Hurry Up Tomorrow

There are movies about time travel, and then there’s Hurry Up Tomorrow—a film that dares to ask, “What if someone broke the entire timeline because they forgot to charge their phone?” It’s a psychological sci-fi fever dream starring brooding actors, swirling wormholes, and a guy who absolutely should not be left alone with quantum technology.

This movie stars a grief-stricken physicist (probably), a glowing orb of unresolved emotions (maybe a love interest), and The Weeknd, who plays… The Weeknd. Or a guy who used to be The Weeknd. Or possibly a hallucination of The Weeknd caused by time radiation and gluten withdrawal. It’s hard to tell. He appears in a silk shirt, stares directly into the camera, and delivers lines like he’s trying to seduce an alien satellite.

Critics have described his performance as “personal,” “bold,” and “like watching someone lose a staring contest with their own reflection.” Whether he’s channeling inner pain or just wondering where craft services went, The Weeknd gives us what can only be described as acting with punctuation: lots of long pauses and one very intense eyebrow twitch.

The plot? Loosely follows a man who discovers time travel by syncing his grief to a broken smartwatch and yelling at a mirror until the past reboots. There’s a shadowy villain called “The Architect,” who speaks only in riddles and shows up exclusively during lightning storms. At one point, the main character meets himself from the future, who is wearing cooler clothes and is somehow still not emotionally available.

Expect flashing lights, slow-motion tears, and at least one scene where a character screams “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen!” while being sucked into what looks like a flaming tornado made of calendar apps.

And the ending? Oh, it’s open to interpretation—meaning the writers fell asleep during editing and called it a metaphor.

In short, Hurry Up Tomorrow is what happens when you combine time travel, grief, and a late-career music video energy from The Weeknd. It’s ambitious. It’s surreal. It’s possibly a cry for help.

4 out of 5 temporal breakdowns, with one bonus point for The Weeknd’s ability to look dramatically haunted by the concept of daylight savings.