Review: KISS OF THE SPIDERWOMAN Confidently Harnesses the Language of Film

Manila, Philippines—One of Argentine novelist Manuel Puig's most celebrated works in the '70s, "Kiss of the Spiderwoman” has spawned several iterations: a play, adapted by Puig himself, in 1983; an Academy Award-winning film in 1985; A Tony Award-winning musical in 1993, and now a triumphant and visually-stunning movie musical, starring the dazzling Jennifer Lopez as Ingrid Luna; the compelling, charismatic Diego Luna as Valentin Arregui; and the vibrant, nuanced Tonatiuh as Luis Molina.   

Based on the Broadway musical, with a book by Terrence McNally and exhilarating music by John Kander, and lyrics by Fred Ebb, resembling the jazz-vaudeville-inspired sound of "Cabaret" and "Chicago." However, in "Kiss of the Spiderwoman," which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year, movie musical veteran Bill Condon reimagines it, with additional songs from the pre-Broadway production.  

Sadly, a few fun and anthemic numbers from the Broadway production, such as "Dressing Them Up," "The Day After That," and "Come,” didn't make the cut. The quartet "Dear One" (Querido) is now sung by the prisoners, wearing newly translated lyrics in Spanish. 

The story is set during the tail end of Argentina's Guerra sucia (Dirty War), where a military dictatorship ran the country, arresting people they deemed affiliated with socialists, far-left Peronists, and Roman Catholics. At that time, the military also detained gay men.   

Enter Arregui, a hardened political revolutionary, and Molina, a flamboyant gay window dresser, overwhelmingly fond of the Spanish luxury house, Balenciaga. These two unlikely cellmates break the ice and slowly form a bond, with the help of Molina's retelling of his favorite classic movie musical, "Kiss of the Spiderwoman,” which starred his muse, Luna. Unbeknownst to Arregui, the prison warden has forced Molina to spy on the revolutionary, in exchange for a parole and to rejoin his sick mother.   

Diego Luna plays Valentin Arregui; Tonatiuh, Luis Molina.

Condon, who wrote the movie adaptation of "Chicago" and wrote and directed the film adaptation of "Dreamgirls," is the best film visionary to transport the audience to Puig's two extremely opposite worlds: the cold, gray-hued, and claustrophobic realities in prison and Molina's fantasy world, bursting with the saturated Technicolor hues of Hollywood's Golden Age. The lavish, MGM-esque musical numbers are captured with sweeping crane shots, and Sergio Trujillo's intricate choreography pays homage to the classics that Molina loves so much.  

A notable advantage is Condon's familiarity with Bob Fosse's choreographic style, as evident in "Cabaret” and "Chicago," which adds to the thrill and interpretative brilliance, especially in the showstopping numbers "Where You Are" and "Gimme Love."    

Condon's masterful direction also enhances the show's metafictional layers through creative visual transitions. A slow pan across a dingy prison cell impeccably dissolves into the glittering stage proscenium or a vast ballroom, directly mirroring the narrative's juxtaposition of gritty reality and escapist fantasy in a way the stage version never could.  

"Dreamgirls," though, where the songs "One Night Only" and "And Am I Telling You I'm not Going," push the story forward, "Kiss of the Spiderwoman" songs, such as "She's a Woman" and the title song, express the character's journey and emotions, entrapping the two prisoners in a make-believe, yet far significantly better world.    

Although Lopez, along with Luna, tops the bill in the show, its breakout star is Tonatiuh, who is the film's undeniable heart.  Seemingly a chatterbox of a character, Molina is a showcase of immense strength, depth, and vulnerability. His presence brings light and warmth to the harsh environment in which the prisoners lived.  

Jennifer Lopez plays Aurora.

In her multiple roles, Lopez's excellent singing and dancing dexterity is impossible to ignore. Lopez's glamorous Aurora and her fatalistic Spiderwoman, who protects a small Argentinean town at the price of a human life, is a perfect vehicle for her musical film debut. The late Chita Rivera, who originated the Spiderwoman on the Broadway stage, must be delighted.  

On the other hand, Luna's Arregui is a persistent political firebrand, embodying a gruff exterior and a rigid, at times wearied, inmate, while seamlessly transforming into a dashing, romantic matinee idol, Armando, opposite Lopez's Aurora, in Molina's movie fantasies.  

At its core, the film succeeds in framing the real and reel bond between Arregui and Molina, Aurora and Armando, respectively, as a true love story, rooted in altruism and mutual transformation.  

"Kiss of the Spiderwoman" is an essential movie musical, joining the ranks of Academy Award-winning movie musicals "Cabaret” and "Chicago."   

It's a rare stage-to-film adaptation that confidently harnesses the language of film while honoring its literary and theatrical sources. 

It's a powerful human drama about love and resistance in the face of oppression.