Last Night in Soho

Last Night in Soho ★★★★

I guess I like this more than basically anyone I know or follow. And look, I get it. Some of the places this goes at the end turn out to be, at best, thematically muddled, because Wright doesn’t have the emotional/cultural sensitivity to pull them off. Michael Ajao’s character proves that Wright can underwrite love interests of ALL genders. And I could entertain arguments it should be shorter. 

But c’mon. Edgar Wright is one of the very best visual storytellers, maybe ever. He has best-in-the-business needle drops, and even if you don’t like where the movie goes, you can admire the careful craft that got us there. I was talking to my buddy Stu about it after the movie (he was more lukewarm than me), and I think I put my finger on it with this — the climactic revelations, and the way they muddy or slightly bungle the emotions of the movie is only fatal if you’re looking at the movie as making any sort of coherent societal statement. However, if you look at it as a giallo homage above all else, then the ending is entirely appropriate and of a piece. And though I have felt emotional about Wright’s movies before (mostly The World’s End), I didn’t walk into this movie expecting anything more than a highly skilled, clever, beautiful looking, genre riff, and that’s totally what I got.