Hurry Up Tomorrow

Third act was very much like Misery, yet it becomes apparent that Anima was a part of his imagination. This movie served a purpose to show how TheWeeknds’ music has affected him when, he has to face the moments and memories that created these songs. Something he has rarely or never have done, I just felt the pacing of the movie left me asking myself “what is this movie about” through the first two acts. Felt like very little dialogue.
4
5/10

'Hurry Up Tomorrow' isn't a movie that I found any enjoyment in. Jenna Ortega is the only plus for it that I do hold, her performance is solid and the most watchable part of this 2025 release; early on, with the seperated viewpoints, it was like night and day in terms of interest.

Barry Keoghan is another star name attached, though his character is quite forgettable; at least until the end. Abel Tesfaye (aka The Weeknd; his latest album serves as the movie's soundtrack) is the film's lead, this is my first time seeing him act and he's alright, I guess, just not all that interesting a role.

I do like that musician's major hits, "Blinding Lights" is a banger and its usage here is very good to be fair (probably the standout scene); no use, though, of "Starboy", which is probably my favourite track of his. I do think he has some potential to be a decent actor, I see some glimpses.

All in all, I can't say that I had a positive time with this. It didn't truly annoy me, but I was certainly happy to see the credits. It does set its atmosphere fairly well and has some neat camera work, but I'm kinda have to reach to give it praise - never a good sign.

I almost got to see this one in an empty cinema, on UK release day no less (ouch). Two others arrived late and left early (double ouch), so technically it happened I guess. Big fan of watching films on the big screen by myself, even if it's obviously not great for the film or cinema.

Really strange movie. Abel just wanted to play his concert. I wasted over 90 minutes to see Jenna Ortega dance barefoot for 10 minutes. The Weeknd is a great singer but this movie wasn't easy to watch.

It's like that song with Playboi Carti on the album: strong vibes but completely dull and basic, especially if you're over the age of 15. This is a really shallow exploration of celebrity, ego and fandom, hinting at interesting ideas here and there but unwilling to develop anything to the point where it becomes emotionally resonant. The touches of surrealism read like baby's first Lynch, it's laughable in how obvious and creatively bankrupt it feels. I'm generally a fan of Trey Edward Shults (_Waves_ in particular) and I just couldn't believe how bad a lot his directorial calls are here, especially in regards to dialogue and pacing. He still creates an interesting, synthy aesthetic that occasionally reminded me of the Safdie brothers (_Good Time, Uncut Gems_), but everything else just feels off. Jenna Ortega does a fine job but Barry Keoghan is completely miscast. Meanwhile, Abel’s performance proves once again that he should probably stick to music, although if the Christian adult contemporary at the end of this film is meant to hint at his new artistic direction, fading from the spotlight he apparently hates so much wouldn't be such a bad idea. This is coming from someone who's generally a fan of his work and the songs used during this film, however the end result here is such a self-indulgent mess that I'd advise avoiding it at all cost.

3.5/10

With a whole lot of swirling colors, blurry focus, spinning camera shots, super close-ups, and tears, Hurry Up Tomorrow artfully rushes nowhere. The film feels extremely pretentious. There was a good story buried deep in there somewhere, but The Weeknd was just unable to find what he was looking for.

“Hurry Up Tomorrow” is one of those projects that clearly thinks it’s saying something deep and transformative, but really just ends up exposing its creator’s bloated ego and creative confusion. Directed by Trey Edward Shults in collaboration with Abel Tesfaye (The Weeknd), the film presents itself as an existential audiovisual experience, but in reality, it’s a long, pretentious trip of empty self-pity, packed with tired metaphors, obvious symbolism, and a near-narcissistic worship of its own image.

The script—co-written by Shults, Tesfaye, and Reza Fahim—falls apart at its most basic structure. The narrative drags with this stagnant pacing, like it’s constantly waiting for a big revelation that never actually comes. The main character (played by Tesfaye himself) spirals into a personal crisis after a breakup that exists only as a distant echo in a voice message from his ex (Riley Keough) at the beginning of the film. She’s more of a functional ghost, only there to kickstart his emotional collapse, and never becomes a real character. That same pattern repeats with pretty much everyone else in the movie—no one feels alive; they’re all just orbiting around this dying star at the center.

What could’ve been a raw portrait of an artist’s emotional downfall turns into a painfully long parade of scenes where nothing actually happens—aside from the film constantly reminding us how hard it is to be famous. The direction leans hard on worn-out visual gimmicks: endless rotating shots inside cars, close-ups glued to the sweaty face of the lead, film grain trying to give things an “organic” feel—and none of it serves any real narrative purpose. It’s all aesthetic flair trying to mask a hollow core. The movie might look like it belongs in the A24 world, but it completely lacks the emotional coherence or storytelling strength of that studio’s better work.

The recurring metaphor about losing one’s voice as a symbol for an identity crisis could’ve had some potential—if it weren’t hammered in so literally. And worse: Tesfaye can’t carry that arc in a meaningful way. His performance is flat, detached, stuck somewhere between lifeless and overly posed. The camera treats him like a god, but there’s just nothing to uncover. There’s no emotional depth, no real self-awareness—just a performance screaming “look how much I’m suffering” without ever making us feel that suffering.

Jenna Ortega shows up late in the game as a mysterious figure named Anima, injecting some much-needed energy into the third act. She plays an allegorical role—obsession, delusion, a warped reflection of fan devotion. Her performance is intense and magnetic, bringing to mind echoes of “Black Swan” and “Requiem for a Dream” in how her character takes over the screen. But even when the film finally stumbles into actual conflict, it immediately pulls back, too scared to go all in. The promised destruction—emotional, physical, symbolic—never really happens. The literal and metaphorical fire Tesfaye keeps alluding to doesn’t burn anything down. Everything stays intact, including his ego.

Even the soundtrack—made up of tracks from the companion album—fails to justify its role in the film. Instead of adding to the drama or elevating the scenes, the songs feel like half-baked music videos awkwardly wedged into the narrative. It reinforces the idea that “Hurry Up Tomorrow” isn’t really a movie at all—it’s more like a marketing piece dressed up as art. A rebrand disguised as a personal manifesto, but without the depth to stand as either.

All in all, “Hurry Up Tomorrow” is an exercise in vanity wrapped in the costume of indie cinema. It’s a movie that takes itself so seriously, it forgets to communicate anything that isn’t self-absorbed. A project that tries to burn down The Weeknd persona in front of us—but lacks the guts to actually let it go. If Abel Tesfaye truly wants to be reborn as a filmmaker, step one might be realizing that becoming a real artist in cinema takes more than stylized suffering and mirror tricks. It takes truth. And this film, well... it missed that mark by a mile.

Hopefully Jenna was there to save some frames!

Total waste of screen time. Not even worth my effort to write about it. Just read this one. Well said!

https://trakt.tv/comments/814679

"Hurry Up Tomorrow" is The Weeknd's fictionlized personal story that inspired his latest album. Despite some of the writing with dialogue and pacing of the film, the performances were stellar all around. Going into this film, the actors did say this would be stylized like a psychological thriller and it truly delivered. There's a ton of crazy imagery and lots of unique shots and camera movement throughout the film. The end (and the whole film really) leaves a lot for interpretation. The Weeknd has always been crafty with his work so it's no surprise the film delivers on his M.O. The film definitely feels catered to XO fans but also serves as an opportunity for people to learn more about Abel, the real man behind "The Weeknd."

Did it for Jenna. This Weekend guy is a narcisist, that just want to have a chance to be close to young female actors.