Chantal Akerman’s Golden Eighties is a lovely, charming, and effervescent film that takes on Western consumerism, patriarchal norms, and the ways women are socialized – all with a delightful series of songs and dances. The film almost plays as if Akerman is doing her send-up of Jacques Demy’s cinema – taking the earnest longing you find in Demy’s oeuvre and playing it all as broadly as possible. But if it’s a send-up, it’s made with love and tenderness. The musical numbers are delightfully outrageous, the comedy pitch-perfect. Working within a tight budget, you can see Akerman using everything she can to get in the razzle-dazzle of ‘80s musicals – her meticulous and precise framing transforming her small soundstage into an expansive shopping mall set-piece. And as light and fluffy and the film first appears, Akerman infuses the narrative with a stinging critique on capitalism and the constant movement toward expansion as every chance for human connection is interrupted by customers and the business of commerce. Add to this a sense that the men in this film are all callow dreamers filled with empty promises, and you have Akerman using the musical form for a pointed political commentary wrapped up in surprisingly sweet confection.