I've said it before and I'm saying it again: Edgar Wright can't write. Without a good co-writer or source material, he makes lackluster unfocused films. This first revealed itself with Baby Driver and is confirmed by Last Night In Soho, which was a box office flop and even Wright's fans rank in the basement.
Thomasin McKenzie (Old, Jojo Rabbit) stars as Ellie, a quiet girl from a small English town who is obsessed with Sixties pop culture and dreams of being a fashion designer; a dream which may come true when she's accepted to a London design school. Not used to life in the big city and feeling out of place amongst the partying and her screwing mean girl roommate, she immediately decamps from the dorms to a bedroom rented out by an old woman, Ms. Collins (Diana Rigg, in her final performance).
The first night there, when she goes to sleep she dreams she is transported back to 1965 and watches a glamorous young woman named Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy, The Queen's Gambit and seemingly everything these days) as she seeks to become a singer. She makes the acquaintance of Jack (Matt Smith, Doctor Who) who gets her an audition at another club.
Inspired by Sandie, Ellie bleaches her hair blonde and begins to recreate the dress she saw Sandie wearing and begins to buy vintage clothes to ape her style. But as she continues time-traveling in her dreams she discovers Sandie's life isn't the high-living fantasy that it initially seemed. Then there's the problem of all the terrifying apparitions that are appearing to her in her waking hours, causing her to appear to be losing her mind to her classmates. And what's the deal with the creepy old man played by Terrance Stamp (the OG General Zod in Superman II) who is so obviously not the threat the movie tries to make us think he is?
What the trailers for Last Night In Soho hid was the ghost story angle of the plot, which made it an unexpected pleasant surprise for my horror fan girlfriend who loved it (9/10 score). But my problem wasn't the tonal switcheroo, but the unclear perspective in the way Wright tells his story. Is Ellie becoming Sandie or merely observing her? That first night Sandie makes out with Jack and he gives her a hickey and Ellie has the same hickey, but other times Ellie is clearly watching from the crowd what happens to Sandie, though there are many shots of them seeing each other in the mirror or them swapping places in scenes. And while Taylor-Joy is the current hot young thang and brings her otherwordly beauty (meaning she looks like an alien with those wide-set eyes), she is woefully miscast for the purpose she serves in the plot. (Not saying she's bad, but to explain why would spoil the ending.)
Despite slick visuals and solid performances all around, Last Night In Soho doesn't work because there is so little to work with as far as the characters. All we know about Ellie is that her mother killed herself when she was young, she was raised by her grandma, she's hung up on Sixties tunes and fashion, and she's shy. Her confidence and designs are copies of Sandie, not development of her own talents. As the specters close in, she's reacting, not attacking. And Sandie is just a MacGuffin, not a person. Her hopes and dreams are limited and her fate is merely witnessed.
Wright co-wrote the screenplay with Krysty Wilson-Cairns (mysteriously Oscar-nominated for 1917 which wasn't much of a character piece either) and she's no Simon Pegg either. The whole purpose of the movie was to scratch Wright's itch to recreate 1965 London and play cool old tunes including the original version of Naked Eye's "Always Something There To Remind Me," not so much to tell a compelling or interesting story.
The 4K HDR image wasn't called upon much, but when the wet neon-soaked streets are featured, it provides a nice pop in you've got the home theater for it.
Score: 4/10. Catch it on cable, barely. (Currently on HBO Max)
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