A Technicolor Dream
Kiss of the Spider Woman is one of the finest movie musicals in recent years — if not the very best.
Bill Condon may have directed films across various genres, but he’s certainly no stranger to musicals. After writing Chicago (2002), Dreamgirls (2006) — which he also directed — and The Greatest Showman (2017), as well as directing Beauty and the Beast (2017), he returns with a remake of Kiss of the Spider Woman. The film is based on the 1992 stage musical (written by Terrence McNally), itself adapted from Manuel Puig’s 1976 novel and previously brought to the screen in 1985.
To prepare, Condon immersed himself in every incarnation of the material, from Puig’s novel to the earliest libretto drafts with Fred Ebb, through workshop scripts and McNally’s final Broadway text. His dedication clearly paid off. Tom Kirdahy, executor of McNally’s literary estate, praised the finished screenplay: “This is the best telling of Spider Woman I have ever read. Without Terrence [McNally]'s book, the screenplay wouldn’t exist, but this is Bill’s screenplay… and for 2025, it is quite literally the best version of Spider Woman I’ve ever experienced.”
Starring Jennifer Lopez, Diego Luna, and Tonatiuh, Kiss of the Spider Woman is one of the finest movie musicals in recent years — if not the very best. With striking visuals, costumes that are to die for (can we give Colleen Atwood and Christina Cantella their Academy Award already?), and a touch of old Hollywood glamour, it makes you fall in love with the genre all over again — or perhaps for the first time.
There’s a certain magic in watching a film this beautiful — not just for its stunning visuals, but for what it represents. It sweeps you away completely, leaving you smiling at the screen, your chest full of warmth, your heart light, almost giddy, as if you could float right out of your seat. Moments like these are rare, but when they happen, they feel luminous, reminding you why you fell in love with movies in the first place — and that’s exactly the experience of watching Condon’s Kiss of the Spider Woman.
Musical films have always held a special place in my heart, but this one feels different — like a Technicolor dream you never want to wake up from. Tobias A. Schliessler’s cinematography is mesmerizing, perfectly contrasting the oppressive atmosphere of 1980s Argentina with the radiant fantasy of classic Technicolor musicals. The result evokes the golden-age splendour of MGM, particularly recalling moments from Singin’ in the Rain (1952) and its iconic “Red Room” sequence, where colour, choreography, and emotion collide in pure cinematic bliss. I sat before the screen with stars in my eyes and the biggest smile on my face, completely swept away by the film’s visual magic.
Condon’s direction blends fantasy and reality with effortless fluidity. The film weaves in and out of dreamlike musical numbers that reveal the characters’ emotions rather than simply entertaining. The choreographies are both theatrical and natural, perfectly in sync with the story’s rhythm, while the songs feel like fleeting memories — brief escapes from the harshness of imprisonment. And the camera moves with them, caught between hope and despair.
Lopez is magnetic in a role that seems tailor-made for her. It’s easily her best work in years — a reminder of how extraordinary she can be when matched with material worthy of her talent and charisma. Tonatiuh and Luna deliver equally moving performances. Tonatiuh’s quiet intensity lends emotional texture to every scene, while Luna brings tenderness and moral clarity to his role. Together, their chemistry is deeply affecting, built on unspoken understanding and shared vulnerability. They form the film’s emotional core, transforming a story of repression into one of empathy, imagination, and resistance.
Beneath its dazzling surface, Kiss of the Spider Woman is also deeply political. It explores identity, art, and the power of fantasy as both an escape and a form of resistance under oppression. Condon doesn’t just restage the musical — he makes it resonate for today, showing how imagination can defy harsh realities. Set during Argentina’s Dirty War, these themes still feel urgent. Looking back on the story a decade ago, Condon said, “I revisited the novel [...] and was struck by how ahead of its time it was, especially in its approach to sexuality and gender.”
Condon’s love for both cinema and theatre shines through every frame. His staging feels like a love letter to performance — the illusion of light, movement, and storytelling. The editing flows seamlessly between reality and imagination until they’re indistinguishable, underscoring one of the film’s central ideas: that art and life are inextricably interconnected.
You have to see it on the big screen — it’s far too beautiful to experience anywhere else. Condon, inspired by Bob Fosse’s Cabaret (1972), stripped away most of the prison-set songs to heighten the contrast between Argentina’s grim realism and the lush escapism of a Technicolor musical. The juxtaposition is breathtaking, turning the act of imagination into a cinematic lifeline.
When the credits ended, I sat in silence, still carried by that rare, unforgettable feeling only the very best films can leave behind. Kiss of the Spider Woman is more than a triumph of craft or a showcase of talent — it’s a reminder of what cinema can achieve when it truly dares to feel. As Condon explained, “The only way to make Spider Woman the way it should be made was to keep it small and keep it ours,” and that intimacy is exactly what makes the film so powerful, resonant, and deeply moving.
Bill Condon’s Kiss of the Spider Woman isn’t just a remake — it’s a reawakening. A film about the power of imagination and resilience that stands as a testament to the enduring magic of musicals and the belief that beauty and truth can coexist, even in the darkest corners of the world.
Kiss of the Spider Woman is now playing in theatres.
Photo: Courtesy of Mongrel Media
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