Last Night In Soho

REVIEW:

Edgar Wright is proving himself to be a remarkably versatile director, having already showcased his prowess with The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End) and the kinetic thrill ride that is Baby Driver. Known for seamlessly blending comedy and action with distinct visual flair, Wright ventures into the realm of psychological horror with Last Night in Soho. While not as polished as some of his earlier works, this film stands as a visually striking exploration of ambition, nostalgia, and the dark side of dreams.

Co-written by Edgar Wright and Krysty Wilson-Cairns, who previously co-wrote the acclaimed war drama 1917, the narrative attempts to balance its dazzling style with substance. The story follows Eloise (Thomasin McKenzie), a young, wide-eyed aspiring fashion designer who moves to London to attend the prestigious London College of Fashion. Eloise rents a quaint bedsit from Ms. Collins, played by the late Diana Rigg in her final performance. However, her seemingly ordinary life takes a haunting turn as she begins experiencing vivid dreams of 1960s Soho, where she witnesses the glamorous but tragic life of Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy), a hopeful singer turned victim of exploitation and violence.

The film’s first act is undeniably engrossing, with Wright skilfully immersing the audience in Eloise’s enchanting yet eerie dream sequences. These sequences are where Wright’s technical brilliance truly shines, blending surreal transitions, stunning choreography, and a hypnotic soundtrack that vividly brings the 1960s back to life. Each dream adds layers to Sandie’s tragic tale, and Wright’s ability to maintain the intrigue during these moments is commendable. However, the pacing falters in the second half, as the narrative struggles to maintain its grip, leaning heavily on genre clichés and rushing to tie up its twists.

Where Last Night in Soho undeniably succeeds is in its recreation of 1960s London. From the neon-soaked streets to the meticulously designed costumes, every detail feels lovingly crafted to evoke the allure of the era while also highlighting its darker undercurrents. The dazzling aesthetic serves as a character in its own right, immersing viewers in a world that feels as haunting as it does beautiful. Wright’s knack for visual storytelling is front and centre, with seamless editing and clever camera tricks that blur the lines between dream and reality.

The cast is another highlight, with Thomasin McKenzie delivering a compelling performance as the vulnerable yet determined Eloise. Anya Taylor-Joy exudes charisma and fragility as Sandie, making her descent into darkness all the more affecting. Matt Smith is suitably menacing as Jack, the charming yet sinister figure who lures Sandie into Soho’s seedy underbelly. The late Diana Rigg also leaves an indelible impression in her final role, bringing gravitas to the enigmatic Ms. Collins. Together, the ensemble grounds the film’s surreal elements with genuine emotion.

Despite its narrative shortcomings, Last Night in Soho is a testament to Wright’s growth as a filmmaker. His ability to tackle a new genre while retaining his signature style is impressive, and the film’s technical achievements and strong performances overshadow its flaws. However, one can’t help but wish that the story had been tightened to better match the brilliance of its visuals and cast.

In the end, Last Night in Soho is a film of contrasts – a feast for the eyes that stumbles in its storytelling. It’s not Wright’s finest work, but it’s a bold, ambitious project that shows his ability to create films that leave a lasting impression. For all its imperfections, it’s a haunting, visually stunning experience that lingers in the mind, even as its narrative fades.