Films for Breakfast

Charli XCX has been dropping hits since I was in high school. I’ve never considered myself a mega fan, but I’ve always been fascinated by her style and her constant reinvention – each album feels like a new persona, a new era. Then came Brat summer, which took that reinvention to an entirely different level. What started as a marketing push for a new album quickly evolved into a full-blown cultural phenomenon. “Brat” stopped being an album title and became part of the lexicon; Charli herself became synonymous with the word. And it felt like it happened overnight. With Brat summer unfolding alongside the Kendrick and Drake beef, 2024 might genuinely go down as one of the most pivotal years for music lore in recent memory.

Like all good things, Brat summer eventually faded. And yet, here Charli is, turning the chaos into a film with The Moment. The movie exists in a strange, compelling space: a fictional mockumentary that constantly flirts with breaking the fourth wall, tipping fully into comedy, or even veering toward horror. The tones don’t always weave together seamlessly, but that messiness becomes part of the appeal. It’s an ambitious tonal cocktail that’s more fascinating than it is polished.

The opening sequence is absolute dynamite. It begins in full sensory overload, plunging you straight back into the neon heat of Brat. Colors burst, lights strobe, and Charli performs like her life depends on it. What follows is a frequently hilarious look at life on tour. Even within the mockumentary framework, so much of it feels uncomfortably real. One of the film’s funniest threads involves Alexander Skarsgård as Johannes, a director hired to helm Charli’s Amazon concert special. What’s pitched as a seamless collaboration quickly devolves into passive-aggressive tension, as Charli fights to preserve her vision against the flattening instincts of corporate streaming.

The film repeatedly threatens to go darker. A standout sequence finds Charli attempting to unplug at a remote wellness retreat, only to spiral further – unable to disconnect, compulsively answering emails to keep the tour from imploding. The movie excels at capturing painfully awkward interactions: fan meet-and-greets that feel slightly off, pushy executives, and a genuinely hilarious moment where a hotel employee denies her service purely based on her “vibes.”

What ultimately makes The Moment so compelling is its direction and visual language. Aidan Zamiri’s approach is frenetic yet strangely intimate, creating something both overwhelming and deeply personal. Sean Price Williams’ cinematography is equally striking; from the close-ups that feel invasive, the shaky voyeurism that borders on documentary realism, and all colliding with blasts of sensory excess – it all adds so much to the feel of the film. It’s chaotic in a way that feels intentional, even thematic.

The film isn’t without its flaws. I’m not convinced it fully sticks the landing, and at times it seems more confident in its ideas than in their execution. It juggles tone, theme, and satire all at once, and the seams definitely show. But at the same time, it’s unlike anything I’ve seen – mockumentary or otherwise. It’s bold, messy, and unmistakably original. Far from perfect, but absolutely worth experiencing.