An intelligent script, charismatic performances, and sharp creative filmmaking, guided by Olivia Wilde’s thoughtful direction, make The Invite a hysterical and subtly heartfelt gem.
Olivia Wilde’s uproarious The Invite opens with an Oscar Wilde quote: “One should always be in love; that is the reason one should never marry”. Its premise powerfully reflects the satirical edge of those words in a setup that mirrors Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? In using the quote’s cynical sentiment as the film’s foundation, and then continually challenging it, Wilde has crafted one of 2026’s finest comedies. It’s a picture as quick-witted, and ultimately heartfelt, as it is deliberately uncomfortable.
Taking place over a single evening, Joe and Angela (Seth Rogen and Olivia Wilde, respectively) are a married couple living in a renovated New York flat. Their relationship is defined by constant arguing; their first lines of dialogue are a heated exchange about Joe’s bicycle upon his return home. Whatever love the two once had has been slowly smothered by the routine of marriage, the camera lingering on their grumpy expressions and passive-aggressive dynamic.
Angela has invited the upstairs neighbours – a zen, cheerful couple named Pina and Hawk (Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton, respectively) – down to dinner, having spent all day prepping food. This is to Joe’s chagrin, who is disturbed by the loud lovemaking Pina and Hawk partake in on a seemingly nightly basis. When Pina and Hawk arrive, the differences between the two couples couldn’t be any more stark. As unspoken tensions and awkward attempts at conversation arise, various revelations about each person come to light – many as funny as they are blistering.
A remake of the 2020 Spanish film The People Upstairs (which has been remade in various countries), the film’s premise and execution are brilliant. Wilde has explored human connection in her past directorial works – the hilarious Booksmart and the ambitious but messy Don’t Worry Darling. With The Invite, Wilde puts the complications and even oddities of romance under scrutiny through an amusing but deeply humanist lens. She makes a spectacle of the overt and covert frictions of partnership through explosive performances, articulate craft, and an acidic script. Yet, her direction ultimately uses the comedic portrayal of these tensions to reinforce how special love is with the right person, warts and all.
Sound mixing plays a uniquely impressionable role in achieving this. During many exchanges, Devonté Hynes’ score hangs in the air, underscoring the at-times ferocious dialogue, the music growing more prominent as things get more heated or awkward. In other films, such a creative choice can be distracting, like with After the Hunt. Here, though, the technique is brutally effective as the music adds to the discomfort, ringing in our ears just as Joe and Angela’s venomous words to each other do.
Wilde’s direction elevates the humour and drama via the weaponisation of blocking. The actors are often positioned in linear ways opposite one another, be a couple on either side during a proposition or each person in a square four-way standoff, the centreframe editing visualising their face-off positions in a manner not dissimilar to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. The filmmaking is always conscious of the subject matter and actively works to amplify its urgency and bite.
Co-written by Will McCormack and Rashida Jones, the script is often vicious in its razor-sharp dialogue, but deceptively sage and tender, too. The writing implements the satirical punch of Oscar Wilde’s quote by portraying how the model of marriage and the exposure it creates have chipped away at Joe and Angela’s relationship. Yet it explores the nuances of that exposure, too, validating both the husband’s and the wife’s grievances without excusing their flaws or poorer behaviour towards each other.
Simultaneously, while Pina and Hawk are lovey-dovey to a fault, their interactions contain hidden wisdom. Their imperfect but happy relationship allows room for fluidity and evolution in place of the societal rigidity that Oscar Wilde was critiquing in his original quote, laying the groundwork for the lesson of empathy that the film advocates.
Each actor brings their role to life with charisma to spare, portraying frustration and calmness alike with exasperation and vulnerability when the scene requires. They relish in the comedic possibilities without ever being over the top – Rogen’s portrayal of blunt belligerence being a particular highlight. Even the setting is a character in its own right, the renovations being an expansion that effectively turned two flats into one. One can see how the uneasy harmony of two becoming one makes an apt metaphor for the themes.
For a film that takes place in a single location, there are some delightfully farcical narrative twists, all of which make an otherwise glum story surprisingly riotous. Much of the comedy comes from the misery and discomfort that forced interaction can entail, but the midpoint takes quite a raunchy turn after a long-delayed confrontation leads to an unexpected discovery. The conversations and sequences this gives rise to are among the film’s biggest laughs as eccentricity and prudishness clash in real time. This is also where the themes of love and empathy become most profound, as fantasies of romance and marriage are examined in contrast to the realities required to sustain them. The beguiling observations the film makes on honesty, communication and the dedication it takes to earnestly keep love going give it a dramatic punch that’s just as engrossing as its humour.
At times, the film’s stylisation can be on the nose. Some of the more obvious visual metaphors include windows to suggest distance and mirrors to highlight self-reflection and the splintering that occurs during arguments. The pacing can also be wonky on occasion despite its absorbing storytelling. There are a lot of revelations and emotions to wade through over the course of the evening, thus getting every piece in place to deliver maximum impact can cause a slight drag. But the film is simply too funny and too earnest in its conviction to let these missteps ruin the experience.
The Invite seems built on cynicism, but its genius lies in how its story confronts the opening quote, despite acknowledging the validity and humour of its sentiment. Love and marriage can be complicated and draining, but that doesn’t mean love, be it of oneself or another, isn’t worth experiencing. An intelligent script, charismatic performances, and sharp creative filmmaking, guided by Olivia Wilde’s thoughtful direction, make this a hysterical and subtly heartfelt gem. From its visceral first scene to its poignantly open-ended climax, The Invite generates laughter and profoundness in abundance.
The Invite is showing in cinemas nationwide from July 3.
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