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But how much of The Weeknd is here, really? In his first leading role in a feature film, directed by Trey Edward Shults, Tesfaye plays a fictionalized version of himself, an insomniac musician (as made explicitly clear in the “Wake Me Up” leitmotif, where he sings, “Sun is never rising / I don’t know if it’s day or night”). He’s marred by a recent breakup from an ex portrayed in a cruel voicemail message (“I used to think you were a good person,” she says) and a hedonistic lifestyle, instigated by his superficial friend-manager Lee, played Barry Keoghan.

Shortly after Tesfaye loses his voice, a psychosomatic ailment, he meets superfan Amina, portrayed by She offers temporary comfort and, in return, is afforded no agency. She exists for him. Soon, the uninspired horrors begin, culminating in what recalls the torture scene in with less violence. Instead, Amina — when she is not weeping; I urge all viewers to keep a “cry count” and consider what feminist blogs might have to say — lip-syncs some of The Weeknd’s biggest hits back to him, explaining that they’re all about “emptiness and heartbreak.” Woven throughout is some conversation about absent fathers and fear of abandonment, with unearned delivery and first-draft acuity — something gesturing at depth without piercing the surface.

According to press materials, Amina and Lee are not real people but representations of Tesfaye. She is meant to represent Tesfaye’s disconnected, “deeper emotional self” — and Lee, his public persona. That is not made explicitly clear in the film, except in a very generous reading of the ending. Subtext only works when there is context to back it up, otherwise, you are left with “Hurry Up Tomorrow”: an exciting vanity project with surrealist imagination but stiff writing, no stakes, limited emotional weight and an unclear narrative.

That won’t be an issue for superfans, of course — those intimately familiar with The Weeknd’s music and career. This film appears to be for them and Tesfaye, a producer, alone; they have the framework in which to enjoy the runtime. Considering that fandom is the dominant form of popular culture, it’s not a bad business decision.

And it’s worked for him before. This is not Tesfaye’s first foray into acting. Aside from his he starred in ” He co-created the show with Sam Levinson, a show that similarly presented unearned provocation. At the time, “The Idol” received criticism for its sadomasochistic storytelling that emerged after a shift away from “the female perspective,” allegedly a request from Tesfaye. It was not a clever or subversive show, nor was it really even about anything, but it did inspire conversation. It’s easy to see how “Hurry Up Tomorrow” may have similar effects.

In a moment where autobiographical films about musicians are — Lego partnership comes to mind, as does Robbie Williams’ “ ” — “Hurry Up Tomorrow” feels like a misstep for those outside The Weeknd’s most devoted. Of course, the film does not identify as a biopic. But it could’ve benefited from less self-seriousness. And editing.

But what about the music? “Hurry Up Tomorrow” is connected to of the same name — and in The Weeknd’s record-breaking trilogy that began with 2020’s “After Hours” and continued with The album, the quietest of the series, worked as an allegory on the trials of fame — a topic long covered by the most successful purveyors of pop. Retrospectively, it works best as a film’s soundtrack than a stand-alone record, ambitious. Like the movie, it gestures at criticism of the celebrity-industrial complex without accomplishing it. It seems obvious, now, to learn that the movie predates the record.

The film’s strength far and away is its score, composed by Tesfaye with Daniel Lopatin (better known as the experimental electronic musician Oneohtrix Point Never and for his and “Uncut Gems” scores). It builds from Tesfaye’s discography and morphs into something physical and psychedelic — at its most elated, dread-filled and clubby. It is so affecting, it almost distracts from moments of dizzying cinematography, with the films’ penchant for spinning frames, zooms into upside skylines, blurred vision and erratic lights.

Those tools feel better suited for a music video, the kind of sophisticated visual world Tesfaye has developed in his pop career. They elevate his euphoric, layered, evocative dance-pop, but they do not translate in this film.

“Hurry Up Tomorrow,” a Lionsgate release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for language throughout, drug use, some bloody violence and brief nudity. Running time: 105 minutes. One and a half stars out of four.