Film Hedonist

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” So begins Anna Karenina, one of the world’s most famous stories of a doomed marriage. Why bring up Tolstoy? Because contrary to his famous opening line, the protagonists of The Invite are unhappy in quite a cliché way.

Olivia Wilde’s third feature film (an adaptation of the 2020 Spanish comedy The People Upstairs) tries to understand why a wall grows between the people who were once closest.

On the surface, Joe (Seth Rogen) and Angela (Olivia Wilde) are picture-perfect millennials who seem to have it all: a spacious apartment in an economically brutal San Francisco, a music professor’s salary that has allowed Angela to stay home for twelve years, and a grown daughter they both speak of with breathless adoration.

Speaking of the home: it is the film’s only setting. Single-location films often fall into the same trap—pacing lags and dialogue devolves into filler. The Invite avoids this entirely. It is a razor-sharp piece of cinema where every piece is essential. Everything fits, from the color palette to the lens choices. The sheer care the crew brought to crafting the environment is remarkable. Each scene re-examines the apartment from a new, intriguing vantage point while efficiently moving the narrative ahead. Across its hour and a half, there isn’t a throwaway line or an extra frame.

Beneath its bittersweet core, the movie holds up its side of the bargain as a comedy, serving up steady doses of physical and verbal wit. A huge part of why it works is the ensemble—cast so impeccably that it’s impossible to picture anyone else in these shoes.

Oh, how we’ve missed seeing Edward Norton in a non-dramatic role! He brings genuine warmth and hilarious energy to the dry, slightly pretentious Hawk without ever letting the performance slip into caricature. As soon as he and Cruz enter the scene, the film hits its stride delivering its most memorable scenes and dialogue. Cruz is the ultimate icing on the cake: her dynamic with everyone in the room is effortless, amplifying the weight and energy of every single moment she touches.

The Invite is also fascinating because it marks Olivia Wilde’s triumphant return to form as a director after (let’s be honest) the disastrous thriller Don’t Worry Darling (2022), a production plagued by backstage gossip from day one. That chaos culminated in the cast’s absurd behavior at the Venice Film Festival and Wilde’s own high-profile divorce.

So, when the final scenes hit and Angela lays her heart bare through a flood of tears, if you get the sudden feeling that The Invite is Wilde’s attempt to make sense of her own marriage’s demise, just know: that makes two of us.