Ever since “Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice” walked into that Las Vegas hotel room back in 1969, filmmakers have been fascinated by what happens when straight-laced couples flirt with libertinism, and each other. Last summer’s “Splitsville” was the funniest movie nobody saw, an expertly engineered farce in which a quartet of old friends implodes over the idea of an open marriage, getting an interstate’s worth of comic mileage out of people pretending to be cool with stuff they really weren’t cool with. It was leagues more inspired than “The Overnight,” Patrick Brice’s dreary 2015 wife-swapping comedy in which Jason Schwartzman and Judith Godrèche’s swingers taught Adam Scott’s stuffy suburbanite how to stop worrying and love his micropenis. “The Overnight” was one of those Sundance sensations that everyone talks about during the festival and then nobody ever mentions again. I had to look up the title for the purposes of writing this review.
Director Olivia Wilde’s “The Invite” has fared better post-Park City this year, one of the only Sundance premieres to emerge with any buzz from the beleaguered festival. Part of that is sheer star power. Wilde and Seth Rogen star as a miserable millennial couple who have their noisy, older neighbors (Edward Norton and Penélope Cruz) over for a dinner party that erupts into chaos after an unexpected proposition. If it feels like people won’t stop making this same movie over and over again, that’s because in this case it’s literally true. “The Invite” is based on Cesc Gay’s stage play “The People Upstairs,” which has already been adapted into films in Spain, Italy, Switzerland, France and South Korea. Clearly, the concept travels well.
Working from a screenplay by Will McCormack and Rashida Jones (yes, that Rashida Jones), Wilde sets her version in San Francisco’s Bay Area. The film takes place entirely inside a tony apartment that Rogen’s frustrated music professor would never have been able to afford if he hadn’t inherited it. He and Wilde have just finished extensive renovations, though in a note of eye-rolling symbolism, she still has yet to decide what color she wants their bedroom to be. She’s invited the neighbors over in part as an apology for all the racket. But noise is a touchy subject in this building, since crabby Rogen really wants to confront the people upstairs because he’s tired of being kept awake at night by the sounds of their passionate lovemaking.
From left, Seth Rogen and Olivia Wilde in “The Invite.” (Courtesy A24)
“The Invite” begins in a frenzy of party preparations, with all sorts of shouty close-ups, jagged cuts and a musical score with stabbier strings than “Psycho.” As a filmmaker, Wilde has a tendency to lay things on too thick. Her overbearing 2019 directorial debut “Booksmart” couldn’t get a joke off without elbowing you in the ribs and repeating the punchline, and there’s something initially off-putting about this movie’s borderline mania. Luckily, things cool out upon the arrival of Norton and Cruz, with Wilde pulling the camera back into wider shots and allowing her actors to steer the scenes. “The Invite” becomes more of a theatrical piece, letting the laughs emerge from the interplay between the performers rather than trying to impose them on the material.
Most of the comedy comes from the tension between the free-spirited, easygoing neighbors and their uptight younger counterparts. It’s a generational divide you don’t see addressed much in film and television, where typically older folks are presented as prigs who can’t handle the candor of rebellious youth. As an aging Gen Xer, I’m thrilled to see a movie about how these days it feels like the opposite is true, expressly calling out millennials for being annoying little prudes. Casting ‘90s movie icons Norton and Cruz is an exceptionally savvy coup, bringing the baggage of “Fight Club” and transgressive Almodóvar films into this stolid apartment while Rogen harumphs about decorum and Wilde’s character frets over being perceived as properly progressive. (There’s a great gag about her trying to impress Cruz with culturally inclusive snacks that’s also a nod to the Spanish actress’ 1992 breakthrough “Jamón Jamón.”)
Norton is absurdly good in the picture, finding a keen balance between his “aw shucks” affability and a prickly, passive-aggressive edge he flicks like a switchblade while winding up Rogen. The actor has been on a real roll lately. His heartbreaking performance as Pete Seeger in “A Complete Unknown” blew Timothée Chalamet’s more ballyhooed Bob Dylan impression out of the water, and here he runs circles around Rogen, who can’t find a second gear for his petulantly unhappy husband. (Rogen is such a canny Hollywood operator, I feel like we’re doomed to spend decades watching him bang his head against his actorly limitations. He’ll be the weak link in countless prestige projects just because executives love him and he’s good in the room.) Wilde’s performance overdoes it a bit with the bumbling, horny googly-eyes, but I suppose it’s an appropriate response to Cruz’s casual sophistication and serene sex appeal.
From left, Edward Norton and Penélope Cruz in “The Invite.” (Courtesy A24)
There’s about a 40-minute stretch in the middle where “The Invite” really cooks, bouncing provocations off revelations with the grace of a great bedroom farce. Watching the picture on closing night of this year’s Independent Film Festival Boston, I was reminded once again of how spiritually nourishing it can be to sit with 400 other people who are all laughing their heads off. For some insane reason, movie studios have decided that comedies should go straight to streaming these days, as if laughing alone in your apartment were any substitute for the communal goodwill of howling along with a room full of strangers. “The Invite” is rejuvenating. Well, it is for a while, anyway.
The problem is that the movie isn’t content to just be hilarious, an ambition that has doomed many great clowns. After bringing the house down, “The Invite” takes a misguided turn into drama, turning into a group therapy session for characters who aren’t well-drawn enough to support the transition. It’s obvious that this subject matter is personal for Wilde, whose marriage to TV star Jason Sudeikis collapsed in embarrassingly public fashion a few years ago. The ensuing tabloid meltdown kneecapped the release of her sophomore directorial effort “Don’t Worry Darling,” a dire PR cycle made even more problematic by the fact that the movie wasn’t any good. “The Invite” is clearly designed to be both her riposte and redemption.
After the IFFBoston screening, Wilde appeared onstage with a real-life relationship counselor, and the two of them proceeded to psychoanalyze the movie’s characters as if they were real people. It was one of the most stultifying post-film presentations I’ve ever seen. (This is where my penchant for sitting in the front row works against me, because there’s no way to get up and leave without making a big show of it.) I’m sure Wilde means well and wants to inspire discussions about the emotional issues raised in the movie, but she was already doing that during the film’s earlier, funnier scenes.
“The Invite” is now in theaters.
