Film Review: Messy (2024) - USA

Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 8/10
Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
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A Cracked Mirror Held Up to Modern Love - Director / Actress Alexi Wasser’s “Messy" arrives not with a whimper, but with a clatter of empty wine bottles, the echo of therapy-speak, and the frantic ping of a dating app notification. This sharp, neurotic, and frequently hilarious sex comedy feels like a long-overdue tremor in the landscape, a distinctly female, contemporary response to the intellectual romps Woody Allen used to peddle through the streets of Manhattan. Wasser, serving as writer, director, and star, doesn’t just borrow the master’s nervous energy; she cracks it open, injects it with raw 21st-century anxiety, and holds the messy, beating heart right up to the camera.
The comparisons are inevitable, perhaps even invited. Wasser channels that specific brand of urban neurosis – the kind dissected on analysts' couches and fueled by existential dread disguised as romantic obsession – territory Allen long claimed as his male domain. Stella Fox (Wasser herself) is our guide through this modern maze: a "brutally self-aware, promiscuous love addict," as the film aptly brands her. Like Annie Hall navigating her own psychic rubble, Stella prioritizes the journey over the destination. The plot? A loose framework upon which Wasser hangs ceaselessly funny, darkly comic banter. Audience reviews praising its capture of a "jagged kind of truth" about modern connection are dead right. This dialogue *crackles* – sharp, self-lacerating, painfully observant, and often delivered with the desperate velocity of someone trying to outrun their own thoughts.
Stella is a challenging protagonist, narcissistic yet disarmingly vulnerable, perpetually circling the drain of self-destructive choices. Her endless therapy sessions feel less like progress and more like performance art, while her romantic dalliances across a grimy-chic New York are compulsive train wrecks we can't look away from. Wasser surrounds her with a perfectly curated ensemble. Adam Goldberg and Thomas Middleditch, as key foils, are pitch-perfect, their own neuroses bouncing off Stella’s chaotic energy like frantic pinballs, providing moments of grounding and exasperated counterpoint.
Yes, the whispers are there: the dismissive critiques labeling it a "woe is me" nepo-baby enterprise. But here’s where "Messy" earns its stripes, and its rating. Wasser, known for the raw confessionalism of her blog “I’M BOY CRAZY”, doesn’t shy away from autobiography. She leans into the mess. This isn't mere pastiche; it's a subversion. Beneath the rapid-fire jokes and Stella’s curated persona of chaotic glamour, the film possesses a surprisingly dark undertow. "Messy" subtly charts the compulsive, often dangerous patterns of seeking validation in the wrong beds and the wrong heads, elevating it beyond simple comedy into a more profound, unsettling character study.
And then, there’s the ending. So many indie comedies of this ilk build fascinating characters only to abandon them with a shrug or a cheap punchline. Not "Messy." The final ten minutes are, as many have noted, its masterstroke. Without spoiling, it delivers a thought-provoking, almost devastating punchline that reframes everything that came before. It doesn’t absolve Stella, but it justifies the journey, transforming her narcissism into a cracked lens revealing a painful, universal truth. It’s the payoff that makes the preceding chaos resonate.
“Messy" is precisely what its title promises, and that’s its strength. It’s a "coming-of-age story for a woman who should have already come of age," a brutally honest, fiercely funny, and ultimately poignant examination of modern loneliness and the compulsive search for connection in all the wrong digital and physical alleys. Wasser announces herself as a vital new voice, unafraid to let her protagonist be difficult, her truths uncomfortable, and her comedy cut deep. It’s a home run for lovers of whip-smart dialogue and character-driven chaos, proving that sometimes, the most profound truths are found not in tidy resolutions, but in the glorious, heartbreaking mess left behind. (Neo, 2026)
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