Hurry Up Tomorrow

Canadian singer/songwriter Abel Tesfaye aka The Weeknd has dominated the music charts for over a decade, combining his dark, noir-tinged R&B roots with his signature angelic voice to unprecedented levels of success. The singer, whose elusiveness led to many not knowing who exactly The Weeknd was during the release of his first mixtape “House of Balloons”, managed to break through the underground music scene with three separate mixtapes that would later be combined into the “Trilogy” album. These projects would prove to be incredibly influential, ushering in a new wave of R&B to the mainstream. Singing about his ongoing descent into self-destruction, toxicity and heartbreak, Tesfaye’s music has reached the heights very few artists have ever seen. His 2020 smash hit “Blinding Lights” from his “After Hours” album is the most streamed song in the history of the streaming era, not to mention his other songs in the top 20 of all time, “Starboy”, “Die For You” and “The Hills”. The Weeknd’s blend of bleak subject matter and dark lyrics with his godlike vocal register and pop-friendly grooves proved to be a revelation in the music scene, while using his cinephile background to enrich his storytelling through his music videos and albums.

His first foray into acting was met with near-universal ridicule in the failed HBO series The Idol. Despite appearing in a memorable cameo in Uncut Gems, his first true descent into cinema arrives with the semi-autobiographical film that shares the same name of his most recent album, which is poised be the final album under his “Weeknd” moniker. Loosely based off a true incident three years ago where Tesfaye lost his voice while performing on the final night of his tour, only to discover the problem stemmed psychologically due to self-imposed pressure and not from physical injury. Alongside indie filmmaker Trey Edward Schults, The Weeknd’s film-starring debut is far more sparse and minimal in its plotting, but heavy in its use of visual metaphors and symbolism. This is a cool, unique cinematic experience that offers something distinct for audiences craving originality.

Courtesy Lionsgate

Following a fictionalized version of Abel Tesfaye, known to the world as The Weeknd, his career is at a new high, playing sold out stadiums filled with adoring fans. His manager and childhood friend Lee (an electric Barry Keoghan) is by his side to pump up his ego and supply him with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol to keep him energized amidst his tour. However, Abel is in deep pain. He just got dumped by his unnamed girlfriend (a brief cameo by Riley Keough) who accuses him of being a horrible, manipulative person whose own mother would be ashamed of him and that he would be better off dead if he didn’t change his ways. Feeling isolated during his heartache, his voice is also straining him, causing even more stress. One night, after further spiraling into his self-destructive ways, his manager pushes him to perform the next show of his tour, despite Abel’s claims that he can’t sing. As he makes the fateful decision to go up on stage and perform in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans, his voice fails and he is unable to continue the show. During his breakdown on stage, he sees the mysterious super-fan Anima (Jenna Ortega, in a career-best performance) in the crowd. Abel immediately senses something comforting in her and the two run away together, away from Abel’s entourage and security detail. Their idyllic night away together turns ominous when Anima kidnaps Abel and ties him up in a hotel room, forcing the star to confront and reevaluate his destructive ways.

Director/co-writer Trey Edward Schults, known for under-the-radar indies such as Waves, It Comes at Night and Krisha, brings his kinetic, uncompromising visual sensibility to an all-out sensory film experience. Hurry Up Tomorrow is being seen as the film counterpart to Abel’s transcendent album released just a few months ago, but the film was actually made before the album came to fruition. This is a film that is less devoted to plot and narrative and aims to put the viewer in the fractured head space of The Weeknd. Schults and his filmmaking team craft a visceral odyssey that bears occasional comparisons to Gaspar Noe’s Climax. From the very opening, we begin on a tight close-up of Abel’s tear-soaked eyes, locked in a boxy aspect ratio that slowly opens up as the camera pulls away and moves around him while he prepares to go on stage. Schults immediately places the audience in the isolation of Abel and his overwhelming torment. The Waves filmmaker and Blonde cinematographer Chayse Irvin utilizes Schults’ trademark spinning, 360-degree camera rig inside of a car to show the excess of Abel’s life and how he attempts to numb himself from the realization of the dark truths inside himself. We see Abel perform a song at his concert in a long, unbroken take that simply astonishes. Despite the accusations of “over-directing”, Schults is a damn fine craftsman that specializes in establishing a tangible mood and tone. Schults always feels in control of the chaos he levels at the screen.

In the film’s most haunting scene — something even directly referenced in the album with the song “Baptized in Fear”, we see Abel falling asleep in the bathtub and experiencing sleep paralysis with the bath water rising higher and higher. Unable to move, he sees a shadowy black figure slowly moving towards him. Not only is this potentially the most accurate depiction of sleep paralysis in recent cinema, but it’s a harrowing sequence that gives the viewer a glimpse inside the everyday torment that Abel experiences. A nightmarish sequence follows Abel in a state of purgatory, wandering through a Vanilla Sky-like empty city and eventually a dark building with an unnamed crying woman that only the oldest Weeknd fans will have an idea of who she is. The immersive and bombastic sound design from Oscar-winning sound editor Johnnie Burn (The Zone of Interest) is top-notch, adding in experimental usage of overlapping sound effects to disarm and disorient the viewer. Daniel Lopatin (Uncut Gems) and Tesfaye’s score is also stellar, mixing in cues that would later become tracks on the album and offering further enhancement into the gritty, psychedelic tone of the film.

Courtesy Lionsgate

In a standout sequence, Ortega’s Ani confronts Abel to speak his truth by playing the lyrics of his recent hits “Blinding Lights” and “Gasoline” while prancing around his hotel room dancing as Abel remains tied up. Ani represents something of Abel’s softer, more vulnerable side; hoping for inner peace while remaining cognizant of how harmful his current lifestyle is. Ani is introduced in a literal blaze of fire, setting ablaze a home that clearly means a great deal to her, as she weeps while pouring gasoline throughout the house. Her backstory and motivations are vague, likely frustrating many viewers hoping for clear, concise answers. Yet, Ortega’s performance is a powerhouse, making a meal out of her highly enigmatic character. Ortega is a true live-wire, ranging from cute and affectionate, to manic and downright depraved at a moment’s notice.

On the other side of the spectrum, Lee is seen more as Abel’s dangerous side, constantly nagging to push through the pain while attempting to numb said pain with any substance available to them. These two characters represent the duality of Abel’s subconscious, fighting to claim victorious over what they perceive to be best for him. It’s this reckoning of artistry and personas; the inner being and the toxicity of ego where Hurry Up Tomorrow comes closest to greatness. Throughout his career, some of the best music The Weeknd has ever made has been born through self-hatred, isolation and heartache, which makes his ever-prevalent need for validation even more intense here. What he sees in Ani is not a partner, but a conduit for all of his pent up emotions just barely simmering under the surface. His feeling of failure in attempting to meet the astronomical expectations that have been put upon his shoulders have completely derailed his life and this one person might be the key to helping him find the peace he needs to change his ways.

While The Idol unfortunately showed he’s not quite a leading man, Tesfaye proves he has the abilities to become a solid character actor with the right role. He still has a ways to go in terms of his overall acting prowess, but there is an undeniable improvement in his confidence as a screen presence from his work in The Idol. It’s hard to argue against the claims that this is a vanity project for the multi-Grammy-winning artist, but he isn’t afraid to showcase himself in a negative light. Tesfaye’s performance is deeply vulnerable and quite raw. We’ll see long oners where he is breaking down in front of a mirror, or spouting off at his ex on the phone before crumbling into a ball of emotion that Tesfaye manages to sell. He is at his best during wordless exchanges with Ortega or in intense moments of anguish alongside Keoghan’s cokey manager.

Courtesy Lionsgate

Hurry Up Tomorrow likely won’t escape the criticisms of being a vanity project, but it is a dazzling, experimental and singular film experience. Director Trey Edward Schults succeeds in crafting a surreal and dizzying depiction of an artist’s psychological unraveling. It may not reach the consistent heights it initially promises; it is messy and does not always add up if you’re not an ardent fan of The Weeknd. It is also undeniably self-indulgent, even if its visual and aural indulgences are often thrilling. However, this is the kind of bold swing that deserves far more recognition for the audacious musical/cinematic fusion it is rather than the disaster dog-piling critics would lead you to believe. A decade from now, this will be a film that will be reappraised and reevaluated for the cult gem it surely seems destined to be.

Hurry Up Tomorrow is now playing in theaters.