Rudolf Steiner founded antroposophy, not theosophy. That’s the only glitch in Olivier Assayas‘s Personal Shopper, an otherwise slick, informed millennial take on the demon within, and ghosts, in general. What they are, where they hide, and when they appear. Twinship plays a big part in this one too, as Kristen Stewart fidgets her way through her onscreen twin’s death, thirsting for final contact, in lieu of their lifetime pact, while shopping for clothes for someone famous, for a living. Every gadget imaginable is put in service as deus ex machina to push the narrative further, in a semi-detached, casual way, as you would expect in a glossy millennial ghost story that wants to take itself seriously and not seriously at the same time. And if it seems that I’m mocking it’s faux relaxed demeanour, it’s because I am. I was entirely indifferent to it’s pretty surface. But I did dig its soul. And in a story about apparitions, that’s the main dish.