Since “Gucci” was shot during the pandemic this spring, the omission of many crowd scenes is certainly comprehensible - but that doesn’t mean their lost impact isn’t felt. For a sense of the brand and family’s provenance (“it’s a family company,” many member-shareholders insist), we need to see people worshipping at their altar - but bereft of that, the film’s flashy pantheon is left largely without believers or even notable detractors. Wealth isn’t just a state but a performance, and its icons need to be seen for their full state of potency to be realized. (The disco, at least, looks fine.) For “Gucci,” this absence is a problem, for fashion empires are built on foundations of reception and of taste, and the film loses much for lacking a sense of the society its characters operate in. In a film that ought rightly to have no fewer than four Italo-disco scenes, six runway sequences, and five or six house parties at minimum, no more than a couple of each are to be found here. While some will surely differ here, I can’t say that the consciously operatic “Gucci” answers to these prayers.
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