Hurry Up Tomorrow: An Excruciating Vanity Project

For over a decade, Abel Tesfaye, better known as The Weeknd, has been one of the most dominant forces in music. With record-breaking streaming numbers, sold-out stadium tours, and multiple classic albums, he’s carved out a place as a global pop icon whose music will likely withstand the test of time. Despite his immense success within the music sphere, Tesfaye has always pushed to reinvent himself as an artist. Since his brief cameo as himself in 2019’s Uncut Gems, directed by the Safdie Brothers, Tesfaye has gradually stepped into the world of film and television. Having revealed himself to be a cinephile, his recent transition into acting and being a creative force behind the production of both film and television isn’t entirely surprising. However, just because Tesfaye has a passion for film, doesn’t mean he necessarily has the skill to back it up.

Tesfaye’s first major screen effort, HBO’s The Idol, directed by Sam Levinson, was widely panned and left a dent on his public image. Many found the series to be deeply problematic, misogynistic, and poorly written. His lead performance didn’t garner much enthusiasm either, with many claiming he had no talent as an actor. Now, he returns to the screen with Hurry Up Tomorrow, a feature film tied to his latest album of the same name in which he stars and has co-written the script, along with director Trey Edward Shults and Reza Fahim. Unfortunately, the film is yet another horrific misfire in every conceivable way.

Attempting to describe Hurry Up Tomorrow is not an easy task. Here, Tesfaye portrays a heightened version of his persona, a world-famous pop star spiraling emotionally while on tour. Grappling with heartbreak after his longtime girlfriend leaves him, he  leaned heavily on alcohol and pleading with his manager Lee (Keoghan) to win her back. Meanwhile, audiences also meet Anima (Ortega), a troubled young woman who burns down her home and hits the road, eventually finding herself at one of The Weeknd’s concerts. Following a public breakdown on stage, he retreats backstage, but not before locking eyes with her in the crowd where they share a brief moment of connection. Compelled by that connection, Anima jumps the barricade and follows him, only for him to invite her to spend the evening with him, which she agrees to. What begins as a spontaneous, intimate encounter quickly descends into something much darker, as The Weeknd’s self-destructive behavior collides with her intense attachment issues.

Now to call Hurry Up Tomorrow a vanity project would be putting it lightly. The film exists primarily to deconstruct Tesfaye’s persona, but rather than offering real vulnerability or insight, it is merely a hollow and obnoxious exercise in self-mythologizing. The tortured-artist narrative it pushes never lands, and ironically, it makes Tesfaye feel even more distant and less relatable than he already did. Shults, known for emotionally charged and visually inventive films like Waves, seems lost here. While the film attempts to be a groundbreaking sensory experience with elaborate visuals and a pulsating soundtrack, it ultimately plays like a muddled experiment with little emotional depth or narrative cohesion. While some shots are undeniably striking, others come off as amateurish, more like a shallow imitation of surrealism than the real thing.

Performance-wise, Tesfaye simply doesn’t hold his own. Even playing a version of himself, he comes across as stiff, guarded, and unnatural. Opposite him, Ortega throws herself into Anima and takes the material seriously, but even her dedication can’t save this project. Whenever she isn’t on screen, the film becomes almost unbearable, reduced to Tesfaye and Keoghan doing drugs and complaining about the supposed hardships of being a popstar. Ortega, at least, attempts to bring a much-needed sense of depth, and even when she’s caught in some of the film’s more baffling or unintentionally laughable moments toward the end, her magnetic presence remains far more compelling than anything her co-stars delivers.

Tesfaye’s love of film is evident, and while ambition to branch out of music and try his hand at working within film is admirable, Hurry Up Tomorrow feels like a useless vanity project. It is too strange and incoherent for most fans to find anything of value within it, and it is far too self-indulgent and superficial to win over critics or cinephiles. The film is simply a misfire on nearly every conceivable level and will likely go down as one of the biggest cinematic failures of 2025.

Score: 12/100

still courtesy of Lionsgate

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Tristan French