There will be those who do not find the point in a piece like Gucci House in the director’s filmography Blade runner or Gladiator… In two and a half hours Ridley Scottjust out of disagreement (and financially unsatisfactory) The last duel, tells how the humble fashionista Patricia Reggiani, a lower-class worker, marries Maurizio Gucci, heir to the Gucci family empire, despite the many issues raised in the film. A mixture of comedy and drama with obvious ramifications of a thriller (and even a mafia film) appears in front of the viewer with an undisguised flamenco atmosphere.

But, as with many British films, the main thing Gucci Housewith the whole atmosphere of European luxury – this is the traumatic evolution – even the disappearance – of the old regime after being absorbed by a new environment, new circumstances, new rules that lift their heads until they enter the room, like the xenomorph in Nostromo. Whether it’s a conflict between human and artificial Blade runner, the aforementioned alien creature (about which Scott is preparing to produce a series for Disney), we came from Thelma and Louise into a hostile world … Scott has always been an artist of events and ideologies, systemic shocks, and in this sense Gucci House – a family soap opera set in the fashion world – undoubtedly finds its author’s justification (or the whole point is that they do not remember the unfairly forgotten American gangster?).

This time, as seen in the trailer, the collapse of an aristocratic family of stale ancestors during their awkward transition to a free market, from a museum facility to a shopping mall showcase, even if this is a purely populist character operation. Lady Gaga, the Italian Madonna of the popular class, or, if you prefer, an “intruder” in an alien environment who transforms from the viewer’s eye to a strange element, from (again) alien to Nostromo, as the film begins to transform Adam Driver’s character from passive to active.

Scott carefully approaches a traumatic event for more than two hours, never boring, but never passionate (here is a stalwart advocate The last duel, this is Rasomon + Lieutenant O’Neill filmed with dirt and ash), only the context does not require this time a dirty historical epic Gladiator or Robin the Hood but the lavish European setting of a stellar melodramatic soap opera. Scott doesn’t seem to be grappling with this slippery and ambiguous trick with the power of his genre work, as his exploration of the brand’s intangibles enormously sheds light on his own position as a visionary filmmaker in the franchise world.

But if the film is justified in the biography of the 83-year-old director, the truth is that this kind of Dynasty on the big screen, despite his interest, Scott is somewhat more embarrassed than usual in tone. The film features grotesque humorous episodes (reinforced by the dancing accents of the actors), an obvious comic plane throughout the footage, giving the impression that it is not as sublime as it could, but perhaps should. His creative power seems to be diluted with a more relaxed work, designed to allow actors to act, rather than create planes and atmospheres with their usual artistic density, but which could function as an over-the-top tragicomedy, grand and operatic carnival than a film. He comes to deliver to the viewer who may have nailed Adam McKay or Martin Scorsese. In this sense, we can agree that Gucci House look a little more casual, even casual, with Scott giving the impression that he wants to take a break from himself with an unexpected clown streak, but it’s impossible not to notice that he’s also a little more clueless in key sequences.

Perhaps this is why Jared Leto was allowed to move into another film, which, on the other hand, was what it was supposed to be (or quite the opposite, when Scott filmed this question as an elegant erotic thriller in the style of Revenge, his late brother). But in the end, neither one nor the other. Al Pacino puts on his usual pageant, which we will miss one day, knowing better than anyone where he is going. And before the viewer’s eyes, the joy of everyday European life flows into a paying performance, which, thank God and the director, who, like Clint Eastwood, will die while working, opens in cinemas, and not in a trendy television mini-series.

Because Scott, despite all that has been said, continues to continually shoot brilliant scenes, such as calling Patricia Pina (Salma Hayek), the television fortuneteller who the viewer hears with a response; or a prologue with Maurizio cycling through Milan just before the decisive moment. There are only two of them, but in the film there are much more of them, which, nevertheless, gives the impression that, like the main character himself, she never finds herself. It’s a shame, but in any case, the last gem: Scott’s not-so-great work is still an above average film that endorses the principle of good entertainment, one who seeks ideas that represent us and tries to tell them without getting married. anyone.