Paired with a toupee-ed Adam Driver and the famously Italian Lady Gaga as the devious protagonists, “House of Gucci” had the perfect recipe for something diabolically magical. The lore of the Gucci dynasty became a buoyant trove, so easy to sell that it seemed predestined for success on the silver screen. The trailers depicted a punchy tale of glamour, sex, fashion, pasta and, most importantly, murder. Maybe it was just the overpriced movie theater wine, but “House of Gucci” seemed like a film determined to become a sensation.Īt least, that’s what was promised in the barrage of advertising. There was a palpable electricity in the air when I sat down to watch Ridley Scott’s directorial take on the infamous Gucci family murders.
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