REVIEW. THE INVITE: No need to RSVP.

From Lelft: Olivia Wilde, Seth Rogan, Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton in The Invite.

"One should always be in love. That is the reason one should never marry."

-Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance

Back in 1990, New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael snidely referred to Kevin Costner's revisionist western, Dances With Wolves, as "Plays With the Camera," an obvious putdown of his neophytic directing skills. I've watched Costner's Oscar-winning epic (or parts of) many times since, and I'm still not convinced his cinematography was, Kael implied, overdone or forced. Deliberate, for sure, and determined to evoke certain notions about how the American west was settled. But not detrimental to the movie's story or depiction of the late 19th century frontier.

I kept thinking about Kael's quip while watching Olivia Wilde's third directing effort, The Invite, wondering what might constitute a companion insult. And the only appropriate descriptor I can think of is "Wanking the Lens." Pause for reaction.

Yup, that's how Wilde uses the camera: trying to stimulate the audience into caring about four thoroughly unpleasant people who talk over, around and under each other. From the movie's opening shot, everything is framed in various squares and rectangles. Even the credits appear and disappear in annoyingly sequential order. Once the story gets going, we get more heavy-handed camera work: from framing characters in doorways, windows, and wall panels as they converse, to angling the camera in a frantic series close-ups and pull backs.

All of this carefully curated filming might work if the dialogue was as tight and taut as the characters we're invited to spend an evening with. Unfortunately, it's not, despite a fine attempt by screenwriters Will McCormack and Rashida Jones to reimagine Spanish filmmaker Cesc Gay's 2020 comedy, The People Upstairs. Maybe middle-aged sex farce doesn't translate well. Where is Woody Allen when you need him?

To wit (though the movie is sorely lacking any), Angela (Olivia Wilde) and Joe (Seth Rogan), are a longtime married couple who seem to argue constantly and, in this case, disagree about what to do about their noisy upstairs neighbors, Pina (Penélope Cruz) and Hawk (Edward Norton), whose thundering nightly sexcapades are bothering Joe. Angela, more intrigued by their sexplay than angry (perhaps because she and Joe have not had sex in over a year), invites Pina and Hawk to see their recently renovated apartment.

The movie opens with a very tired Joe coming home from work (he's a former rock musician now drudging through life as an associate professor of music), only to find Angela putting the finishing touches on an elaborate charcuterie and cheese board she hopes will impress their neighbors. With Joe and Angela's daughter away for the night at a friend's house, the table is set for what might be a very intriguing, if tense, evening.

After an overlong discussion about Joe not reading Angela's text message request to bring some wine, Pina and Hawk arrive, homemade flan in hand and smoldering mischief in their eyes. Awkward small talk follows, until the couples pair off for more focused conversations: Joe and Pina share a joint in his library, Angela takes Hawk on tour of her redesigning efforts. Unfortunately, their respective conversations are all too predictable: Hawk, sensing Angela's marital malaise, provides the smarmy prosaic foreplay she longs for, while Pina titilates Joe with her suggestive interest in his music.

None of this - the familiarity of marriage versus the excitement of strangers - is new or cutting edge. It's been done before, better and funnier (see Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? or Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice, for starters). By the time Hawk and Pina (he's a retired firefighter and she's a sexologist, by the way), confess that they have participated in orgies, I was checking my watch to see how much longer I was in for with this dull escapade.

Will Joe and Angela participate in an orgy, or will they just swap partners? I won't reveal their choice, but I can guarantee that the outcome is neither funny nor satisfying, though the people sitting next to me (re: four college-aged males) were laughing hysterically. Perhaps, this was new territory for them. Or maybe they just find hearing the word "fucking" inserted into every line of dialogue creative. Though I certainly don't consider myself a prude in terms of profanity or adult sugject matter, I found the dialogue here flat and the comedic rhythm off, despite the actors's efforts. Norton can oil his way around a sleezy character with the best of them, Cruz personifies the exotic, mercurial European provacateuse, and Rogan plays his usual sad sack schmuck (though I must admit I'm growing weary of his schtick). But they just don't quite gel as an ensemble here, despite their individual thespian pedigrees.

That kind of imbalance between the subject matter, the script and the pacing goes back to the director, and Wilde seems more intent on proving her seriousness as a filmmaker than letting the actors and the screenplay tell a story. Of course, it's this kind of pretentious faux gravitas that can be catnip for some film critics. Glenn Garner of Deadline Hollywood, concluded that The Invite "explores dynamics of sex and relationships with raw and endearing honesty." I saw no evidence of either. Maybe crude and annoying self-deception, but little unflinching truth. Another critic, Adam Chitwood of The Wrap, called The Invite "the great-great-grandchild" of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, making me wonder if Edward Albee would accept such an uneven dramedy as having been spawned from his prose.

It's been a few weeks since I posted a review, mostly because I'm not inclined to rush to see animated franchises like Toy Story 5 or Minions & Monsters, or the latest slasher/horror flick, so I was really looking forward to seeing an adult-focused film. And The Invite's trailer seemed, well... inviting. Sadly, it was a mostly frustrating exercise in earnest filmmaking, despite Wilde's nod to her chosen theatrical namesake (Wilde was born Olivia Jane Cockburn) in the movie's opening.

Though Oscar Wilde's paradox about the excitement of romance versus the banality of marriage is clearly on display, the contrasts and nuances associated with each are never really addressed or developed in a meaningful way. The "either/or" premise - that new love is exciting, but familiar is not - is an idea I've never really accepted. Life and experience have shown more nuance and possibilities for both, but there is little exploration beyond the movie's basic conceit: that one is either unhappily married or happily unattached. By the time the credits role, that message seems as unfinished and depressing as Joe and Angela's apartment. There isn't even enough mental masturbation to keep things interesting.

*******

The Invite is currently playing in select theaters and scheduled to expand its release July 10, 2026. It rated "R" for language, adult subject matter and mild drug use. Though no streaming date has been announced, the movie should be available to stream later this summer or early fall on MAX.