It’s a tale as old as time: the magical power of the movies.
Hollywood loves telling stories touting how the cinema can transport us to fantastical worlds that expand our horizons and connect us to others, no matter who they are or where they live. A counterargument is that some experiences are too stifling and painful to escape from, no matter how beautiful the images projected on the silver screen are.
At least, that is the perspective of Diego Luna’s Valentín Arregui in Kiss of the Spider Woman, an adaptation of the Broadway musical. Valentin is an inmate of an Argentine prison, systematically tortured to get critical information that would break opposition to the country’s military dictatorship. The arrival of Luis Molina (Tonatiuh), a new cellmate arrested for public indecency, disrupts Valentine’s brutal solitude with bursts of flamboyance and cheekiness. Molina introduces the concept of cinema as an escape by narrating his favorite movie, “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” starring the vivacious Ingrid Luna (Jennifer Lopez). Valentin resists but soon finds himself transfixed and excited by the story, which they imagine as a vibrant production with them in the lead roles. Through the film, Arregui and Molina find a genuine connection that overwhelms their differences across gender, sexuality, and political ideology and the cruelty they face as prisoners.
For such a life-altering experience to be believable, Molina’s version of “Kiss of the Spider Woman” has to be the most dazzling adaptation possible. Filmmaker Bill Condon, who helmed the Oscar-winning Dreamgirls and Chicago, is more than up to the task. He fashions Molina’s (and eventually Valentin’s) imagination as a spirited, Technicolor dreamscape, recalling MGM at its movie musical best. Nearly every musical number in the film-within-the-film is a knockout, from the Judy Garland in Summer Stock-referencing “Where You Are” to the color-drenched “Her Name is Aurora.” Biting electricity feeds through those numbers, with Condon expertly moving through and pulling his camera back from the punchy choreography to catch every well-placed step. He allows us to appreciate the beautiful, vibrant artificiality of the sets and the costumes without losing the pulse-pounding excitement swirling through them.
Molina’s imaginary musical is in stark contrast to his and Valentín’s prison conditions. Condon uses their cell as a dank, bleak reminder of their precarious realities and a stage for their ideological and emotional conflicts. Their greatest conflict is over their perceptions of gender and sexuality. Molina is biologically male but identifies as a woman, and they achingly communicate via “She’s a Woman.” Despite his progressive politics, Valentín outright rejects Molina’s trans identity. Part of his reaction is tangled with his view of Molina as an unserious person whose humor is an act of self-denigration amidst the chaos outside their shared window. Valentín doesn’t recognize or appreciate Molina’s nature as a protective shield alongside legitimate self-expression. Those are complex narrative and thematic beats, especially for a text originating in the early 70s. Condon’s script retains the era’s limited gender context while thoughtfully unspooling the nuances for contemporary audiences.
One such way is through humor. Kiss of the Spider Woman’s tongue is pressed firmly to its cheek, laughing at everything from Hollywood storytelling’s impracticalities to how frequently movies kill queer characters off. The jokes, often delivered by Molina, are always in good faith and welcoming to Valentín and the audience, drawing us all further into Molina’s…well…web. Strong as the humor is, it sometimes sits uneasily amidst the film’s heavier moments. That unease repeats when the musical numbers explicitly bleed into the prison, as in “A Visit,” which sorely misses the shimmer of Molina’s film. Infinitely more successful, and arguably Kiss of the Spider Woman at its best, is Molina and Valentín’s relationship. Amidst the glitz and grime, Condon carves out substantial space for their surprisingly intimate and blissfully romantic union that closes their ideological chasm while subverting the tropes the film satirizes so well.
Condon also leaves ample space for his cast to shine. Tonatiuh is undeniable as Molina, giving a sensational, star-making performance of sparkling charisma and aching, wide-eyed vulnerability. He is rarely off-screen, but even the mere threat that he might disappear is unthinkable. Diego Luna is a perfect counter to Tonatiuh’s burning brightness, imbuing Valentín with a weathered intelligence and scarred cynicism that overlays the passionate idealism that prison nearly snuffed out. Tonatiuh and Luna make for a powerful pair of adversaries, friends, and soulmates. They also easily shift into the old Hollywood glamor of Molina’s movie, where Jennifer Lopez primarily resides. It’s easy to see why Molina worships Ingrid so passionately. Lopez is a force of nature, effortlessly sweeping across the screen with a potent mix of silliness and sincerity. She hits all the marks of a great musical performance, and it feels frankly ridiculous that this is her first since 1997’s Selena.
At a time when Hollywood is fascinated by and ashamed of movie musicals, Kiss of the Spider Woman is a breath of fresh air. It isn’t afraid to take the piss out of the genre, but there is genuine love and appreciation for it emanating throughout the film. It’s also remarkably aligned with our current cultural moment, adopting an idealistic but grounded perspective of achieving real connection amidst seemingly insurmountable strife. By the time the ’50s-style credits roll, you may believe in the magical power of the movies after all.
Kiss of the Spider Woman had its World Premiere in the Premieres section of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.
Director: Bill Condon
Screenwriter: Bill Condon
Rated: NR
Runtime: 128m
At a time when Hollywood is fascinated by and ashamed of movie musicals, Kiss of the Spider Woman is a breath of fresh air. It isn't afraid to take the piss out of the genre, but there is genuine love and appreciation for it emanating throughout the film.
-
GVN Rating 9
-
User Ratings (1 Votes)
9.5

A late-stage millennial lover of most things related to pop culture. Becomes irrationally irritated by Oscar predictions that don’t come true.