Hurry Up Tomorrow

Rather than the soundtrack being conceived to accompany the movie, Hurry Up Tomorrow switches up the order with messy results.

Four months after Abel “The Weeknd” Tesfaye released a studio album of the same name, here comes a glorified feature-length promotional video disguised as a brooding portrait of artistic reckoning. You half-expect a QR code to pop up in the corner of the screen.

Tesfaye’s legions of devotees might tolerate this shallow and self-indulgent drama, which amounts to a muddled character study about contemporary celebrity and the pressure of fan expectations.

The meta concept has Tesfaye playing a slightly fictionalized version of himself, as an angst-ridden pop singer on an arena tour whose manager (Barry Keoghan) pushes him to the limit while promoting the rock-star lifestyle of sex, drugs, and alcohol.

Yet he’s emotionally distraught apparently after a bad breakup, and the stress is causing his voice to suffer. He needs a break.

A parallel story involves a lonely fan (Jenna Ortega) haunted by a troubled past and in need of a fresh start when the two lock eyes after a show and share a night together. “Your music is a lot more personal than people realize,” she explains, presumably after reading the album’s liner notes.

In the final act, it transitions into a dark and surreal thriller of obsession, revenge, toxic masculinity, and creative inspiration.

During his character’s spiral of self-doubt and destructive behavior, Tesfaye conveys a certain intensity but his vulnerability comes off as guarded and superficial.

At least there’s the visual and technical craftsmanship of director Trey Edward Shults (Waves), such as during an impressive opening backstage tracking shot.

Shults and Tesfaye collaborated on the unfocused screenplay, which lacks consistent narrative momentum. The nonlinear story is fractured to the point of disorientation, and not just because of the persistent strobes and shadows, or the reliance on tight and expressive closeups.

The film struggles to find conviction in its protagonist’s anguish and despair beneath the façade of wealth and glamour. As an intimate relationship saga about lost souls finding one another, it occasionally sparks to life through its subtle glances and unspoken gestures more than the pedestrian dialogue.

Some of The Weeknd’s songs are catchy, as you’d expect. However, the ambition and introspective catharsis behind Hurry Up Tomorrow is muted by its hubris.

Rated R, 105 minutes.