Hurry Up Tomorrow, is a risk-taking experience, a David “Lynchian” fever dream of a movie that’s as visually marvelous as it is head-scratching. It’s a “Purple Rain” for the “Euphoria” generation, and you can’t take your eyes off it.
It's clearly intended to be a companion to and showcase of the simultaneously released album instead of a fleshed-out, standalone film. Regrettably, it never lets the audience forget that fact, feeling far more like a long music video than a feature film.
Sinceramente não entendo essas pessoas que estão criticando o filme, esse filme é pra mostra aos verdadeiros fãs do Abel como foi certas experiências da minha pessoal dele , particularmente eu gostei do filme e das músicas em principal amo o Abel é em qualquer coisa que ele faça eu vou estar sempre apoiando ele ️🩹
E ao restos das pessoas que não gostaram do filme vão cuidar da vida de vocês e vão se foder também
A MUST SEE ️️️️️️️
A Bold, Dreamlike Dive into Fame’s Dark SideHurry Up Tomorrow isn’t your typical Hollywood film — and that’s what makes it **** his first lead role, The Weeknd (Abel Tesfaye) turns in a moody, magnetic performance as a fictionalized version of himself: a sleepless, heartbroken pop star caught in a surreal spiral of fame, regret, and obsession. His chemistry with Jenna Ortega, who plays the mysterious Anima, adds tension and depth, grounding the film’s more experimental visuals.Directed by Trey Edward Shults, the movie trades traditional storytelling for a dreamlike experience. It flows like a hallucination sometimes chaotic, often mesmerizing. The cinematography is intense and stylized, and while it won’t work for everyone, it’s clear the visuals are trying to say something bigger about identity and losing **** soundtrack, co-created by Tesfaye and Daniel Lopatin (Oneohtrix Point Never), is haunting and immersive. It pulses through the film like a heartbeat, adding emotional weight where dialogue fades. Some moments feel more like an extended music video than a movie — but that’s part of its **** Hurry Up Tomorrow for everyone? No. But for fans of The Weeknd or those craving something daring and emotionally raw, it’s a bold cinematic trip worth taking. Like Purple Rain for a new generation, it might just become a cult favorite.
Woven throughout is some conversation about absent fathers and fear of abandonment, with unearned delivery and first-draft acuity — something gesturing at depth without piercing the surface.
Hurry Up Tomorrow bears all the signs of pop star hubris masquerading as artistic candor, despite game performances by Jenna Ortega and Barry Keogan to prop up the budding thespian.
It won’t slam the door on Tesfaye’s movie ambitions, but as a bid to conquer the big screen, it’s an off-putting, see-what-sticks wallow that treats the power of cinema like a midconcert costume change.
Hurry Up Tomorrow takes its star’s caterwauling about how hard it is to be famous and heartbroken for granted, and expects its audience to roll with every self-inflicted wound. It’s vapid, meandering, and insistent on its own profundity as a tale of an artist reckoning with fame.
A stunning visual masterpiece with equally impressive mind twisting story.
This movie was emotionally gripping and sometimes confusing, but the best movies don’t always make sense, nor do they have to. I’m going to watch it several more times and I highly suggest watching it.
The film has its moments of eye-catching visuals and enticing drama, but when any of the attributes that actually have the potential redeem the movie all sit on a basis of unbearable pretentiousness without any semblance of cohesion or a story, the movie becomes a self-inflicted mess rife with overt victimization and contrived emotions.
The most insufferable hour and 40 minutes I have ever spent in a theatre. A boring, nonsensical, horribly acted and self indulgent sequence of unbearably awful scenes. Do yourself a favor and do not give the weekend and his gigantic ego your money.