses surrounding her films to trace the various processes of authentication and de-authentication of Coppola as an auteur (family connections, the privileged position in the American film industry, her filmmaking style marked by a focus on flat affects and the mise-en-scène’s surface details, as well as her interest in postfeminist/neoliberal femininity which has divided critics, especially with her 2013 feature film, The Bling Ring). In the exploration of Coppola’s authorial status, the chapter sheds light on the issue of genre, arguing that her engagement with familiar conventions is far more complex than current analysis of her work has acknowledged. This is particularly evident in the case of Marie Antoinette (2006), a film which has been read variably as a costume drama and/or as a historical biopic. In establishing a dialogical relationship between biopic and costume drama scholarship, the chapter centres on self-conscious devices deployed in Coppola’s film, which are mobilised not against but through a logic of a feminised consumerist culture. The aim is not to reject the supposed ‘feminising’ aspects of the costume drama or to masculinise them in framing the film as a ‘self-conscious’ biopic, but rather to investigate the gender anxieties that underlay the labelling of genres by film criticism.

This chapter focalises on Nancy Meyers, arguably the most successful woman filmmaker of all time. It shows how Meyers’s carefully composed mise-en-scène and the portrayal of privileged women protagonists contribute to a critical alignment between the director and her films, and at the same time how they are used to demonstrate Meyers’s lack of credibility as an auteur (a reading strategy which often impacts other women directors, such as Sofia Coppola, as analysed in Ch. 5). This analysis is framed within the broader discussions of auteurism, the generic conventions of the romcom and the so-called feminisation of mass culture (Husseyn 1986, Hollows 2005), as well as the cultural, critical and industrial gendering of genres. The remainder of the chapter offers an examination of The Intern (2015). The film has been dubbed as ‘a romantic comedy without the romance’, and it indeed draws on several of its generic conventions: romance’s narrative stages, the presence of the ‘wrong partner’, the sense of ‘belonging together’, and bromantic elements which allow for a rethinking of the gendering of genres. The detailed analysis of the film reveals Meyers’s self-reflexive strategies – rich discursive histories engendered by the presence of stars Robert De Niro and Anne Hathaway, among others – that invoke issues of central importance in this book: the question of female authorship in a male-dominated film industry, and the heritage and evolution of genre in the Hollywood context.