‘The Invite’ review: Olivia Wilde’s sex comedy is outrageous fun

Whatever you may think of Olivia Wilde as a filmmaker, it’s impossible to deny she has a good eye for crafting comedy. In 2019, the American actress who’d proved herself as a sultry starlet thrilled audiences and critics alike with her directorial debut Booksmart. Universally lauded, the teen comedy teamed Beanie Feldstein and Kaitlyn Dever as a pair of intellectually bright but socially oblivious besties, and the results were heart-warming and hilarious. 

With Wilde’s follow-up, however, she fumbled. Don’t Worry Darling, a psychological thriller starring Florence Pugh and Harry Styles, was not only plagued with rumors of on-set discord and bad press before it even premiered, but savaged by critics once it did for its nonsensical plotline and underwhelming leading man. 

Thankfully, Wilde’s back with another comedy that combines sexual anxiety with a crackling cast. Pulling double duty as director and star, Wilde appears opposite Seth Rogen, Penélope Cruz, and Edward Norton in The Invite. The quartet plays two couples whose relationships shift dramatically over the course of one dinner party. 

Together, they create a sex comedy that’s absolutely hysterical, ribbed with cringe and swagger. But Wilde is the film’s weak link. 

The Invite is blisteringly funny. 

Based on Cesc Gay’s critically heralded 2020 Spanish comedy Sentimental, The Invite is largely confined to a sprawling San Francisco apartment that’s been newly renovated. There lives bickering married couple Angela (Wilde) and Joe (Rogen), with their young daughter, who will be spoken of but never seen as she’s away for a slumber party on this pivotal night. 

Screenwriting team Will McCormack and Rashida Jones (Celeste and Jesse Forever) swiftly establish the disharmony in this home with the kind of lived-in arguments that begin mundane, but grow malevolent as the years go by. Thus, when Joe tumbles in after an uninspired day as a music teacher for bored band geeks, he’s met not with a greeting but with Angela’s demand that he take his shoes off and put away his folding bike before he can even take a breath. 

An aspiring artist who’s channeled all her creative energy into this renovation, Angela is desperate to impress the couple’s chic upstairs neighbors, Pina (Penélope Cruz) and Hawk (Edward Norton), who she’s invited over for dinner. After months of seeing them in the elevator or hearing them through the floor, Angela is practically giddy to get closer to this curious couple. Joe, on the other hand, mostly wants to tell them to quiet down their loud late-night sex — in part because hearing such thunderous lovemaking only makes the quiet chasteness of their own bedroom all the more obvious. 

But as suggested in The Invite‘s first teaser, Pina and Hawk bring more than a bottle of wine to this dinner party. Oozing a seductive confidence, the flirtatious pair seem ever on the verge of tumbling into PDA or an indecent proposal. The tension of The Invite‘s second act is how Joe and Angela will handle such an offer, with one seemingly crushing ahead of their arrival and the other convinced he’ll be crushed by the results. 

You likely won’t predict exactly how this could-be orgy plays out. But you will cackle at The Invite‘s sex-positive yet preposterously silly climax. 

Seth Rogen, Penélope Cruz, and Edward Norton are fantastically funny in The Invite. 

To Wilde’s credit, she initially puts her co-stars in their comfort zones. Rogen plays an insecure stoner whose self-defense mechanism is jokes. Norton is his foil, a frustratingly confident and erudite man who’s dashing and nakedly in touch with his own feelings. As Pina, Cruz oozes an easy sensuality with an enviable cool. 

However, The Invite pushes past these familiar places, giving the actors room to stretch into comic extremes. Rogen’s stoner pops off with comically combative observations. Norton’s non-toxic masculinity blooms into a bizarre runner about Hawk’s deep love of floor rugs. And Cruz’s mature breeziness persists whether she’s talking about her flan recipe or her love of pegging. But the way she repeatedly says “my boobs” with pointed nonchalance is hilarious all on its own. 

Whether they are fighting or flirting, there’s a heady intensity in The Invite, reminiscent of the tension of Roman Polanski’s Carnage, which also featured two couples in one room, hashing out much more serious problems. As a director, Wilde thoughtfully stages the unfolding sexual tension across an apartment full of corners perfect for heated exchanges and innuendo. The static camera favored by cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra creates an unobtrusive view into this intimate night. Wide shots early on give us a sense of distance from the lovers, but creep into close-ups as the topics get hotter. 

This creates a claustrophobic atmosphere that exacerbates the social stakes of each interaction. Because, of course, if tonight gets weird, Joe and Angela will still see Pina and Hawk in the elevator, in the lobby, and through their windows. So, a sense of cat-and-mouse comes into play, where it’s not enough to say what’s screaming in their hearts, but to do so in a way that feels like winning. Because if they don’t, they’ll always be losers in this newly renovated home. 

Working with editors Anthony Boys and Yorgos Mavropsaridis, Wilde builds a tension in The Invite that was too often absent in Don’t Worry, Darling. And to her credit, she’s committed to capturing Angela’s electrifying need to be seen through every comment about interior design, each placement of an appetizer, and any glance at Joe, Pina, or Hawk. But she can’t keep up with her cast. Where Rogen, Cruz, and Norton seem to bloom over the course of the film, Wilde seems to be straining to flesh out Angela from an archetypal self-hating nag. The other performances here feel lived-in, perhaps because the actors in them begin in familiar roles. But Wilde, whose niche might be the unflappable beauty (Tron: Legacy; Don’t Worry, Darling) begins in a place of strained panic, and even as Angela begins to relax, the strain persists. 

It’s easy to understand why she’d want to be a part of this ensemble even as she directs the film. But when her co-stars are operating at such a high level of developing sexual tension, comedic timing, and pathos, Wilde’s performance feels thinner in comparison. Which is not to say hers is not a good performance — it’s just not a great one.

This qualm aside, I was enchanted by The Invite. McCormack and Jones’ screenplay is smartly written, bringing emotional depth to all four lovers, while solidly establishing the relatable frustrations of long-term relationships. Wilde’s direction is deceptively simple in its aesthetic, favoring cinematography that allows us to spy without the discomfort of voyeurism. This keeps the tone light even as the talk turns dirty. And with an ensemble that’s totally game to embrace the silly, sexy, and subversive, The Invite is ruthlessly entertaining. 

The Invite opens in theaters on July 3.