Myths know no frontiers. The Elvis legend far outsteps the bling and kitsch of Graceland, in Memphis Tennessee. In fact, it is just as alive on the other side of the Atlantic, in Porthcawl, a small town in South Wales that each year in September holds a festival in honour of the King. The Elvis fans in Tennessee and Wales bear an uncanny resemblance to each other, double-chinned clones of their idol with his trademark slicked-back quiff, all laying claim to the fat belly and charisma of the parvenu idol. With their petrol-blue shirts and billowing skirts, Elvis and Priscilla doubles act out the same sweet dream, one of fame, glory and immortality. Clémentine Schneidermann’s images give few hints as to which side of the Atlantic we are on. The photographs are located between fiction and document and reveal the faded charm of Planet Elvis, inhabited by sad faces bearing the hard-worn marks of experience and yet these people invent radiant destinies for themselves, far beyond life’s misfortunes and its day-to-day struggles.