In Hurry Up Tomorrow, director Trey Edward Shults collaborates with The Weeknd for a stylized look into fame, heartbreak, and disconnection. The film stars The Weeknd as Abel Tesfaye, a fictionalized version of himself, alongside Jenna Ortega as Anima, a mysterious young woman who suddenly enters his life from her fandom. What follows is touted as a psychological thriller, but plays more like a cinematic dud.
The story begins with two parallel lives. Abel is a successful but emotionally broken pop singer on tour known as The Weeknd. He indulges in drugs and excess provided by his manager Lee (Barry Keoghan), while reeling from a breakup with an unnamed ex who won’t return his calls. At the same time, Anima, a distant and unreadable figure, is introduced as someone who earlier torched her childhood home. She attends The Weeknd’s concert and falls into this world of celebrity worship and fandom. As Abel spirals further into his self-loathing, he sees Anima as just another groupie.
The film continues as the two head back to his hotel room with dream sequences and hallucinatory visions of Abel and Anima’s lives blend together. He becomes convinced she’s become too clingy, leading to a third act where she drugs and ties him to a bed, delivering a haunting monologue about abuse and trauma.
“dream sequences and hallucinatory visions as Abel and Anima’s lives blend together.”
Here’s the problem: for a movie that wants to say something deep about pain and redemption, it refuses to be understood. The biggest issue is that I believed that Anima was Abel’s ex-girlfriend for far too long. Was it my fault that I also made this connection? No! Instead, I have to reframe the entire film to incorporate the ramifications of this faulty assumption.
In addition, the characters have very little depth to them. Scenes of anguish and despair are stretched for the sake of “art” and filled with long, torturous sequences that test the viewer’s patience rather than build emotional resonance. They do make for a great bathroom break, though.
Visually, the film looks incredible…for an art film. That said, I was annoyed by the constant use of the spinning 180 camera every time someone was in a car. The cinematography is experimental and surreal. You can see that Shults is a talented director, especially in the way he uses light, sound, and composition. But the script is dreadful, and The Weeknd’s acting is stiff and one-note. Jenna Ortega, while always watchable, is given so little to work with that her performance feels like she’s drifting through the film rather than anchoring it. It’s experimental filmmaking that mistakes opacity for substance.
Ultimately, Hurry Up Tomorrow is an example of style over substance. Its visuals try to shock and awe while leaving its narrative a confusing mess. Unless you’re a diehard fan of The Weeknd or Ortega, there’s very little here to recommend. It’s a film that wants to say something profound but gets lost in its own aesthetic tunnel.
"…style over substance."
