Last Night in Soho

I like Edgar Wright, but the more serious he gets, the more I have a problem with it. So I'll always prefer Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz to the shallow and over-stylized Baby Driver. And now over Last Night in Soho. His new release reminded me of Guillermo del Toro's Crimson Peak, a horror film that was great in every way, audiovisually and genre-wise. Only that with this one, I felt like the director was fulfilling a dream of his, paying homage to a favorite genre, a favorite era, and a favorite form. And does it brilliantly, as if he had made the whole thing for himself rather than anyone else. On the other hand, Wright's play with color, the great soundtrack, the gorgeous costumes, and his typical audiovisual games from time to time still work great. And Thomasin McKenzie is excellent, with Anya Taylor-Joy not far from her, but it's not enough. With Last Night in Soho Wright makes mostly himself happy, which I wish him well, but I won't applaud him for it. (03/11/2021)

Edgar Wright has made a kind of antithesis to the idealized utopia of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. He has created a movie for all those people who have their heads in the clouds, and who like to dream about how they would have lived in a different ("better") time. However, every period in the past had its advantages and disadvantages. Last Night in Soho is a horror movie for fans of imaginative visuals and knowing winks combined with modern trends, even though it is doubtful you are going to be terrified by it. Anyway, I found it quite enjoyable and I enjoy replaying it in my head. (02/11/2021)

With Scott Pilgrim I considered it part of the game, with Baby Driver I couldn't put my finger on it, and with Last Night in Soho it started to get downright annoying. It's that musical staginess drenched in studio lights, its artificiality accelerated by a digital camera with a high frame rate. If it's worked so far in Wright's previous films, it's because they were kind of musicals in the first place, except that Last Night in Soho has its entire plot built on trying to evoke the spirit of the Swingin' London era, and in this case you can have a wardrobe full of period dresses and tons of period props strewn about the studio, but it's still a totally obvious crying game. Logically, then, what works is one great dance sequence and the amazing Thomasin McKenzie, what doesn't work is, eh, well... the rest of the film. And Matt Smith doesn’t know how to inhale. I appreciate the very original twist that the main monster is actually the patriarchy, which I saw six times in genre films last year alone. (09/02/2022)

A thoroughly intoxicating experience that drew me in like few films manage to do. After 14 years, Edgar Wright has made a film that I have nothing to reproach, and above all, the way he made it is breathtaking. Amazing visuals to the rhythm of superbly chosen music, clouds of directorial ideas, a clever (perhaps just a little too literal at the end) screenplay and a fantastic cast, of which Anya Taylor-Joy stands out, but Thomasin McKenzie keeps on her heels with his transformation until he eventually is on par with her, and Matt Smith is, as always, a great choice. I look forward to experiencing it all again. (26/11/2021)

One sort of expects form over substance from Wright, especially in a film that wets both feet in the waters of Giallo, Lynch and the 1960s. Maybe I wouldn't have expected such a big split between the exquisite form and the empty content, but whatever. The hauntingly enchanting hallucinatory atmosphere makes up for a lot of it, likewise with Wright in some places of the first half, which although it's not without its hiccups, it definitely has something (and especially someone) to build on. Unfortunately, though, Wright decided to start grafting some content in the second half and ruined everything, especially during the final 20 minutes, which are unintentionally ridiculous. What is most fascinating about the whole shattering finale is that even the otherwise top-notch form betrays him during it. (03/11/2021)