Director Report Card: Edgar Wright (2021) - Part Two

8. Last Night in Soho

It's fair to say that, with those first four features, Edgar Wright became one of my favorite filmmakers. He became a lot of people's favorite filmmaker. Through his DVD special features and interview and commentaries, it became obvious that Wright is overflowing with a love and knowledge for film. Especially horror, which is probably why "Shaun of the Dead" and parts of "Hot Fuzz" were such loving homages to the genre. When it was announced that he would be returning to the horror genre, but leaving the jokes behind, it was a pretty exciting proposition. I was so excited for "Last Night in Soho" that it made my yearly list of most anticipated titles twice. Well, now I have seen what seems to be the most divisive film of Wright's career so far. 

When Eloise is accepted to the London College of Fashion, it is a dream come true for her. After the suicide of her mother when she was young, Ellie was raised by her grandmother, who regaled her with stories of London in the Swinging Sixties. This has left the girl with a fascination for the long-gone decade. After Ellie — who has latent psychic powers — moves into an apartment in Soho, she begins to dream of the sixties. Of a girl named Sandie who moved to the city in hopes of becoming a singer. And as Ellie's visions bleed into her waking hours, she realizes that Sandie was real... And that her dreams quickly became a nightmare too. 

"Last Night in Soho" is, basically, the horror vision of "Midnight in Paris." Many of the director's previous films dealt with emotionally stunted man-boys while paying homage to time periods they actually lived through, via genres like 80s buddy cop movies or retro-gaming culture. This film, on the other hand, concerns someone who is nostalgic for a decade they never experienced. Ellie has an idealized vision of London in the sixties, only knowing it though the pop songs and movies of the time. Through her dreams of Sandie, she quickly learns a hard truth: That the past wasn't all it was cracked up to be and that 1960s London had a real dark side. And so "Last Night in Soho" gets at the rotten heart of nostalgia, that it's longing for a time that never really existed and is, just as often, a tool to cover up the ugly realities people would rather forget. 

From the minute it was announced, "Last Night in Soho" was said to be influenced by Polanski's Apartment Trilogy. Considering the movie is set in a sketchy apartment and concerns a young woman possibly losing her mind, this is still evident in the final film. The climax even features male hands bursting though floorboards and walls, a likely nod at "Repulsion." Yet the movie seems to be influenced a little more by another type of horror movie with its roots in the sixties. The vibrant colors immediately bring the Gialli of Dario Argento and Mario Bava to mind. The premise of a psychic young woman trying to resolve a murder mystery brings with it hints of Fulci's "The Psychic" and a dozen other movies. The film's twisting story and dream-like touches also were obviously inspired by those Italian murder mysteries. There's no black gloves or straight razors but the connection is still readily apparent. Considering horror nerd directors talk all the time about the influence the giallo genre has on them, it's nice that someone finally just made a new one.

And like a lot of classic giallo, "Last Night in Soho" can't successfully catch all the balls it throws up in the air. The movie is quite compelling for its first hour or so. You're sucked into the mystery, as Ellie's visions take on increasingly disturbing qualities and she becomes determined to uncover what happened to Sandie. Like any good sleuthing story, you wonder yourself how things played out. And then one of the film's creepiest suspects, a predatory old man at the bar Ellie works at, is bluntly removed from the story. From there, "Last Night in Soho" unfurls a series of increasingly underwhelming reveals. This is one of those mysteries we're thinking about the possibilities of what happened are a lot more fun than the actual answers the filmmaker cooked up. 

Despite continuing to expand the limits of his narrative style, “Last Night in Soho” is still undeniably an Edgar Wright joint. “Baby Driver” definitely seems to have set a precedence for the director. This film is also full of elaborately choreographed sequence set to specially selected needle drops, some of which are literally dance numbers. Such as an on-stage burlesque number set to Sandie Shaw's “Puppet on a String” or a Halloween party dance synched with Siouxie and the Banshee's “Happy House.” (The sole song on the soundtrack that isn't from the sixties.) While there's nothing as complex as the various chase scenes from "Baby Driver," this one does feature some impressive tracking shots. Such as a nightmarish tracking shot where Sandie – and, by extension, Ellie – is exposed to all the sketchy shit that goes on back-stage at this dance club.

There's no doubt that “Last Night in Soho” looks gorgeous in general. The production design is phenomenal, making every location in the film feel like a character onto itself. The glitzy club Sandie first approaches, and the incredibly sleazy one she eventually ends up in, have two very distinct moods. Even Ellie's apartment, the central location, is able to feel like two different things – either an inviting, cozy new home or a foreboding, isolated place – depending on where in the film you are. The gorgeous use of color frequently helps this along. Befitting a story set in a fashion school, the costumes are beautiful. There's a lot in “Last Night in Soho's” favor.

Yet there's a big problem with the movie. And it's an especially disappointing one, considering the obvious enthusiasm Edgar Wright has for the horror genre: “Last Night in Soho” is never scary. In fact, it's attempts to be frightening are pretty lukewarm. Ellie's increasingly disturbing nighttime visions begin to leak into her daylight hours. This eventually manifests as male figures with melted, blurry faces appearing to her. The CGI used to create this effect is underwhelming and it's not the only example of unimpressive digital effects here. More than once, the film even utilizes these ghostly figures in service of big, loud jump scares. There's not much in the way of the shock or atmosphere that Wright's obvious inspiration utilized. “Last Night in Soho” is shockingly limp as a horror movie.

This is not the only thing about the movie that is really disappointing. The climax of the story features a big twist, a reveal that turns what the audience was expecting – and even what the movie previously showed us – on its head. The trouble with this is that it muddles the movie's thematic waters. The depictions of physical and sexual violence against women here are intense. The new information we're given in the last third sheds a new light on these past events, one that casts victimizers as victims and vice versa. Yet the movie wants to have its cake and eat it too, with a half-assed line that amounts to nothing but convictionless finger-pointing dropped into the middle of its fiery climax. A woman, Krysty Wilson-Cairns, co-write the script. Yet, when combined with the thin-as-cardboard love interest in “Baby Driver” and Ramona Flowers as an idealized fantasy in “Scott Pilgrim,” I'm really beginning to wonder if Edgar Wright knows how to write female characters at all. 

It's not just the narrative that takes a hopelessly awkward approach to the story's women. Ellie isn't a bad protagonist. Thomasin Makenzie is certainly more than capable of projecting an aura of wide-eyed naivety. When that inevitably gets chipped away, Makenzie does an admirable job of showing Ellie's sanity cracking up too. Yet the writing lets her down.  Early on, the film presents the idea of Ellie's mom having died when she was young. How she's literally haunted by this, as she sees her mom's ghost sometimes. This plot point never really comes up much outside the first half-hour. “Last Night in Soho” hardly seems to be committing on trauma or grief. It leaves us with a protagonist whose character arc feels incomplete.

In fact, both of the film's stars are not given nearly enough to work on a writing level. Sandie is, in many ways, the central figure of the movie. In the early scenes, where Anya Taylor-Joy gets to play the character as a vivacious, beautiful young woman with talent and confidence, ready to become a star, she makes an impression. As Sandie's situation grows more grave, Taylor-Joy blends into the scenario more and more. The truth is, Sandie never really comes to life as a character. She's more an idea than a fully fleshed-out person. She's trapped in the past and the film keeps her distant from us too. 

As a further homage to its London in the Swinging Sixties setting, the film's supporting cast is filled with stars from that era. Terence Stamp plays the aforementioned creepy guy in the bar, doing a little with a lot and managing to summon a fair bit of malevolent energy in his few scenes. Diane Riggs, in her last role before her death, gets a couple of key moments to herself, as the woman Ellie rents a room from. Riggs proves she was just as dynamic a screen presence at the end of her life as she was in her prime. As for the younger cast, Matt Smith is well utilized as the man who seduces Sandie before making her life a living life, being effectively charming in early scenes and equally brutish in later ones. 

By the way, the title is taken from a Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich song. This was suggested by, naturally, super-fan of the group Quentin Tarantino. It plays over the end credits, over a montage of photos of London streets from the sixties and from the modern day, when they were abandoned during the initial COVID-19 lockdown. This is only the most direct influence the pandemic had on “Last Night in Soho.” Like a lot of high-profile titles that got long delays due to the closure of theaters, this film probably would've played better without an additional year of hype behind it. I would put myself in the “liked it, didn't love it” column for this one. Wonderfully assembled in some regards, it's also incredibly flawed in other ways. The result is a sometimes enchanting movie that can't nail the landing. [Grade: B-]