The times are bleak, the mood is dour. For a short reprieve, some may choose to escape into a good book, a well-loved album, a favorite show, or a movie that has nothing to do with the current state of things. Escapism has always been at the heart of the story of Manuel Puig’s book “Kiss of the Spider Woman.” Although the story has lived many lives since its 1976 publication—from stage to screen, and later, back to the stage and now again on the big screen—the appeal of art as a source of comfort and maybe even a much-needed distraction in dark times endures.
The year is 1983, and in Argentina, things are not going well. About 30,000 people have been killed or imprisoned during its Dirty War, including our two main characters, Valentín (Diego Luna), a political prisoner, and Luis Molina (Tonatiuh), who was imprisoned for his sexuality. To distract them from their grim circumstances, Molina regales his reluctant listener and cellmate with the story about one of his favorite movies, “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” a musical starring the glamorous Ingrid Luna (Jennifer Lopez) filled with dancing, intrigue, betrayal, a curse, and of course, romance. While the warden is pressuring Molina to get information out of Valentín, the two men grow closer in the face of torture and uncertainty, and Molina must decide if he should still betray Valentín to return to his ailing mother or tend to his new companion.
Based on Puig’s novel and the Tony-award-winning Broadway musical by Terrance McNally, this iteration of “Kiss of the Spider Woman” leans into the musical extravaganza of its form, sweeping audiences out of the dingy cell block into colorful faux-Technicolor worlds that bring to mind candy-colored classic musicals like “An American in Paris” and “Singin’ in the Rain.” Bill Condon, who brought us the dazzling adaptation of “Dreamgirls” and shared a writing credit on the film version of “Chicago,” is no stranger to the fun and frivolity of musical numbers between dramatic interludes. Condon’s “Kiss of the Spider Woman” is a reminder of what a great on-screen musical looks and feels like.
Like a conductor at the head of an orchestra, he’s color-coordinated everything through production design, costuming, and hair and makeup for maximum drama. Working with cinematographer Tobias Schliessler to play up the contrasts between the film’s reality and the escapist fantasy of the film-within-a-film, Condon creates the sumptuous musical sequences to look like they were filmed on old soundstages in a world of Pedro Almodóvar-level saturated colors.
For classic musical fans, this movie is something close to cat nip, referencing movies like “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” and “Chicago,” including sequences of Ingrid getting ready that looked out of “Flower Drum Song,” a busy ballroom a la the Fred and Ginger standard “Top Hat,” the club scene out of “The Band Wagon,” and an ode to Judy Garland in “Summer Stock.” There’s even a snippet of Paul Schrader’s 1982 adaptation of “Cat People” as a nod to Puig’s original book.
To sell the film’s somber reality and the dazzling fantasy, each performer does their part to sell the dual story. Dressed in hand-beaded gowns, Veronica Lake-style blonde waves, and immaculate red lipstick that matches her manicure, Lopez embraces the part of Molina’s muse, Ingrid Luna, and her movie’s counterpart, the Spider Woman, a specter of death and entrapment. Lopez brings an ebullient jolt to the film whenever she’s on-screen and relishes the glamour and dancing of her scenes. Her character embodies an escapism that’s both physical and personal for Molina, using Ingrid’s movies to talk freely about his desire to be seen as a woman because he feels like one and as a reprieve from the confines of his jail cell and a society that refuses to accept his queerness.
Since Lopez is playing up her character’s bombastic on-screen persona, her co-star Luna holds more of a quieter place in the mix, both as the beaten-down but not-yet-defeated revolutionary and as the dashing romantic love interest in Ingrid’s film, Armando. He’s the love interest for both her character and Molina’s, the man who must be saved from the mob in the film and from the warden in prison.
While he starts the movie with a scowl and a bad attitude towards his new cellmate, Luna’s performance softens over the course of the movie, slowly revealing his character’s tenderness and desire. Despite his status as a relative newcomer, Tonatiuh (“Vida”) is the undisputed star of this “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” holding his own alongside Lopez and Luna. He’s quick with a smile, a quip, and a flirtatious look, but can switch gears on a dime when the fantasy his character conjured up comes crashing down from the pressures of the outside world.
Of course, for those of us who have seen one or more iterations of “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” it’s difficult to avoid certain comparisons, but because this movie musical version is different from both the film and the show, it’s able to stand on its own merits. The odd couple dynamic between the dreamer and revolutionary feels even more pronounced in the 2025 version than Héctor Babenco’s 1985 version, starring Raul Julia and William Hurt, because the latter was presented as a straightforward drama instead of a heightened musical-drama hybrid.
While we feel Sônia Braga’s ethereal presence throughout the original film, Lopez’s role in the new adaptation is much more substantial as she’s involved with many of the film’s song-and-dance numbers. Other details, like relocating the story back to its native Argentina from Brazil and making the movie a Latin American musical instead of a Nazi propaganda romance, differentiate the two adaptations.
“Kiss of the Spider Woman” arrives at a time when we could perhaps use a little more distraction, an excuse to stop doomscrolling and fall into the old school charms of sweeping musicals and a story about love in the face of oppression. Although the music from the songwriting team of John Kander and Fred Ebb isn’t as memorable as some of their earlier works in “Chicago” or “Cabaret,” they work quite nicely with Condon’s colorful world of made-believe and a cast of talented actors who transport us to worlds beyond our own walls. It’s kitsch but a delightfully surprising throwback, and a welcome reminder that in times of need, we still have art for escape.
