[The following essay contains MINOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]
In Edgar Wright’s Last Night in Soho, ghosts are real. Skeptics may dismiss the visions “sensitives” as drug-induced hallucinations or symptoms of mental illness, but Thomasin McKenzie’s Eloise Turner knows the truth: spirits haunt the present. Echoes of their trauma linger in mirrors and darkened alleys—and if you’re not careful, their sirens’ call will lure you back to the past and drown you in a flood of painful memories.
Yet the specters that Ellie encounters are not actively malevolent; they are merely reflections—shadowy imprints left behind by the indignities they suffered in life. The real monsters are far more mundane in nature—the men who exploit, torment, and discard the most vulnerable of their fellow human beings in the name of profit and pleasure.
Ultimately, nightmares are harmless. True horror transpires in the waking world.
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