Glass Onion eschews the old dark house and the old New England monied family milieu of its precursor and takes for its setting a private Greek island owned by tech billionaire Miles Bron. Bron has gathered his fellow internet celebrity cronies together for a pretend murder mystery in which he's the victim. Benoit Blanc, who has been going out of his mind during the COVID-19 lockdown, is delighted to find he's invited to participate. The sunkissed Mediterranean island location, and the boat all the guests must board to get there, recall not only Christie's Evil Under the Sun but also the 1973 all-star whodunit The Last of Sheila. hat little-seen gem was written by murder mystery buffs Steven Sondheim and Anthony Perkins; inspired by a series of elaborate puzzles and role-playing games they used to organize for their own all-star cast of show biz pals. Johnson is clearly a fan of Sheila, as Glass Onion makes constant references to that picture without ever being derivative of it.
While the actual plot of Glass Onion is nowhere near as sharp or satisfying as the intricate narrative in Knives Out, the sequel doubles down on the humor and succeeds best at where the original film came up short—it utilizes each member of its ensemble to the very best of their abilities. We go to a film like this wanting everyone we see on the poster to be showcased equally and to live up to the various visages we see staring back at us in the lobby. We meet the Glass Onion ensemble in a hurried but hilarious introductory sequence. Edward Norton is perfectly cast as the arrogant tech billionaire who owns the island and cooks up the adventure. Miles Bron is clearly based on Elon Musk, but the character also plays cheekily on Norton's own conceited reputation in Hollywood. Dave Bautista is hilarious as a blowhard men’s rights podcaster/YouTuber who brings his opportunistic girlfriend along like an accessory. Kathryn Hahn's political candidate beholden to Bron's donations is a natural fit for her comedic gifts. Leslie Odom Jr. scores as a tech bro who actually understands how the technology he's profiting from works. Kate Hudson all but steals the movie as an entitled supermodel who's constantly cancelled for the offensive things she says on social media. Lastly, there's Janelle Monáe as the co-founder of Bron's company, who was cheated out of her share of billions the way Mark Zuckerberg allegedly did to Eduardo Saverin. All these folks have a motive to kill Bron for real at his pretend murder mystery party.
But the picture's purest joy comes from Craig. Now freed from his brooding 007 straightjacket, he tears into Benoit Blanc as if it was the only role he was put on Earth to play. There's a real risk here, as a character like Blanc is already so exaggerated that doubling down on him and placing him even more at the center of a movie could have backfired and quickly reduced such an inventive creation into tiresome shtick. But Craig's Blanc belongs in the company of Peter Sellers’ Inspector Clouseau more than Mike Myers’ Austin Powers. Blanc is not just a funny accent and goofy mannerisms. His passion for solving mysteries is not a novelty premise that gets less and less funny the more it's recycled. The character is such an endless source of unexpected humor that it's hard to imagine him wearing out his welcome. Part of the magic is that, within the context of this heightened picture, everything about Blanc feels credible. Even when he does things like hanging a lantern on how "steeeupid" much of this movie's plot is, it never feels like he and the film are overtly winking at the audience. Craig is able to find genuine motivation for his every choice and every comical utterance. He has as much fun playing Blanc as Blanc has in solving cases, and we get swept up in the enthusiasm of both the actor and the character.
In addition to the stars, the picture is chock full of cameos, most of which feel genuinely special and fitting, as opposed to the whoever-was-on-the-lot-that-day quality such appearances often possess. The film's underlying themes hit home just as effectively as the ones in Knives Out, its takedown of the dumb, self-congratulatory rich cuts far sharper than the similarly themed Palme d'Or winning Triangle of Sadness. Its arrival couldn’t be more timely. The film drops right when Elon Musk's haphazard takeover of Twitter is demonstrating (not for the first time) just how incompetent and irresponsible these blowhard billionaire entrepreneurs can be. Thus the picture feels all the more like one of 2022's more significant releases as will as the year’s most fun night out at the movies. It's just a shame it will only play theaters for one measly week during a Thanksgiving pre-release and lose all its juice by its December Netflix premiere. Everyone should get to see this in a packed cinema as I did. As with Knives Out, it's hard to imagine anyone not enjoying this picture.