Hurry Up Tomorrow
by George Wolf
After the chaotic mess that was The Idol, it would have been easy for Abel Tesfaye (aka The Weeknd) to craft Hurry Up Tomorrow as a safely commercial extension of his new album.
To his credit, he doesn’t, and having Trey Edward Shults as his director and co-writer is the first sign that Tresfaye is after something more challenging. He gets that something, though it often frustrates more than it satisfies.
Tesfaye plays himself as a troubled superstar on tour. The crowds are huge and adoring, but a phone message (voiced by Riley Keough) accuses Abel of being a horrible, self-absorbed person, and his personal demons are taking such a toll on his voice that a doctor prescribes immediate rest. Abel’s manager Lee (Barry Keoghan) shrugs it off, assuring the star he is “invincible.”
A backstage meeting with the mysterious Anima (Jenna Ortega) leads to a day of fun and some lifted spirits, but it soon becomes obvious her very dangerous past may repeat itself in Abel’s very immediate future.
Early on, the skilled Shults (Krisha, It Comes at Night, Waves) brings some Gaspar Noé immersion vibes, rolling out cascades of pulsing music and flashing lights, extended takes and minimal dialog. But as this finally gives way to a thriller narrative that has echoes of Misery, the self-awareness of Keough’s accusations can’t save the film from the weight of self indulgence.
Ortega and Keoghan bring their usual sparks, enough to highlight Tresfaye’s limited acting range – though he is in fine voice. But despite the film’s overall ambition, the themes here are too old and familiar. And though Hurry Up Tomorrow can be visually interesting, the story it tells is never compelling, and only The Weeknd superfans should be hurrying out to see it.
