Edgar Wright almost pulls off a great film here, doing a fabulous job of creating a film that pays homage to 1960s London, and then stumbling when it comes to delivering on the thrills and horror. It has a stellar cast, including two of the most promising young actresses currently working, and several British acting luminaries who were made famous by the '60s movies that Wright draws his inspiration from. I'm awfully tempted to recommend the film on the strength of its aesthetic pleasures alone.
Thomasin McKenzie stars as Ellie, an aspiring fashion designer who has trouble adjusting when she comes to study in London, and decides to move into a bedsit owned by elderly Mrs. Collins (Diana Rigg). This move seems to trigger Ellie having dreams and visions of an aspiring singer in the 1960s named Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy), who is lead astray by her manager, Jack (Matt Singer). Ellie is haunted by Sandie to the point where it starts affecting her waking life, jeopardizing her new relationship with a fellow student, John (Michael Ajao). Eventually, Ellie believes Sandie was murdered, and her murderer may still be on the loose.
The first act setting up the premise is great, the second act trying to pivot from nostalgia to horror runs into some trouble, and the third act is frankly a little maddening. I want to let the film's deficits slide just on the strength of its considerable aesthetic pleasures, but I've been doing that with way too many of Wright's films lately, and I'm getting worried about him. As you might expect, when the film works, it's a marvel of beautifully reconstructed '60s glamour, a lovingly curated retro soundtrack, and McKenzie and Taylor-Joy effortlessly delivering fun performances. When it doesn't work, it doesn't work in all-too familiar ways. The film is poorly paced, Wright's ability to orchestrate his various conceits falls apart by the ends and is largely abandoned, and the denouement feels weirdly tacked on. In short, these were the exact same problems that plagued "Baby Driver," and to a lesser extent, "The World's End." It's especially frustrating this time, because Wright's got all the right pieces here. The execution just doesn't quite work as intended.
I think a large part of the problem is that Wright is trying to juggle too many balls, as usual. This absolutely should have been a more straightforward psychological thriller instead of a full-on horror film with too many too-clever twists. While I liked the subversive ending, it also royally muddles up some of the messages about the dark side of nostalgia, and how misogynistic and terrible the '60s could be for women. The film's male lead, John, is so woefully underwritten that I was sure that he must have been intended to be a twist villain at some point. If you know the usual tropes of horror films, you can guess who the actual villain is pretty easily - Wright clearly spent a lot of time setting up little hints that make him look very clever upon a second viewing, but I was exasperated enough with his poor handling of his characters that I don't particular feel inclined to take in a second viewing.
However, I still think the film is worth a watch. The first act manages to evoke some real magic in its '60s sequences, and it's great to see Diana Rigg, Rita Tushingham, and Terrence Stamp getting some screentime. Wright is still able to orchestrate some really inventive, stunning visuals, and his use of mirrors and filters and kaleidoscopic compositions is really lovely. Sadly, blending this style with horror seems to be beyond his capabilities, and it doesn't help that there's another British director who has recently done very good work in this space - Peter Strickland.
I wanted to love this movie, and instead I wound up appreciating it in bits and pieces. It's a shame that this didn't do well at the box office, because I want Edgar Wright to keep making original films in the way that only he can. At the same time, it's becoming clear that his films are exercises in style first and foremost. And that would be fine if he weren't so committed to making the kinds of genre films that depend on better scripts than he's giving them. Here's hoping he can course correct before he the audience's goodwill runs dry.
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