Look. Lucrecia Martel is a genius. She's 3-for-3 on the features. So it's not really a problem that the recent film is a remake. Add the creaky woo-woo haunting stuff, spare a dab of fashionable class consciousness, subtract the modernist flat space and free indirect narration, and you get this:
It's not a problem because Opening Night is itself haunted by yet another ghost.
Not her.
But by this guy...
