Reviewed by Amann Mahajan, Editor-in-Chief

An eccentric billionaire sends five seamless, polished wooden boxes to his five closest friends. After cracking a series of puzzles—peeling back the layers of the onion, so to speak—they receive an invitation to spend a weekend at his ritzy private island, where they will solve the mystery of his murder.

So begins Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery the sequel to Knives Out (2019), which retains its predecessor’s charm and cheeky self-awareness while showcasing a clear (albeit more exuberant) voice of its own. Though it’s perhaps not as subtle in its messaging as Rian Johnson’s first Benoit Blanc mystery, it’s still a worthy follow-up, and well worth a watch.

Right off the bat, we’re introduced to colorful characters, just as in Knives Out. There’s fashion designer and erstwhile model Birdie Jay (Kate Hudson), scientist Lionel Toussaint (Leslie Odom Jr.), Twitch streamer and men’s rights champion Duke Cody (Dave Bautista), and seemingly straight-laced Connecticut governor Claire Debella (Kathryn Hahn). Different in many ways, they’re united by their friendship with billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton), co-founder and CEO of Alpha Industries—essentially the “Knives Out” universe’s equivalent of Elon Musk. All four receive a box inviting them to Miles’ private island, as does Alpha co-founder Cassandra “Andi” Brand (Janelle Monáe), who’s become estranged from the group after Miles cut her out of the company.

Into this motley crew steps Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), the kindhearted detective with an accent pulled from the deep South. Mysteriously, he’s received an invitation to the island as well, though Bron didn’t send one to him. Regarded with suspicion from a (supposedly) tight-knit group of friends, he begins to understand that there might be much more going on beneath the glossy exterior of the Glass Onion than meets the eye. Miles’ friends are all dependent on his financial support: “Every single one of you is holding on for dear life to Miles Bron’s golden titties,” Andi aptly (if somewhat crassly) puts it. This makes it ever so easy for Miles to manipulate them, shape them like clay—and it creates ample room for resentment. Corruption and cowardice run rampant; as the weekend progresses, tensions come to a head, and a well-executed reversal makes it abundantly clear that all is not as it seems.

Like “Knives Out,” “Glass Onion” provides its fair share of social commentary, exploring race, class, and privilege. Obviously, Bron serves as a placeholder for eccentric billionaires like Musk and Mark Zuckerberg—yet the beauty of the movie is that it highlights the façade these men present, the ways in which they play others for fools. As Blanc chides Miles for an idiotic plan, Birdie exclaims, “Oh, it’s so dumb, it’s brilliant!” Almost wrathful, Blanc shoots back: “No! It’s just dumb!” It’s Miles’ parading, his flamboyance, his enthusiasm, and—importantly—his privilege that allow him to masquerade as a genius. In a way, Miles’ façade is like the use of misdirection in a magic trick—keep everyone’s eyes on something, and they’ll miss the truth. And in a mystery, instances of misdirection, red herrings, are all too common.

The movie’s commentary hits closer to home in no small part because of the setting: The film takes place in the summer of 2020, right near the beginning of the pandemic. Johnson puts the setting to good use, giving us subtle clues about each of the characters from their reactions to the crisis, right down to how each individual deals with their mask. (While Lionel wears his properly, Claire’s keeps slipping down her nose, Duke doesn’t wear one, and Birdie utilizes a sort of golden grille which would, in all likelihood, be completely useless.) Each character fits well into the overall picture of the pandemic; each typifies someone in power, whether it be a social media influencer or a political figure.

Some of Johnson’s messaging is a little on-the-nose, à la Don’t Look Up—the parallels to real life are almost too spot-on, the characters almost caricatures. Also like Don’t Look Up, it’s tinged with rage and despair. While the law enforcement, to some degree, aided to unravel Harlan’s murder in Knives Out, the situation is bleaker here. Blanc has much less faith in the system at the end of Glass Onion. Yet, just as Marta Cabrera maintains his faith in the salvageable goodness of humanity, so too does another character in Glass Onion. Without giving too much away, it’s this character that gives the film its emotional core, preventing it from veering into the extremes of comedy and tragedy.

The film has its moments visually, as well. As in Knives Out, many clues are hidden in plain sight, and keen-eyed viewers can pick past the most dexterous of Johnson’s cinematographic maneuvers if they know what they’re looking for. The “Mona Lisa,” bought by Miles to bail out a sinking Louvre, is a visual mainstay of the film, and it sets up both the ending reversal and the final shot beautifully. (And that final shot is up there with that from Knives Out, though it’s maybe not quite as satisfying.)

Nathan Johnson’s music is also standout, with lush strings and delightfully twangy harpsichord. It’s unique, but it remains grounded in the “whodunit” genre. Two themes in particular stand out: the main theme, sweeping and grand and just slightly tinged with darkness, and “Andi’s Theme,” a darker, more somber piece whose opening arpeggios are reminiscent of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. As in any film, the music provides subtle hints about characters and events, and for those looking to unravel the mystery before Blanc, paying attention to musical cues could pay rich dividends.

Last but not least, the performances, like those in Knives Out, are also memorable. Monáe, especially, stands out, shining in a role that takes fortitude to play. Craig brings Blanc’s kindness, intelligence, and figurative language back (the donut hole in Knives Out becomes the heart of the onion in Glass Onion), while adding a little more goofiness into the mix—indeed, the first scene opens with him sitting in the bathtub, playing Among Us with friends from work. The performances are a little more exuberant, a little more over-the-top, than those in Knives Out, but so is everything else in the movie, from the score to the colors to the cinematography. Everything is bigger, wider, more sweeping, and that’s intentional, according to a Wired interview with Johnson: “It’s an honest reflection of what it feels like to be alive right now and paying attention to these people. It needs to be ridiculous because they are ridiculous, you know?”

Ridiculous or not, Glass Onion is, undoubtedly, entertaining—and really, isn’t that the point? Settle down with a bowl of popcorn and buckle up. It’s going to be quite a ride.

Rated PG-13.