★★★★★
Olivia Wilde’s latest directing effort, The Invite, is a drama that, much like people, masks its pain with humor and deflection.
While the film is outrageously hilarious almost from the moment it begins, it isn’t a comedy. It’s a grounded, realistic look at life, love, marriage, and simply being.
Will McCormack and Rashida Jones’ script, based on the motion picture by Cesc Gay, is witty, sharp, heartfelt, and grounded.
The characters are crafted with such care, layered with relatability, flaws, insecurities, and desires. They’re beaten down by life, showcasing real people with depth rather than trying to validate false realities.
The arguments between Angela and Joe, while often comedic on the surface, are tragic because of how painfully real they are.
The opening fight, in particular, is one of the most grounded and realistic portrayals of a relationship that comes to mind since Before Midnight.
While the dialogue is humorously entertaining, it’s the subtle reality beneath it that makes it truly outstanding, heartfelt, and tragically authentic.
Even the film’s approach to BDSM and kink is handled delicately rather than with mockery.
As the second film this year, alongside Pillion, to be set within the BDSM community, The Invite offers a more insightful look at that world without making it the focus.
Instead, it treats the subject with respect, weaving it naturally into the story with purpose rather than simply making it the butt of a joke.
Olivia Wilde’s direction is absolutely impeccable. From the opening frame to the closing credits, she knows exactly what kind of film she wants to make and what she wants to express.
“Olivia Wilde knows exactly the film she wants to make—and executes it impeccably.”
The pacing is perfect. There isn’t a dull moment or a misstep. Every scene carries weight and intention.
The opening sequence is a perfect example. Nothing particularly dramatic is happening. A wonderful score plays over b-roll of Angela and Joe going about their daily lives.
Simple, yet essential.
It establishes their day-to-day routine, offering insight into the blissful mundanity of their lives, while the square framing and multi-subject compositions fit together seamlessly.
The result is a smooth, consistently engaging pace, elevated even further by an incredible score.
Every second has intent, laying the groundwork for what follows.
The changing compositions also help maintain that momentum, keeping even simple dialogue scenes visually engaging through thoughtful framing.
Adam Newport-Berra’s cinematography is the one area that feels inconsistent.
Some shots are beautifully composed and visually stunning. I particularly love the shot of Angela and Hawk sitting in the bedroom, along with the image of Hawk on the bed while Angela’s reflection appears in the mirror.
It subtly suggests that she doesn’t feel she can openly be herself or talk honestly about what she’s feeling. Ironically, the conversation isn’t really about sex or kink at all, but about the emotional weight of everyday life.
Other shots, however, feel awkward and lack a clear visual purpose beyond simply capturing the characters. Their unconventional framing creates a sense of intention that never fully materializes.
Devonté Hynes deserves the highest praise for his score. It’s one of the year’s very best.
Hynes strikes the perfect balance in both composition and emotion.
The score never misses a beat, always arriving at precisely the right moment. It complements the film beautifully without ever overpowering or distracting from the scene.
Music plays a major role throughout the film, accompanying what feels like much of its runtime, yet it remains consistently flawless.
McCormack and Jones’ screenplay provides the foundation, but the performances elevate the material into one of the rawest, most honest, and most insightful films about marriage, life, and love.
“One of the rawest, most honest, and most insightful films about marriage, life, and love.”
Cruz, Norton, and Rogen all deliver spectacular performances.
Olivia Wilde, however, gives one of the year’s finest performances.
It isn’t simply the way she delivers her dialogue—or the moments when she says nothing at all. It’s the pain in her eyes, the tension in her neck, and the countless small details that separate her performance from the rest of an already exceptional cast.
That’s no slight against the others, all of whom deliver some of the best work of their careers. This is Seth Rogen’s Punch-Drunk Love, Norton’s best work since Fight Club, and one of Penélope Cruz’s strongest performances since Vicky Cristina Barcelona.
The Invite is more than a comedy. It’s a gut-wrenching drama with perfectly timed comedic outbursts that mirror life itself.
“More than a comedy, it’s a gut-wrenching drama with perfectly timed comedic outbursts that mirror life itself.”
After all, life is always funnier when it’s happening to someone else.