Olivia Wilde’s The Invite reignites the power and potential of clever adult comedies

Screenshot 2026 07 08 At 20406pm

Courtesy A24

Among many complaints about the current state of the film industry is the decline of the mid-budget comedy. For the most part, comedy films are currently stuck in the realm of straight-to-streaming, not helped by many contemporary comedy directors failing to make the case for comedy as a genre with just as much visual potential as drama, action, or horror.

This was not always the case.

Prior to the current drought, comedies were everywhere. They existed in many flavors, from screwball to slapstick to rom-com (both the syrupy J-Lo/Kate Hudson variety and the more literate Nora Ephron/Nancy Meyers kind). They appealed to goof-hungry teenagers and sophisticated adults looking for a night out that didn’t ask them to compromise their intellect. Comedies were once capital-M Movies that compelled you to look at them, not second screen experiences that made you laugh occasionally while checking Instagram.

Remember that when you’re watching Olivia Wilde’s The Invite.

Let yourself appreciate how smart, funny and surprisingly poignant this movie is. Note its excellent directorial choices, from casting Wilde and Seth Rogen as embattled spouses and Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton as their sexually intimidating upstairs neighbors, to the 35mm film grain and vintage-y decor designed to make you think of An Unmarried Woman and Scenes from a Marriage. Notice how Wilde remembers to play with the frame in ways few current comedy filmmakers do.

Notice all of this and remember the kinds of movies we deserve to have but don’t get anymore. Then yell about it as loud as you can.

Wilde and Rogen play Angela and Joe, middle-aged San Franciscans whose marriage has devolved over years of undiscussed resentment. On a whim, Angela invites their new neighbors Pina (Cruz) and Hawk (Norton) over for dinner. Angela hopes Pina and Hawk’s coolness (and maybe the secret to their extra-loud lovemaking) will rub off on her and Joe. Joe, blindsided by the invitation, is tired, grumpy and considers Pina’s ear-shattering orgasms a nuisance.

Over the course of the night, these two couples get to know each other, making unexpected connections (Angela and Hawk are both really into interior design, while Pina and Joe bond over weed-smoking and music) and eventually airing each other’s dirty laundry. Surprising revelations and solicitations emerge. Sympathies shift. Casual observations unearth deep-seated insecurities. All of this circles around a thorny central question: How do you know if your partnership has run its course? And what can you do about it?

Rashida Jones and Will McCormack’s script feels theatrical in its wit and slowly escalating stakes.

There are knee-slappers (Hawk and Pina have a Ring camera attached to their apartment’s peephole that “flags aggression”), and payoffs to longer-running bits (the jamón Angela orders to impress Pina may or may not just be prosciutto). All four performers commit to hilariously unflattering physical performances, from Rogen’s FIFA player-level back pain complaints to an ill-fated liaison on a butcher block. The film’s underlying absurdity and bitter self-effacement recall early Albert Brooks movies like Lost in America and Real Life.

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Courtesy A24

Like those films, Wilde ensures The Invite is a visual comedy, not just a spoken one. An early shot zooms out on Joe, a music teacher, awash in a sea of empty auditorium chairs, utterly zoned out while his students rehearse. A later moment between Joe and Angela results in Joe pushing Angela awkwardly out of his way. Many contemporary comedies would do this in a wider shot, with Joe shoving Angela, and Angela overplaying it. Instead, Wilde uses a medium shot, composed so Rogen simply pushes her out of the frame entirely, turning what would be a small joke into a belly laugh.

The Invite is a movie for actual grownups—funny without sacrificing visual art, sophisticated without being pretentious.

Wilde maintains a finely-tuned balance here that’s been lost in contemporary comedies, and the result is deeply satisfying. The ease with which she pulls that off is both impressive and infuriating when you realize this is something we can still make, but have been denied for way too long.

Go watch this and make a stink about it. The people need to know.

Categories: Movies