In her first two features, director Olivia Wilde has tackled a wild night out with Booksmart (2019) and a high-concept sci-fi thriller in Don’t Worry Darling (2022), two films that radically differ thematically, tonally, and in scale. Wilde performs another drastic pivot with her third feature, The Invite, a comedy largely confined to one single apartment with just four actors. The confines of the film, though, never constrict Wilde as she dives into a chaotic evening where Joe (Seth Rogen) and Angela (Wilde), a couple on the brink of collapse, have their enigmatic and loud neighbors Piña (Penélope Cruz) and Hawk (Edward Norton) over for dinner. She steers the ship with confidence and groundedness that solidify Wilde as a force behind the camera. 

Adapted by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack from the 2020 Spanish film The People Upstairs, The Invite harnesses friction to expertly blend raucous comedy, nail-biting tension, and deep melancholy as the evening unfolds. The differences in communication, desires, and perception all breed excellent moments for this intricate emotional concoction to succeed. The punchy dialogue operates in dualities (at one point, Angela comments that their apartment is very cold and lacks heat), using the mundane to convey the realities of their relationships. It’s precise but never heavy-handed.

Jones and McCormack clearly define each character as well, allowing their actions to gradually reveal their inner workings instead of simply telling the audience. Angela yearns to be seen, while Joe rarely feels heard. Piña and Hawk feel like a direct mirror and also a portrait of what Angela and Joe want to be. On paper, these characters are an actor’s dream, and Wilde assembles an ensemble that lifts them off the page and adds endless dimension. 

Wilde bottles Angela’s manic energy in a way that is both overwhelming and endearing. We root for her but are slightly afraid of what will happen if something goes wrong. Rogen delivers one of his finest performances as her direct counterpart. His signature humor shines here, sucking the air right out of the room at moments. But it’s the moments where Rogen allows us into Joe’s anger that are the most striking. There’s something much sadder masked beneath his intense need to joke through a situation, and Rogen masterfully allows that nuance to breathe.

Norton’s Hawk is an odd bird in the best of ways. He pushes Hawk’s incessant need for honesty to uncomfortable and hilarious places that are agonizing yet charming. Hawk feels like a performance for a majority of the runtime, but Norton practically steals the show with a stunning act of vulnerability via a third-act monologue.

The ensemble is electrifying, but Cruz is the magical thread that pulls everything together. She commands the room, even when silently observing. It plays into the mystery around the couple all the more beguiling. 

Piña is a therapist and a sexologist, and Cruz uses these nuggets of information as the foundation for a riveting character. You can feel her analyzing the room at all times and breaking down every interaction in real time. She navigates her conversations with an effortless air, but there’s also a methodical precision to the way she moves through them. Likewise, she’s so uninhibited in her body, and she makes every space her own. She is a character who revels in control. When she maintains it, she’s calm and collected. There are moments, though, when she is out of control, and Cruz allows something sharper and more precise to come to the forefront that is equally mesmerizing. 

Wilde operates at maximum confidence behind the camera, and every decision drips with intention. In particular, the way she plays with the framing of each shot brilliantly elevates the dynamics at the center of each conversation, often relying on various windows and entryways to help emphasize it. When Joe and Angela are at odds with one another, they occupy the frame on their own, sometimes exiting the frame only for the other to take up that space. 

Other times, Wilde emphasizes the space between the two, capturing them on opposite ends of the room in one single shot. Sometimes, Piña and Hawk make their way between the two and emphasize that neither can agree on whether to address their problems with the neighbors. There are moments when the two fight where they are framed literally on top of one another, as neither listens to the other. When Joe and Angela start to come back to one another, they’ll wander into the same frame and begin to emanate a closeness that once felt out of reach.

Her repeated usage of mirrors and reflections is also a clever emphasis on her characters, who simultaneously yearn to be seen but can’t bring themselves to look inward. It’s not overdone and isn’t there just to be flashy. It serves real intent and lands with impact whenever executed. 

Along with cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra, Wilde maximizes the limited apartment setting (designed impeccably by Jade Healy) and transforms it into a playground with limitless potential. The walls close in on our characters when things grow tense and uncomfortable, and other times the space feels endless as we are forced to sit in the emptiness. The single location comes to life and uplifts the conflict at the center of this dinner.

Sharp and precise cuts from editors Yorgos Mavropsaridis and Anthony Boys make each contentious exchange feel like a tennis match. There’s a rhythm that keeps the dialogue moving with impressive momentum and the audience locked into every word. When paired with Devonté Hynes’ theatrical score, the stakes feel higher than ever. Suddenly, these marital woes become the most important thing in the world, and you’re holding your breath.

Wilde’s well-oiled machine comes together to deliver something hilarious, yet emotionally cathartic. Though small in scope, The Invite achieves maximum emotional impact by asking what it means to actively choose someone and how to find each other again through the noise. In this day and age, where it feels impossible to have an actual conversation, Wilde delivers an emotionally intelligent film that is unafraid to have messy and uncomfortable conversations with well-earned gusto.

Review Courtesy of Adam Patla

Feature Image Credit to A24