In the build up to the release of Glass Onion– Rian Johnson’s latest in the Detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) whodunnit series- fan buzz had more or less accumulated into the same question. When taking a stab at Craig’s second on screen case, how could Johnson possibly manage to make a satisfying sequel to one of the greatest modern murder mystery movies?
We’re reintroduced to Blanc from his bathtub. Set during the COVID-19 epidemic, the world’s greatest detective is amidst a particularly gnarly bout of pandemic depression and misses the adrenaline-addled days of his PI work. I am certainly not the first to complain about Glass Onion’s intro hitting just a tad too close to home in a very literal sense, and I doubt I will be the last. The early onslaught of pandemic references did little other than sting me back into a grim reflection upon the difficult years just barely behind us. But I was eager to launch myself into the madness, and gradually tuned into the warmth of Craig’s lovely southern drawl.
Two films in, I still have no idea how he’s managed to nail the accent in a way that is simultaneously believable but always on the verge of becoming comedic genius. On screen Craig effortlessly rids himself of his previous mantles despite the colossal legacy of 007, and I find myself just quite desperately wanting to be friends with this well-natured detective.
Without the skittish charm of Ana De Armas, Glass Onion often feels very much like Benoit’s own film. Whilst Johnson tries hard to set Blanc up with a new sidekick around the film’s halfway mark, he isn’t quite able to have audiences engage with them as much as the sweet nurse Marta: although this largely feels due to Johnson trying to cram quite a complex narrative into a semi-short period of time.
As with Knives Out, Glass Onion boasted a billboard of expensive cast members playing quirky characters with hidden agendas, including the atrociously underrated Madelyn Cline as Dave Bautista’s girlfriend Whiskey. Whilst Bautista, Hudson and Hahn certainly help keep up the film’s eccentric energy, the long flashback sequences don’t give us quite as much time to enjoy this new ensemble as many movie-goers may’ve liked. Still reeling from the coronavirus references, Ed Norton’s billionaire entrepreneur Miles Bron is particularly hard to swallow as he displays an almost a painful resemblance to the recent trysts of Elon Musk- and these similarities haven’t gone unnoticed by audiences.
But the main hurdle Johnson had to overcome was one of his own making. Spawning off the critical success of its predecessor, a film that was coveted for being a clever revitalisation of an over-worn genre, the real fear lay in whether the director would be able to outsmart viewers twice.
Although the characters seem to have suffered for it, Glass Onion’s sacrifices seem to be entirely in favour of delivering a narrative that keeps us on our toes throughout the 140 minute runtime. Whilst there is the occasional sense that these twists are layered on just a little too thickly, in a thinly veiled attempt to outsmart Johnson’s greatest enemy (us) the pacing was good enough that each dramatic reveal felt exciting rather than absurd.
A barrel of fun on the surface, Johnson’s film quickly becomes a ‘glass onion’ in itself as we dive into the meat of the mystery- and marks a very interesting tie-up of the events of the last few years. However, this often winds up with Johnson shooting himself in the proverbial foot as he presses upon some very fresh cultural bruises. Satirically exploring celebrity-dom and the darkness at the heart of the commercial industries is something you can choose to read into whilst watching Glass Onion if you’d like, or you’re also welcome to simply come along for the ride.
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