Rian Johnson reminded me how much I miss well-crafted murder mysteries.
Consider a few classics: Sleuth, The Last of Sheila, Deathtrap, Gosford Park and The Usual Suspects. Each is a blend of twisty plotting and mildly snarky attitude.
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| Tech billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton, center) and several of his guests — from left, Claire (Kathryn Hahn), Whiskey (Madelyn Cline), Lionel (Leslie Odom Jr.) and Birdie (Kate Hudson) — are quite surprised by the identity of their gathering's newest arrival. |
We all wondered, when Craig’s second outing as sharp-eyed sleuth Benoit Blanc neared arrival, if Johnson could pull it off a second time. So many filmmakers have run afoul of the sophomore curse.
Well, not this one.
Glass Onion is just as clever — and engaging — as its predecessor. Although driven by a tantalizing whodunit and whydunit, those features almost take second place to the fact that this film is pure fun. At a time when numerous recent releases have run far too long in the hands of self-indulgent directors, this one earns its 139 minutes. Goodness, I wanted it to keep going.
Johnson’s fondness for the genre is obvious, and his new film is a loving — and cheekily updated — riff on Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.
The story begins as identical, elaborately carved wooden boxes are delivered to scientist Lionel Toussaint (Leslie Odom Jr.), Connecticut Gov. Claire Debella (Kathryn Hahn), fashion designer Birdie Jay (Kate Hudson) and macho streaming celebrity Duke Cody (Dave Bautista). Editor Bob Ducsay’s sleek split-screen montage reflects the fact that these are (of course!) large puzzle boxes, which the quartet ultimately solves via phone collaboration.
Inside: an invitation to a murder mystery weekend hosted by longtime friend and tech billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton), at his private island in Greece. His estate’s stand-out feature: a massive, glass-enclosed conservatory shaped like an onion.
Elsewhere, the recipient of a fifth box extracts her invitation via hilarious old-school methodology. (Whatever works, right?) She turns out to be Cassandra “Andi” Brand (Janelle Monáe), co-founder and former CEO of Bron’s tech company Alpha, unfairly ousted — not long ago — via some acrimonious legal maneuvering.
Everybody — most particularly Bron — is astonished when Blanc turns up, identical invitation in hand. The detective, unswervingly polite to the core, is embarrassed by having unwittingly crashed the party; Bron sets him at ease. After all, the cunningly conceived weekend will be far more successful if he’s able to outfox the world-famous Benoit Blanc.
Norton is sublime as a condescending show-off in the mold of Elon Musk; the actor’s arrogant sneer reeks of smarm. We loathe him on sight, and fervently hope — in true Christie fashion — that he’s not long for this world.
Ah, but this is Johnson, not Christie. Best to not make assumptions.
Blanc quickly learns that Andi isn’t the only guest with an ax to grind; everybody has ample reason to hate Bron’s guts. Then why, Blanc wonders aloud to Bron, would he fill his palatial home with so many people eager to really kill him?
The opportunity for humiliation, of course: a lamentable characteristic that Bron apparently has exercised quite often.
Birdie has long viewed herself as the world’s trendiest mover and shaker: an image constantly damaged by her frequent bouts of foot-in-mouth disease. Hudson makes her cheerfully clueless, clinging to a remnant of sexuality quickly obliterated when she gets an eyeful of Duke’s bodacious girlfriend, Whiskey (Madelyn Cline), present as a “plus one.”
Hudson’s poolside surrender, when Birdie sees Whiskey in a barely-there bikini, is one of Johnson’s numerous laugh-out-loud lines.
Although Bautista is (as always) a hulking presence, Duke’s machismo evaporates in his host’s presence; he becomes nervous and twitchy. Matters aren’t helped by the fact that Whisky seems perfectly willing to share her, um, free-spirited carnality.
Claire is an emotional train wreck, given to explosive bursts of surprise, dismay and outright fury: pretty much the template for most of Hahn’s performances. She’s this film’s sole disappointment, as her range — all the way from A to B — is a very weak link in an otherwise excellent acting ensemble.
Odom’s Lionel is cool and calm, with a scientist’s careful precision in word and action. He’s nonetheless dismayed by what Bron has done with Alpha, and has ample reason to worry about the company’s future.
Andi, finally, has the chill, ice-cold stare of a person badly wronged: not only betrayed by Bron, but subsequently let down by all these others, once regarded as close friends. Monáe exudes regal pride and bearing, with a touch of calculation. Whereas Claire, Lionel, Birdie or Duke could behave rashly, in the heat of a strained moment, any nefarious act by Andi would result from long-gestating scheming.
The gathering is augmented further by Peg (Jessica Henwick), Birdie’s long-suffering assistant; and Derol (Noah Segan), a slacker who hangs about on Miles’ estate. “Just passing through,” he says, each time he wanders into a scene … which naturally makes us wonder, all the more, what the hell he’s doing here.
(Segan also popped up in Knives Out, as feckless Trooper Wagner.)
Jackie Hoffman, Hugh Grant and Ethan Hawke pop up in fleeting cameos, as do real-world celebs such as Serena Williams, Yo-Yo Ma, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Stephen Sondheim and — in her final film appearance — Angela Lansbury.
Craig swans through these heady proceedings with an impish blend of intuition, savoir faire and razor-sharp perception. Blanc’s manner, often lamentable wardrobe choices and (to borrow a character’s line from Knives Out) “Kentucky-fried Foghorn Leghorn drawl” immediately set him apart from everybody else, almost to the point of ridicule.
That’s deliberate, of course, as it encourages others to under-estimate him; he’s Christie’s Hercule Poirot by way of Peter Falk’s Columbo. And the most intriguing detail about Blanc is that we know nothing about him: where he comes from, what he does in his spare time, how he came to be such a well-known detective.
He is, to quote Winston Churchill, “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma” … and that’s precisely what Johnson and Craig intend.
Rick Heinrichs’ modernistic production design is quite captivating, most notably in a large gallery room laden with bizarre glass sculptures. Nathan Johnson’s whimsical orchestral score adds just the right flourish to every conversation, confrontation and set-piece. (He also scored Knives Out.)
It’s possible — if unlikely — that attentive and mystery-honed viewers will anticipate one or more of Johnson’s sly plot twists, but that’s not the way to approach this cheeky romp. Just sit back and have a great time, knowing that you’re in the hands of a consummate storyteller and filmmaker.
Johnson and Craig apparently have a third Benoit Blanc entry planned for 2024. I can’t wait.
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