‘Hurry Up Tomorrow’: A Star’s Dream Project, or Just a Dream?
If you walked into The Weeknd's new film, 'Hurry Up Tomorrow', hoping for a gripping, heartfelt drama, you might leave feeling more dazed than moved. Directed by Trey Edward Shults, the movie puts Abel Tesfaye (The Weeknd) not just in the starring role, but at the center of the whole production—he’s also co-writer and, of course, the inspiration. Even the movie’s name twins with his latest album. But personality doesn’t always equal substance, and that’s where a lot of critics are getting stuck.
The storyline drops us in the blurry, restless world of a famous musician—the fictionalized Abel Tesfaye—who’s battling insomnia, haunted by his past, and spiraling deeper each night. Jenna Ortega plays Anima, a mysterious figure guiding him through this nightmarish, half-awake odyssey, while Barry Keoghan delivers a sharp performance as Lee, the constantly-pressuring manager. On paper, these are intriguing roles. The film seems ready to tackle big, messy topics: fame, regret, trauma, and the all-consuming cost of stardom. But something gets lost in translation from script to screen.
First off, the film leans hard on visuals. Shults chops the narrative up with frantic editing and dream logic, hoping to suck viewers into Abel’s anxiety and restlessness. You get nightclubs melting into empty hotel corridors, rapid flashes of painful childhood memories, and surreal meetings with Anima, who seems to pop up just as the main character’s grip on reality slips. The soundtrack, heavy on moody synth and echoes, adds more haze. All these tricks set the right mood, sure, but they can’t patch over thin character work. Most of the time, you’re left watching Tesfaye’s character stumble through scenes looking (understandably) exhausted—but not especially complex or relatable.
The attempts to dive deep—like the recurring theme of reconnecting with an ex-girlfriend through endless voicemails—end up feeling repetitive. Viewers get glimpses of a traumatic past, but there’s so little emotional layering that it’s tough to care. Barry Keoghan tries to inject some life into the proceedings as the protective but impatient manager, but he doesn’t have much to work with—his role never moves beyond being a stressed handler, overwhelmed by Tesfaye’s chaos.
Jenna Ortega, who’s also one of the producers, glides through the story with an otherworldly vibe. Her character, Anima, is clearly vital to the lead’s journey of self-discovery, but the script leaves her more like a symbol than a living, breathing person. She’s the classic mysterious muse, ushering Tesfaye’s character through psychedelic therapy sessions and confrontations with old wounds, but without depth, her impact feels muted.
The film gets tricky with time and memory, pushing a nonlinear plot with a sense of mystery that feels more confusing than intentional. A lot of scenes drag out, circling the same themes without really moving the story along. It’s as if Shults and Tesfaye wanted viewers to feel endlessly stuck—but instead of sharing in the character’s pain, you might just get bored. It’s a style that critics say echoes the frustrating tone of The Weeknd’s HBO show 'The Idol', which was also panned for self-indulgence before being canceled after one season.
In the background, you can see why this movie might have felt urgent for its creators: Abel Tesfaye using film to process his personal history; an acclaimed director taking creative risks; a hot young cast looking for something different. But 'Hurry Up Tomorrow' ultimately doesn’t peel back the layers on fame, trauma, or personal crisis. It just circles them, beautifully but aimlessly, hiding real feeling behind swoony visuals and a cold, experimental soundtrack. For fans of The Weeknd’s persona, it’s another moody meditation. For everyone else, it’s a film that feels a little too in love with its own misery, without giving us much to hold onto.
