This type of invite does not require an RSVP. Married couple Angela (Olivia Wilde) and Joe (Seth Rogen) have shared memories for over 15 years. Their time together has spawned a child. From the outside, their life looks pretty strong. How bad can it be living in an expansive apartment (that they don’t have to pay for) right in the middle of one of the best areas of San Francisco? Apparently, very bad. Joe, once a talented musician, is miserable working an unfulfilling job as a music teacher, and Angela, a one-time creative art soul, seemingly does nothing. Their respective frustrations have naturally fused into the marriage, one where intimacy has become nonexistent and arguments are seemingly an everyday occurrence.

Oh, and there’s the nuisance upstairs, featuring a cornucopia of large noises. Neighbors Piña (Penélope Cruz) and “Hawk” (Edward Norton) love to have sex. Hearing the pleasurable experiences doesn’t bother Angela like it does Joe. Figuring it’s time to meet this explosive duo, Angela and an immeasurably reticent Joe invite them over for dinner, each looking to get specific things out of this night. Unaware to the bickering pair, Piña and Hawk may be looking to get something out of them too. This night promises to be revealing, literally and figuratively.

After smashing onto the scene as a director with Booksmart (a movie I didn’t quite click with), Olivia Wilde’s follow up in Don’t Worry Darling did some damage to her star with all the behind-the-scenes chaos. While that movie is a bit of a mess narratively, it displayed what Wilde is capable of as a visual storyteller and world builder whether armed with an expansive budget or not. In The Invite, proximity and framing are the fifth and sixth characters of the movie. Sometimes when the source material is based off of a play, the direction can come off as stilted and staid. Yet here, there’s a tangible vibrancy. Wilde uses space along with precise blocking around the simultaneously tight and expansive living quarters to communicate character relationships and even how they perceive themselves. Shooting linearly creates a genuine rhythm and a consistent escalation that is earned, which is important as the proceedings become heavier.

The Invite is hilarious. Very hilarious. Wilde’s shot composition plays a part in that, but a larger part of this is the because of the screenwriting efforts of Rashida Jones and Will McCormack. Adapted from a 2020 Spanish film known as The People Upstairs (this adapted from a play), their written dialogue is cutting, but naturalistic, loud, but never abrasive or exhausting to listen to. Certain portions of the screenplay benefit from Wilde and company letting herself and the cast go with the flow. Embedded in the constant humor are measured discussions on sex and intimacy, the lengths many will go to receive validation when not received from a partner, and whether a broken relationship can actually be put together again. The beautiful thing about The Invite is that while it ends conclusively, there are multiple readings that may be colored by what experiences viewers are bringing into the film, and even the cast themselves are split on the meaning and what is inferred (or not).

From an acting perspective, Wilde and Rogen’s efforts are career bests. The former’s expressions are expansive, and each reaction flashed covers everything from anxiety and anger to curiosity and melancholy. Maybe it shouldn’t be as surprising as it is for Rogen to be as elite as he is here, as there have been moments in straightforward dramas and his peak comedies that still required dramatic chops. The Invite gives space for him to get his “Rogenized” on spot quips in with his signature exasperation, but also asks him to show his vulnerability and lack of confidence while he’s being witty, as his character ultimately uses humor not to disarm, but to defend and cope.

Cruz and Norton are definitely in supporting mode, however, both individuals are the accelerators to pushing the movie into different places, whether it be from a present and future perspective (Cruz) or a past perspective delivered in an improvisational monologue from Norton that will be talked about for a while. In a way, all four of these actors feel like they’re acting in a different movie but they’re all complementing each other beautifully.

What 2026 has seemingly told us from a critical (and somewhat commercial) perspective is that the movies that have clicked the most with audiences and critics are not IP. Sure, some may be adapted from message boards, novels, or other foreign language features, but they’re all original or unknown enough to be considered so. Add The Invite to the list, doubling as one of 2026’s funniest watches of the year as well as one of its most thought provoking.

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Photo credits to go impawards.com, movies.mdwxn.com, architecturaldigest.com, and imdb.com.