'Last Night in Soho' is a ghost story that needs fewer ghosts | TIFF movie review

In Last Night in Soho, an aspiring fashion designer escapes her drab London life by transporting by to the 1960s and inhabiting an aspiring singer. But eventually dreams become nightmares.

Edgar Wright is anything but subtle in his filmmaking and storytelling. When asked, “how much?” he answers with a resounding, “yes!” — and that’s typically for the better and worse with his films. He’s a lover of the cinematic form. That’s evident in all of his movies. However, it’s often at the expense of his storytelling. And that is the case with his latest crime mystery psychological horror ghost story *takes breath* Last Night in Soho, which played at the 2021 Toronto Film Festival.

That long list of descriptors is why it does and does not work. It tries to chase down too many threads — pun intended. Though, the thread that holds it all together is Eloise Turner (Thomasin McKenzie proving yet again that she’s a force to be reckoned with), a young aspiring fashion designer who gets the chance to chase her dream when she’s accepted to the London School of Fashion.

Eloise, who is from a remote English town, is excited to go to London to not only find a bigger space for herself but to follow the footsteps of her late mother — who she just so happens to see once in a while. Eloise has a sixth sense, if you will, that makes her more connected to those that have passed. There isn’t much explanation of the phenomenon, so you just have to go with it.

When she arrives, her nightmare roommate makes it impossible for her to live in the student dorms. Instead, she finds a room to rent in an old house in Soho owned by Miss Collins (Diana Rigg) and her life seems like it’s about to fall into place — until she goes to sleep. Her first night sleeping there, she suddenly finds herself transported back to the 1960s. However, she’s not herself. She inhabits the body of a young woman named Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy) as she breezes into a nightclub with the intention of being a star. And Taylor-Joy performance convinces us that she is going to be.

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The way the camera sweeps between the two actresses is Wright at his finest. Eloise in her gray pajamas stares into a mirror where Sandie, in her flowing unstructured pink dress, stares back. Suddenly with a sweep of the camera they’ve switched places. Later on, as Sandie twirls on the dance floor with a music manager (Matt Smith) who promises to make her a star, she suddenly switches to Eloise. Another move and it’s Sandie again.

Those first few scenes of Eloise romping through the 60s are glorious in their visuals — the production design and costumes only amplify the kinetic energy — and help move the story forward at a breakneck pace — until it doesn’t. The problem I often have with Wright is those hyper-stylized visuals and frenetic editing eventually get in the way of the story. Like he’s thinking of stories in the context of how he’s going to present them.

Eventually, those visions of Sandie and the 60s turn from an escape to an inescapable living nightmare as it bleeds into Eloise’s reality. And with that turn, it feels like Last Night in Soho jumps the shark. Jump scares pervade the horror and Eloise, our relatable outcast heroine never quite returns to form as the ghosts take their toll on her.

In addition to the ghost story, there’s a murder mystery that begins to take form. However, like the apparitions that haunt the streets of Soho, your interest in it is often fleeting. And to the film’s detriment, the entire third act, which is genuinely thrilling and unfolds stunningly, hinges on your investment in it.

As an experiment in the cinematic form, Last Night in Soho doesn’t disappoint and fans of Wright will likely be able to overlook its weaker elements to find satisfaction in the film. Even those that aren’t can revel in the film’s visuals, energy, and standout performances by Thomasin McKenzie and Anya Taylor-Joy. But in the canon of Wright’s career, Last Night in Solo feels minor.

More movies, less problems

Hey! I’m Karl. You can find me on Twitter here. I’m also a Tomatometer-approved critic.

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Karl Delossantos

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Hey, I'm Karl, founder and film critic at Smash Cut. I started Smash Cut in 2014 to share my love of movies and give a perspective I haven't yet seen represented. I'm also an editor at The New York Times, a Rotten Tomatoes-approved critic, and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.