Jennifer Lopez launched her film career with 1997's Selena, portraiying the titular, on-the-brink-of-global-stardom Tejano singer and performer. In the nearly 30 years since, her on-screen credits have ranged from action films to rom-coms, film noir to scifi and everything in between—to varying degrees of success. In all that time, no role has quite defined her as much as that first one...until now. With Bill Condon's Kiss of the Spider Woman, an adaptation of the Kander and Ebb musical (with a book by Terrence McNally), she redefines her on-screen career with a role she was seemingly born to play. Combined with Condon's knack for movie musicals (he was nominated for writing 2002's Chicago and directed Jennifer Hudson to an Oscar in Dreamgirls), the film—though it's not without its hiccups—is an immersive and flashy affair as all the best movie musicals are.
Sourced from a 1976 novel by Argentine author Manuel Puig, the story follows two cellmates in an Argentine prison in 1975 and one's escapism as he recounts the plots, in great detail, of his favorite films starring fictional screen siren Ingrid Luna (Lopez). The premise is more than a bit wobbly, and though I've never seen the stage production (it hasn't been staged in the US since at least 2007), the film is at its weakest when it tries to get political, delving into politics, gay rights, government oppression and the like. Instead, Condon (who adapted the stage version for the screen), is smart to rely on the sheer watchability of his trio of lead actors to carry the story.
Diego Luna is Valentin, a political prisoner who's been in jail for quite some time and who has seen many cellmates come and go; newcomer Tonatiuh is Molina, an openly gay department store window dresser who is one year into a sentence for "corrupting a minor" when he finds himself sharing a cell with Valentin. As Aurora (or, Ingrid Luna), Lopez is the woman of both their dreams, if for very different reasons. She's the star of every movie poster on their hard stone walls, and Molina knows every scene, every detail of her films like a schoolboy reciting his multiplication tables (if with a bit more flair). The film alternates between scenes in prison—Valentin writing to his girlfriend on the other side, the prison guards finding new ways to humiliate Molina—and recreations of musical numbers and scenes from Ingrid's films.
The contrast between the two couldn't be more significant. Molina does his best to brighten up their dank prison cell, but even he can't make lemonade out of these lemons. The walls are still stone, there are still bars on the window. Compare that to Lopez's scenes, all Hollywood glitz and glamour with lush costumes, bright art deco set design and jazzy choreography. The screen comes alive each time Lopez enters; she delivers most of the film's musical numbers and she is quite simply made for them. This adaptation only features 14 songs (compared to the stage version's 24), and Lopez performs at least nine of them. Three of the songs are new to this version of the film, though it's likely only the most discerning audiences will be able to parse out all the differences.
The film's most outlandish number, of course, is "Kiss of the Spider Woman" and it's as delicious as it is campy; Lopez's webby costume and the glossy, stage-like set are a treat, one that she practically eats up whole. As the film's plot progresses, Condon tries to lead into the gravity of the situation for both Valentin and Molina but in a juxtaposition of how these things usually go, we've become so invested in them personally that much of the added narrative weight feels unnecessary. Much more interesting is watching them bond, as Molina shares his stories generously with a skeptical Valentin and Valentin slowly lets his guard down with a cellmate unlike any he's ever had. Luna is subtle in his mannerisms but never weak; Tonatiuh is a discovery as the ever-optimistic (some might say delusional) Molina.
The production has the air of a long-time passion project for Lopez, following in the footsteps of the great Chita Rivera, who originated the role in the original production. In fact, the film was first greenlit in 2023 and production moved quickly from there, with Kiss of the Spider Woman premiering at this year's Sundance Film Festival (where I saw the film). At the time, that felt like an odd place for a film of this caliber to make its first bow—surely Cannes or one of the top tier fall festivals might have been a more prestigious place to start? But ultimately, Condon's movie musical is as approachable as it is elevated, a celebration of a Kander and Ebb classic with a leading lady as captivating as the character she plays on screen.
Kiss of the Spider Woman opens in theaters October 10, with early screenings on Thursday, October 9
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