I was admittedly getting a little worried. For the longest time I was all in on a new Edgar Wright movie. But despite what some think, I thought Baby Driver really disappointed, and he fought his way out of one of the funnier Marvel movies. I wouldn’t say I’m a hater now, just more cautious. Thankfully, Last Night in Soho put some of those fears to rest. It’s not perfect, but the highs of the movie show why Wright can be such an electric filmmaker, and why I get excited when I see “directed by Edgar Wright” in the credits.
Eloise Turner (Thomasin McKenzie), Ellie, lives a quiet old school life in the English countryside with her gran (Rita Tushingham). Literally: Ellie likes old records and old fashion, especially from the 1960s. Dreaming to be a designer, Ellie gets accepted into the London school of fashion, and excitedly moves to the West End, hoping to see that 60s magic that drew her and her mother into London in the first place. Ellie sadly realizes she doesn’t fit in at school, so she rents an apartment from Ms. Collins (Diana Rigg), which helps her discover that 60s London magic she so desperately wants to find. Ellie finds that magic a little too much though, because the minute she moves, she starts having vivid dreams about a 60s woman named Sandy (Anya Taylor-Joy) and her toxic relationship with a man named Jack (Matt Smith).
The first hour or so of Last Night in Soho is Edgar Wright at his most exciting. Last Night in Soho’s biggest challenge is to make Ellie feel like she’s living a real memory that isn’t her own, untethering her from reality. The minute Thomasin McKenzie sees Anya Taylor-Joy as her reflection in the Cafe de Paris, the best of Wright’s visual style and editing elevates the film. In a room filled with mirrors and bodies all over a dance floor, Wright seamlessly weaves McKenzie and Taylor-Joy in and out of frame with one another as they dance their way through their Jack “audition.” That scene is alive, with the camera and characters moving like some sort of dance going on offscreen as well as on. And with everyone dressed to the 9’s the scene is a visual feast that will make you perk up in your chair. In fact, every time Anya Taylor-Joy shows up, an excited feeling bubbles through the audience, as the talented actress gets the Hitchcockian blonde role she was born to play and execute to perfection.
The problem is, Wright well, writes himself into a corner. When you start off with waking nightmare, the only choice is to make the nightmare scarier and scarier to the point that the movie goes off the rails. The final 30 minutes of this movie put poor Thomasin McKenzie through the ringer, having her run in fear of basically everything and everyone. Other than McKenzie/Taylor-Joy, there’s little to no character development as poor Michael Ajao becomes Ellie’s manic pixie dream boy, putting up with increasingly cuckoo for cocoa puffs amounts of her insanity and just being sweet and supportive. Wright tries to escape with a couple twists, but because he’s done so little character development and due to Roger Ebert’s law of economy of characters, you can probably guess what twists will be coming. At least Wright gives it his all, giving us a host of terrific images and a great scare or two. All that work keeps Last Night in Soho from blacking the audience out on too many hallucinogens and eyeball shots.
For a first attempt at a straight horror film, Edgar Wright does a pretty good job. His dynamic direction makes every movie better, so here’s hoping he can tighten up the script next time and make something truly special. Maybe a crossover? Anya Taylor-Joy plays Scott Pilgrim’s evil ex-girlfriend?