‘Kiss of the Spider Woman’ Review: Jennifer Lopez Provides Welcome Escape From Grim World of Argentine Prisoners

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In the film “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” originally a Kander and Ebb musical and now adapted for the big screen by director Bill Condon (of “Dreamgirls” fame), boundaries are frequently blurred. This groundbreaking movie, set in an Argentine prison in 1983 during the country’s Dirty War, offers a contrasting perspective to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Evita,” focusing on the oppressive military regime that succeeded Eva Péron’s rule. Despite its grim setting, the musical manages to reveal glimmers of hope and an unanticipated bond in even the darkest circumstances.

In every adaptation of Manuel Puig’s novel, films provide a valuable escape from not just political oppression, but also societal norms that restrict us biologically. As we immerse ourselves in the dimmed theater, viewers temporarily detach from their physical selves, empathizing with the characters they watch, regardless of gender. This is a unique quality that captivates us and can be seen in “Kiss,” where the dreamy Molina (Tonatiuh), a convicted sex offender sharing a cell with the activist Valentín (Diego Luna), uses tales inspired by classic cinema to make their imprisonment more bearable.

Upon their encounter, it’s clear that Molina and Valentin are polar opposites. With long hair and an elegant demeanor, Molina carries himself as if he were a female character, adorning his cell with images of Jennifer Lopez resembling the silver-screen icon Ingrid Luna. On the other hand, every move Valentin makes seems to be for a camera that only exists in his mind, while Valentin himself is deeply focused, often disregarding his own health for his cause.

Even though the dissident feels annoyed by the diversion, Molina was deliberately positioned in Valentín’s room to coax out the secrets he’s unwilling to reveal during interrogation. Molina has absolutely no curiosity about politics at all, and his agreement with the warden (Bruno Bichir) clearly shows that he doesn’t hesitate to backstab others for his own benefit – a trait that is evident in his stories of the Spider Woman (also Lopez), the cunning female character from a movie he watched years ago.

In the prison’s political section, Molina adores “La Luna,” the celestial body he refers to from a movie, often irritating Valentin with his chatter about pop culture. Valentin, who is engrossed in reading, queries Molina, “Why do you waste yourself on trivial matters?” The prisoners in this section are largely dependent on morphine, but Valentin, alongside others, stands firm in protecting the disappeared dissidents and preserving their own lives, while Molina seems to indulge in a false domestic routine.

Reflecting on both the initial movie and stage adaptations, the character Molina is frequently referred to as homosexual. However, Puig contested this label right from the start, citing social critic Theodore Roszack in his book’s footnotes: “The woman who most needs liberation, and urgently so, is the ‘woman’ that every man keeps imprisoned within their own mind.” So, could we characterize this seemingly incongruous pair’s bond as a romantic one? In modern terms, Molina would likely identify as transgender today. This is just one of the many transformations portrayed in the movie, which follows Valentín and Molina as they develop feelings for each other.

In line with Terrence McNally’s approach, Condon wisely avoids excessive exposition of the couple’s relationship. Much like the dreamy focus given to a classic film star, a touch of vagueness effectively leaves room for one’s imagination to fill in the gaps. Instead, it is in depicting Molina’s vivid, Technicolor daydreams that Condon provides specific details.

Every time “Kiss” switches from the frosty gray confines of the cell, it seeks an actress capable of delivering captivating 60s-themed musical performances, as Chita Rivera did on stage. Here we find a true diva in Lopez, radiating allure in a threefold role (Ingrid Luna, Aurora, and the Spider Woman), which is likely to attract audiences who may not typically enjoy musicals. However, it’s the relatively lesser-known Tonatiuh who steals the show, revealing both power and sensitivity in a character that appears less frivolous with each subsequent scene.

Ingrid Luna, as portrayed by Lopez, embodies a unique representation of the Latin American feminine ideal, which Hollywood attempted to shape into its Anglo-style mold (as her blonde hair and Edith Head-esque costumes suggest). Molina sings about her admiration in the song “She’s a Woman,” making clear what many viewers may have already surmised: “How fortunate can you be? … If only I could be her.” After every dreamlike scene, Valentín offers his critique, labeling musicals as mere propaganda — an ironic comment considering the film aligns itself with rebels and misfits rather than the ruling class.

Condon skillfully brings out the acting talent in Tonatiuh, giving him a moment reminiscent of Jennifer Hudson’s performance, as the character’s deep emotions are evident in every scene, except for the title song where visual choreography takes precedence over melody to make the songs shine. In contrast, Condon, who adapted “Chicago” for the screen, appears more reserved in this film, alternating between the grimy reality of prison life and Molina’s imaginative musings. The song “Dear One,” originally sung by two prisoners and their loved ones on the outside, is creatively transformed into an acoustic guitar ballad titled “Querido.”

In She’s a Woman, Condon makes Tonatiuh shine just like Jennifer Hudson did in a certain performance. The character’s inner feelings are visible throughout the film, except for the title song where dance moves rather than music make it stand out. Compared to his work on Chicago, Condon seems less flashy here and switches between the harsh prison life and Molina’s imaginative stories. The song “Dear One” is transformed into a ballad named “Querido.

In ‘Kiss’, the production numbers are employed in a way that contrasts with ‘Dreamgirls’. Unlike ‘Dreamgirls’, where music served as a powerful driving force for the narrative, skipping over months or years within a single song, in ‘Kiss’, it’s unclear how fast time is progressing. Here, the structure is reminiscent of an opera (though the music isn’t), as Condon simplifies the storyline to let the characters’ emotions unfold through song. This results in frequent transitions of the two prisoners into a more ideal world, as seen in the beautiful ‘Where You Are’.

In these instances, the songs in the movie function as a means for Molina and Valentin to cope, as they mentally step into the roles of the male characters: Luna, now clean-shaven, plays the love interest opposite Lopez, who exudes a charming suaveness similar to William Holden. Meanwhile, Tonatiuh maintains a distance, embodying Cary Grant’s charm as he watches over them both. It is also important to note that Molina has been deceiving his cellmate in order to gather information that could help him get out of prison. However, as time goes by, he develops a sense of respect and even care for Valentin, using his ability to deceive not only against the cellmate but also the warden, while bartering for roast chicken and other favors.

For Kander and Ebb, the musical “Kiss” presented another opportunity similar to “Cabaret,” where they could turn a dark setting (Nazi Germany vs Argentina’s Dirty War) into something hopeful using music and an extraordinary love story that seemed improbable. In a world where the Academy embraces “Emilia Pérez,” there might be room for another musical that challenges gender norms. Molina could be seen as part of a long line of tragic LGBTQ+ characters, but this portrayal manages to break free from that stereotype, leading Molina’s character development to its natural end – becoming a cinematic role model for those who view heroes with the same sensitivity as Molina does.

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2025-01-27 06:49