"Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery" has even more layers to peel back than its predecessor,
but Kentucky-fried detective Benoit Blanc doesn't
provide all the answers by the time the credits roll.
As the pieces of the puzzle come together, it's revealed that Andi — not Miles — was the
keystone of this friend group whose connection dates back to their young adulthood. In fact,
Miles was the annoying, awkward outcast who was late to join the group at the Glass Onion bar.
Andi's stamp of approval is what gained a person admittance into the club,
so Miles doesn't just have Andi to thank for the idea he stole,
he owes his entire social life to her. What's more, he isn't the only one.
In a flashback, "Glass Onion" shows that Miles, with Andi's okay, enabled this morally-pliable
group of misfits to reach for the stars — and it worked. Birdie Jay became a cover girl and fashion
designer. Claire became a governor. Lionel became a top scientist. Duke became a YouTube celebrity.
But how did they do it? Was it just money and influence? Were their careers just bought
and paid for? Or were Miles and Andi actively managing their careers and feeding them ideas?
After Andi's death, they're all floundering. Lionel is starting to suspect that eccentric
billionaire Miles is actually an idiot. Birdie's in over her head producing her apparel line.
Claire is beholden to her dark money campaign funders. Without Andi keeping them honest and
on track, her "disruptor" friends are shown to be merely incompetent, if not corrupt.
The infighting and paranoia between this closed circle of friends can be traced back to a single
napkin from the Glass Onion bar, upon which Andi had scribbled ideas for a tech startup. Andi and
Miles went on to found that company together, and their joint venture grew into something so
lucrative and broad in scope, it’s experimenting with a new kind of renewable energy called Klear.
Arguments over whether to take Klear to market caused the rift between Andi
and Miles. Andi could see that it was too dangerous and unstable in its current form,
and could bring down their business, if not the world.
When Andi wants out, who possesses the napkin and what, exactly, is written on it
becomes a life-or-death legal issue. "Glass Onion" provides closure to that mystery,
but it doesn't tell us much about what Andi, Miles, and their company originally did. The
closest we get is Jake Tapper on CNN hinting that Alpha ultimately became
a blend of SpaceX, Tesla, and Amazon, with an "Alpha News" network attached.
"... the ubiquitous tech giant, Alpha, which now has dozens of companies,
from Alpha Cosmos to Alpha Car, Alpha Shop …"
It's not essential to the plot for viewers to know, but in an age when Silicon Valley
CEOs believe themselves capable of anything, it would've been fun to find
out about Andi's innovations and how they really made their fortunes starting out.
We meet Birdie Jay when everyone is supposed to be social distancing. Birdie, however,
is throwing a crowded glitzy party with her alleged "pod," sans any COVID mitigations
whatsoever. She's coded as a self-absorbed, superficial socialite who considers herself to
be above the law. Birdie is all those things, and for much of "Glass Onion's" runtime,
viewers are left to wonder if she might be capable of murder, too.
But, as it turns out, her biggest crime is that she just isn't smart enough to
run a fashion label. Relatively early on, Miles lets Peg know that Birdie's
in his debt and he expects her to take the fall for some scandal.
The real scandal is Andi's murder, but there's also the matter of her clothing line,
which uses inhumane labor practices and slave wages to keep profits high. This information is
about to go public, and rather than have both of their reputations take the hit,
Miles wants Birdie to assume full responsibility.
She is to blame, but not necessarily because she's an evil capitalist. When a corporate memo
warned the factory they were about to subcontract was a sweatshop, Birdie Jay misunderstood this.
"Please tell me you did not think sweatshops are where they make sweatpants."
Miles had Birdie all but convinced to confess to
the press, but with those police boats approaching,
it's unclear if Birdie still plans to come clean — or if she'll pin her mistake on the murderer.
From the moment Birdie Jay receives her invitation, to the moment the police arrive via
boat at the film's end, put-upon Peg is there helping her rich and famous boss to function.
She's just as invested in the sweatshop debacle, because if Birdie goes down, she loses her job.
While the audience doesn't know how much Peg makes or how well Birdie Jay treats her,
it seems like the gig comes with perks, like a trip to Greece, and frustrations,
like having to explain what a sweatshop is to an adult who happens to be your superior.
Flamboyant life of the party Birdie is probably fun to be around. Though
there's an obvious class difference between them, Birdie does seem to appreciate Peg,
and she is never shown to act with outright cruelty toward her. Being
the personal assistant to a B-list celebrity wasn't her dream, but it must be fulfilling
enough if she doesn't want the work to dry up if Birdie should get canceled.
Still, from time to time in "Glass Onion," Peg looks and sounds as if she's over this
lifestyle and ready to move on and put her abilities toward something less frivolous.
Just as it’s unknown if Birdie took the fall for the human rights-abusing fashion label,
it’s unknown if Peg stuck with her through the murder mystery weekend's dramatic conclusion.
When Whiskey first arrives on screen, audiences might assume she's little more
than Duke's most recent fling. After all, he's a men's rights activist and there's a
noticeable age difference between the couple. But Whiskey is quickly revealed to be a woman
very much in charge of her own narrative, as well as something of a double agent.
When she cozies up with Miles as Duke peeps through a bedroom window,
seemingly devastated, it seems her true self is emerging. But in the wake of Duke's death,
it becomes clear that she and her not-so-jealous boyfriend were in cahoots. They thought that
if Whiskey could seduce Miles, she could convince him to promote both
of their brands with his new 24-hour media enterprise, garnering them more followers.
While Whiskey is upset that Duke's dead, the savvy aspiring influencer is the type
of person who looks out for number one. It would be interesting to see how she spins
the sure-to-be-newsworthy story of her boyfriend's murder into more star power.
At some point, Claire DeBella was an altruistic person who got into politics for the right
reasons. The film gives viewers the sense that in the early days of her friendship with Andi,
she was someone who wanted to affect change and would've balked at the idea of taking bribes
or voting in favor of special interests at the expense of the people she sought to represent.
"You know, soccer mom in beige throwing grenades into machine politics."
But campaign finance laws are campaign finance laws, and Governor Claire DeBella
is under the thumbs of her funders, namely Miles and the various industries
that would stand to profit if government regulators give Klear the, well, all-clear.
From her anxious, cagey behavior and her whispered conversations with Lionel,
it is apparent that Claire isn't thrilled to be in this position. She knows Klear's
a disaster waiting to happen and she knows that the money she's accepting is tainted.
During the events of "Glass Onion," she's currently locked in a tight race
for the United States Senate, and if she doesn't support Miles — both in getting
his energy source Congress's approval and in staying quiet about the napkin
and Andi's murder — he and his cronies will pull their support of her candidacy.
Viewers might wonder, what would Claire do as governor or senator if corrupt oligarchs
weren't pulling her strings? Does the arrest of Miles finally free her to
lead and legislate as she truly would? To do that, she'd have to win her election,
and "Glass Onion" ends abruptly, without comment.
Andi split from her business partner Miles because she thought he was flying too close
to the sun with his ambition to make Klear a viable replacement for oil,
coal, and gas. Had it truly been viable, Andi would've stayed on board,
but she knew that the substance wasn't just potentially deadly, but imminently deadly.
In the film's opening sequence, as the puzzle box invitations of Miles are being delivered
to his invited guests, viewers can tell he is putting intense pressure on Lionel to
have a breakthrough, or to at least make it look like he's had a breakthrough.
He confesses as much to Claire in the pool, but it is unclear if he's motivated by protecting
consumers or his position. It seems safe to assume that Lionel — a research scientist — is
a smart guy. He must realize that, even if his employer strong-arms him into acting as Klear's
credibility cover, his reputation will suffer once it shows itself to be a catastrophic failure.
At the end of "Glass Onion," Lionel seems to think that Helen has done them all a favor by exposing
Miles and his deeply flawed discovery. But it's unclear whether the company, which is bigger
than Miles is, put the brakes on the planned release of their supposedly game changing energy
product. Klear could make an appearance or become a running joke in future Benoit Blanc mysteries.
The characters in the first "Knives Out" are the types of entitled elites who aren't accustomed to
facing consequences. As the mystery unfolds, for the first time in some of their lives, they do.
But the hypocritical phonies and white collar criminals in "Glass Onion" wield
more power and influence than the mere upper class publishing family of "Knives
Out." Miles Bron in particular belongs to an entirely different class of entitled elite.
When Helen sits at the water's edge and sees the red and blue lights of the police boats blinking,
it's implied that Miles will pay for his crimes. By the end of "Glass Onion," his rap sheet has
gotten longer. Not only did he steal Andi's idea, he poisoned her and framed her death
as a suicide. He killed Duke via his allergic reaction to his mixed drink. He attempted to
kill Helen. He indirectly destroyed the Mona Lisa by circumventing its security measures. He was
also about to launch a product that would've caused damage and death on an untold scale.
Miles is probably going away for a long time,
even if it seems likely that after the credits rolled, this weaselly credit-taker
and his retained lawyers attempt every trick in the book to escape liability.
The key to unlocking the mystery at the center of "Glass Onion" is the epiphany
that Janelle Monáe is playing dual roles as identical twin sisters, Andi and Helen Brand.
"My name is Helen Brand, and I came all the way here from Alabama."
While Andi can be seen in flashbacks, in the present timeline, every instance in
which the movie makes viewers feel they're watching Andi, they are actually watching
Helen impersonating her dead sister — no small feat for the working class, small town mom.
While Andi and Helen appear to have had a good sisterly relationship,
their paths diverged about as much as twins' lives could. Power player Andi
was a poised and polished globetrotter, while Helen leads an exceedingly normal
life in comfortable clothes, with her regional accent still intact.
Benoit Blanc correctly deduces that bringing Helen, cosplaying as Andi,
will be the ultimate disruption to the disruptors' murder mystery affair,
though at great risk to himself and the impostor sister. They pull off their scheme,
thanks to Jeremy Renner's hot sauce, Helen's bravery, and the stupidity of Miles.
Presumably, Helen will be able to prove in court that Andi was the originator of the
napkin idea and that Miles killed her (and Duke) to prevent that information from coming out,
which raises the question: What happens next for Helen? Will she inherit some or all of her
late sister's fortune? Will she do something different with her newfound notoriety? Will
she continue to partner with Blanc, now that she's proven herself to be a savvy sleuth?