HOUSE OF GUCCI REVIEW

Gaga occupies the highest position in Ridley Scott's sometimes ridiculous drama based on the true saga of the Italian fashion dynasty. Lady Gaga paves the way for iron in madness.

House of Gucci is based on Sara Gay Forden's non-fiction book by screenwriters Becky Johnston and Roberto Bentivegna, from the 1970s Milan party scene to the end-of-the-century attention-grabbing process. It shows the viewer an effective path.

The focus is on the romance of fate between Patrizia and Maurizio Gucci. Maurizio Gucci was played behind the stylish and enthusiastic glasses by the movie's sexy nerd Adam Driver. When Patrizia scribbles her number on the windshield of Maurizio's scooter with lipstick, at first everything is a passion for opera. It's an impressive picture. He is a two-wheeled idiot. She is a high-wire circus group that overcomes the great peaks of dynasty wealth on a unicycle. She may not know Picasso's Klimt, but Patrizia has a lot of swings, like Paul Verhoeven's showgirl flea noble relatives.

This is how Jeremy Irons' increasingly vampire Rodolfo sees her when she denies her son for marrying her "truck driver" family. The wise uncle Aldo (Al Pacino) falls in love with Patrizia's little charm more and more. This allows her and her nephew to join a fashion house run with her brother. For a minute, Patrizia will be the daughter of the next lady, Lady Macbeth, a truck mogul. Lady Macbeth is preparing to "put out the trash."

Just like the transition from a quick marriage to a hellish farewell, a sharp hint ("I'm sure Maurizio loves your whirlpool") is a super-rapid change in devotion from Patrizia to Paola. Shows (call my agent Camille Cottin)). Behind it lies the shadow of the Godfather. The Godfather offers a typical template for everything from outdoor festivals in the countryside chaired by Pacino to dark acts and baptismal flooding, despite being bath water rather than holy water. And recently there is Jared Leto, an actor with a mantra that "has never been consciously underestimated."

As Aldo's ridiculous son Paolo, Leto appears to be starring in his own audition for the award ceremony. Leto conveys his lines with a series of high-pitched screams suggesting that he is trying to communicate with the whale. Only Pacino is approaching the existence of Leto's parody screen. The scene after the two are paired in a tragic disorder looks like an outtake from an Italian remake of Little Britain. House of Gucci is a beige and brown palette with nicotine and caffeine scents, and the occasional explosion of reporter-style monochrome does a solid job reminiscent of the environment of modern history.

Musically, it's the joy of a tight jukebox, a wedding where Pavarotti and Tracy Chapman rub their shoulders with Katerina Caselli and Blondie and play to the sound of George Michaels Face. Those who are looking forward to the promised Mommie Deareststyle Campfest on the

trailer will be disappointed. For better or for worse, the House of Gucci is a little too good to be a cult classic. But Gaga deserves a gong to guide the steel path in madness-not richer and poorer. With kitsch and wealth.

Overall, Gaga's performance was insanely good, she cannot do anything wrong, in fact, unlike Adam Driver, she kept the italian accent during the whole film, like she should. Speaking of style, the pieces selected for this movie were stunnig but predictable, O would have shown more flashy/showy pieces like in the first scene.