House of Gucci turns out to be the sort of high-camp movie that someone like Adam McKay might make, in which case it would be huge fun. Unfortunately, Ridley Scott directs, so I can see how critics, expecting something more serious and penetrating, were put off. The spouse and I enjoyed it for the trash-tacular it is, and OTT performances (with horrendous/hilarious Italian accents) especially from Jared Leto, who seemed to have been converted (by a bald wig and facial prosthetics and a plump suit) into one of the Mario Brothers. Al Pacino sounds more like the Bronx than Florence, and joins Leto and Lady Gaga in feasting voraciously on the sets and scenery, which is gorgeous BTW. Adam Driver, as Maurizio Gucci, the one who was murdered outside his office in the nineties, is the soul of actorly restraint that the rest of the film lacks.
I am going to recommend it for the exuberantly grotesque performance of Jared Leto, and for the unrivaled velocity with which it hurtles through plot issues that would have made a lesser (and wiser) director ask, erm, shouldn't this be more like a twelve hour miniseries??
Ridley turns 84 next week. I suggest throwing a big retirement party. Maybe have a snake burst out of a cake that looks like John Hurt?
