The title Hurry Up Tomorrow is incredibly appropriate—because the entire time I was watching it, I just wanted it to hurry up and end. Calling this a “film” is generous; surviving it felt more like a cinematic endurance test.
The plot is laughably shallow, padded with so much pointless fluff that the pacing is downright painful. Abel Tesfaye, a.k.a. The Weeknd, essentially plays himself—and not well. His acting is so stiff, it’s almost impressive. Sharing scenes with Jenna Ortega only makes it worse; she effortlessly outshines him at every turn, making his performance look like a high school drama rehearsal.
To make matters worse, the whole movie is drenched in ego. There’s a scene—I’m not making this up—where Jenna’s character actually analyzes the deep themes of his music. It tries to present itself as some kind of profound artistic statement, but really, it’s just a 100-minute commercial for his new album.
Abel, please—stick to your day job.
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