Before getting into The Moment, I have to say this upfront. I saw Charli XCX back in 2013 at Filter Magazine’s Showdown at Cedar Street during SXSW. Look at that lineup and tell me that was not an all-timer. She was one of those must-see acts that year, maps out, schedule locked. She delivered then, and more than a decade later, she is still earning every ounce of love thrown her way.
The Moment opens with a title card disclaimer stating that names have been changed, which immediately tips its hand. This is not a clean biopic or a prestige glow-up story. It is shot like a guerrilla documentary, handheld cameras, awkward zooms, chaotic energy, and transitions so aggressive they border on seizure-inducing. It feels like footage you are not supposed to be watching, like someone left the camera rolling during a breakdown and decided to keep it in the final cut.
Set across a stretch beginning in September 2024, the film operates as a satire of fame, promo cycles, and the constant anxiety of existing in the entertainment industry. Charli XCX plays a heightened caricature of herself, but never in a way that feels smug or untouchable. If anything, she weaponizes vulnerability. Her Zoom sessions, packed schedules, and constant pressure feel painfully relatable, especially to anyone who has lived through deadline panic or creative burnout.
Charli is also genuinely funny. She knows how to use her face, her timing, and her discomfort. There is a running joke involving verbal consent that is so stupid it loops back around to brilliant, capped off by her having to literally say “I give verbal consent” so a lawyer can move the conversation forward. It is mocking the system while also acknowledging how absurdly real that system is.
The meet and greet sequence is another standout. It is awkward in exactly the way you expect. Fans bring gifts, trauma, and emotional monologues about how Charli saved their lives. It is uncomfortable, darkly hilarious, and brutally honest about the emotional labor expected from artists. The film breaks the fourth wall just enough to remind you that everyone involved knows how ridiculous this all is.
Alexander Skarsgard shows up like a chaos demon with Jim Carrey energy and absolutely levels up his comedy here. He is odd, over the top, reactionary, and somehow always landing the joke. The humor works because the performances are reactive rather than scripted to death. Scenes between him and Charli feel loose, dangerous, and alive.
Not every bit lands. A cameo from Kylie Jenner feels unnecessary, even if it technically serves the story. She delivers backhanded compliments while unknowingly shitting all over Charli, and while the moment is funny in concept, the performance itself is stiff. She feels less like a character and more like furniture that wandered into the frame to read lines. It is one of the few moments where the satire dulls instead of sharpens.
Another offbeat highlight is Maria, a herbalist aesthetician who lectures Charli about her body and skin while giving her an increasingly uncomfortable facial, only to abandon the treatment altogether and recommend a pile of creams instead. It is awkward, invasive, and perfectly tuned to the film’s ongoing theme of people projecting their values onto someone they barely understand.
Stylistically, the film sometimes feels like Borat or Trailer Park Boys, especially in the way it captures candid reactions and secretive-looking shots. Some jokes may get lost on American audiences due to UK slang and delivery, but the intent is clear. No one is safe. The industry, the fans, the handlers, the wellness crowd, the lawyers, all of it gets dragged.
Despite the constant jokes, drugs, and chaos, The Moment is surprisingly heartfelt. Little bits of Charli’s music are scattered throughout, and the film gives a genuine look at what goes into live performance and the relentless promo machine surrounding it. It captures the volatility of fame, identity, and persona, and the mental health cycle of an artist teetering on the edge.
The film has been marketed as a female counterpart to Marty Supreme, which I understand, but it honestly has more in common with The Smashing Machine. It is not a typical A24 film. It is a rise, fall, and rise again story that understands how corny people often make creative decisions for the coolest artists. It is clever, smart, and deeply aware of its own contradictions.
One line in particular hit hard. “It’s not chic to be the last one at the party, but I don’t like going home.” That sums up the entire film. Exhaustion, defiance, and the inability to walk away even when you know you should.
The final needle drop, Bitter Sweet Symphony, is perfect and hilariously on the nose given the context. If you walk into The Moment not being a Charli XCX fan, you will probably walk out as one. Through all the madness, what is most impressive is Charli herself. Unlike some other mega pop stars who have crossed into film, she is actually good. She is generous on screen, not self-indulgent, genuinely vulnerable, and completely game to make herself the punchline.
Super funny. Super poignant. Skarsgard is a legend. The supporting cast rules. But at the center of it all, The Moment belongs to Charli XCX, and she earns it.
Good times.
Jessie Hobson