Trey Edward Shults’ latest film proves that he is a one hit wonder who is high on his own supply and is bandying in the most basic bitch, overwrought, faux deep, artsy fartsy films. “Hurry Up Tomorrow” (2025) accompanies The Weeknd’s sixth album with the same name released earlier this year. While an allegedly fictionalized The Weeknd (Abel Tesfaye) is on tour, he receives a voicemail message that sends him reeling. His manager and friend, Lee (Barry Keoghan), dissuades him from getting distracted or depressed, but the second day, The Weeknd is barely functional so when he meets Anima (Jenna Ortega), a volatile woman, he connects with her and is unaware of how much danger he is in. Will he ever tell the truth and be himself?
I only watched “Hurry Up Tomorrow” because I have been following Shults’ career, and it is often a hate watch. His best film is “Krisha” (2015) and now this may be his worse with “It Comes at Night” (2017) being a close second in Shults’ race to the bottom. I like The Weeknd’s music enough not to always turn to the next selection when streaming on Pandora (what is a radio) or occasionally listen to an entire song. I could be the wrong person to judge this movie, but I am perfect for the job if you are like me wondering if two queens are getting together for a joint slay. Spoiler alert: no. As an acolyte to The Weeknd’s craft, there is one scene that encapsulates the experience of watching this movie: when Anima starts playing The Weeknd’s music to him, and he reacts as if she is torturing him with blunt or sharp objects. Same, girl, same.
In any movie where music is integral to the plot, I should want to listen to the soundtrack, and nope. It is the second time in less than seven days (the first was “The Life of Chuck”) where I found myself yearning for the original Michael Jackson, not the cheap knockoff that thinks they are amazing for delivering a diluted version, which may not have been The Weeknd’s intention, but “Wake Me Up” (not before “you go go”) sounds like “Thriller,” and it is played twice. Also here is an unintentionally, but possibly insensitive remark, but as someone who does not sing, it is a genuine, not mean-spirited, question. Someone like Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, etc. would have a strain on their voice, but The Weeknd with his dulcet light voice unable to sing his notes? Really? No one is expecting him to shatter glass. His vocal styling seems like a light lift though nightly use could be stressful. His vocal health, which inspired the “Hurry Up Tomorrow,” is a big plot point, and it unintentionally became the most absurd part of the movie because the doctor and Lee had to basically clue him in that his performance issues are obviously psychological. Duh. Has The Weeknd heard himself? He is like a whisper of a voice, which is lovely, but, come on, be serious. The music in the previews is better with its incessant, emphatic beat. Is that his music? More of that please and thank you.
If I did not know that The Weeknd was a big deal, I would be giving him the Saleka Shyamalan treatment for not being credible as a major stadium filling star. The point is for the protagonist to come down from being a god and return to his human self, but they start “Hurry Up Tomorrow” with him already a shaky, sweaty mess. “Smile 2” (2024) wore it better. It is rare to have an actual performing artist be such a weak actor. Even Justin Timberlake pulled it off, and The Weeknd is supposed to playing himself. Naomi Scott needs to diversify her business and administer tests to make sure that they are ready to be in movies then deliver lessons if they are not. The Weeknd did not hold up his half of the world. The tour was likely recorded during The Weeknd’s actual tour, “After Hours Til Dawn 2025 Stadium Tour.” Worst infomercial ever. The TikTok ad was better.
Most of the action occurring in “Hurry Up Tomorrow” is probably in the protagonist’s head and not real. How many hotels are letting petite women totie gasoline tanks sloshing over the brim with flammable liquid through their lobby and taking the elevator? The Overlook would never. Lee and Anima are fighting for the protagonist’s soul. Lee knew him as a person and supports the idea of propping up the party boy side with delusions of grandeur. Keoghan’s “Saltburn” (2023) success seems like a curse now. He used to take roles that felt titanic and unsettling, but now maybe he is deliberately taking it easy and playing characters that are variations of tabloid rumors of his life on screen. The soft life sounds good right about now so no judgment. Lee loves the life that the protagonist’s stardom affords, and he deserves credit for putting as much of his life, financial and time, on the line to believe in his friend.
Anima is introduced in a vacuum: burning down a house with gasoline and fleeing the scene with a sense of urgency to attend the protagonist’s concert. She only stops to refill that gas tank at a gas station pilfering it from an unsuspecting convenience store operator. When she is onscreen, if her lips are moving it is usually a lie. At the concert, she is the only one who catches the protagonist’s eye, and Ortega projects on her face a gradual dawning as if she sees into his soul. She is not just starstruck but sees the human being inside. Their time together ends with him tied up to a bed, doused with gasoline and her brandishing a lighter so while cowriters Shults, Reza Fahim, Shults and The Weeknd in their feature film writing debut are deliberating using Anima as the personification of the Jungian concept of the muse, the inner feminine side of the protagonist who is helping him on an uncomfortable, life threatening individuating journey to wholeness, which they (checks notes) see as good thing, they use the visual and narrative language of famous film stalker women characters like Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates) from “Misery” (1990) and Alex Forrest (Glenn Close) from “Fatal Attraction” (1987). “Hurry Up Tomorrow” makes the mistake of conflating how moviegoers see “Hurry Up Tomorrow” with the protagonist’s subjective lens. To him, it feels like a threat, but her fire is actually cleansing and returns him to his younger, more innocent self, which is where the music comes from. For this to work, she needs to seem less like a dangerous psycho and more sympathetic so we can understand that he believes that she is a threat while simultaneously understanding that she means good. It may decrease tension points, but if The Weeknd wants everyone to buy into Tesfaye, the film needs to make it seem like a good thing on some level.
Excuse me while I puke. Even though I understand what the writing team was going for, it did not resonate. Schults has never been good with knowing where horror elements should begin and end. “Hurry Up Tomorrow” proves that he learned nothing from “It Comes at Night,” and he has ruined blurred red and blue lights for everyone. It also does not help that the cathartic moment when the protagonist finally embraces the truth and blows away Anima is the weakest song in the entire movie. Here he is singing for his life, and that song, the titular song, is the one that tames the pyromaniac groupie!?! That’s the truth. Is the truth in the room with you? Did Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson shouting at each other mean nothing to you!?!
Here is an assignment: if there is a film critic who is also a huge fan of The Weeknd who has analyzed Tesfaye’s work from 2011 through now and wants to make the argument that “Hurry Up Tomorrow” is brilliant, I’ll read it with an open mind. Schults and The Weeknd need to stick to music videos and stay away from features. Ortega’s check better be huge. This film has nothing unique, interesting or innovative to say about the pressures of fame on the real person behind the persona. If anything, it just confirms how slight the real person is behind the mask—on no, a man uses women and runs away from substance. Florals in spring, baby! This movie leaves everyone begging The Wizard of Oz to go back behind the curtain and stick to his tricks. This is not a compliment: for me, it is another “Inception” (2010).
