Chris Rock’s Misty Green gives Rosalind Eleazar a formidable showcase, and she seizes it with a performance that turns a Hollywood cautionary tale into something bruising, funny and unexpectedly tender.
A24 will release the film on Friday, Oct. 9, following premieres at the Toronto and New York film festivals. The movie screened at the Toronto International Film Festival in Gala Presentations and marks Rock’s fourth feature as director. He also wrote the film, arriving 12 years after his previous writer-director effort, Top Five.
Eleazar, known for playing a tough MI5 operative mourning her partner on Slow Horses, stars as Misty, an actress whose career has stalled years after the end of the TV series that still defines her public image. She is remembered for an Emmy-winning role on a show called Red Eye, though the compliment tends to land badly when younger industry hopefuls tell her how much their parents loved it.
That tension sits at the heart of Rock’s film: Misty has talent, but talent is not rescuing her from eviction, professional distrust or the personal chaos gathering around her. She is broke, nearly out of housing options and carrying a reputation for volatility, including having once been fired from a film after punching a wardrobe woman in the face.
A Hollywood grind with sharp edges
The film places Misty under immediate pressure when Celine, played by Amy Landecker, arrives unannounced to remove her from the apartment that belonged to Celine’s late husband. Misty insists the apartment was given to her, but Celine allows only a one-week grace period before she must find somewhere else to live.
From there, the clock keeps ticking. Misty needs work quickly, but auditions are complicated by the industry’s memory of her past behavior and by her own impulse-control problems. Rock’s portrait of Los Angeles is not simply glamorous or cruel; it is both at once, a place where fame remains visible but rejection, class pressure, racial disparity and gendered obstacles shape the daily experience of trying to stay employed.
The film is frequently funny without forcing itself into broad comedy. Its humor is wrapped in melancholy, and Rock’s direction keeps the tone grounded even when the situations become absurd or painful. Compared with Top Five, which centered on a stand-up comic trying to be taken seriously while dealing with substance-abuse history, Misty Green is described as mellower and more reflective. Misty is not framed as the same kind of addict; she is more of a dabbler whose difficulty saying no to partying can wreck professional opportunities.
Her personal life offers little relief. Her brother Jay, played by Daniel Kaluuya, has recently been released from a psych ward and remains in a precarious mental state. Misty is both protective and burdened, emotionally and financially, by his need for support.
Adam Driver plays Zach, Misty’s slick, insincere occasional hook-up, who lures her toward a lucrative arrangement tied to a lavish Dubai party for a frisky emir. In one of the film’s more garish glimpses of money and degradation, Zach throws Birkin bags, jewelry and cash to a crowd of paid models. The role pushes Driver into especially unlikable territory.
The people still in Misty’s orbit
Anna Kendrick plays Naomi, Misty’s straight-talking best friend and one of the few uncomplicated sources of support in her life. Their scenes include workouts at a gym near the Santa Monica Pier, with Naomi serving as a sounding board for Misty’s anxiety.
Topher Grace appears as Randy, Misty’s agent, whose patience has worn down after another failed audition. His assessment is blunt: “No one wants to work with you. You’re too difficult!”
Rock gives himself a key supporting role as Jordan, a director who once had to fire Misty because of her anger issues but has not entirely written her off. Jordan is staying in her apartment building while auditioning actors for a Dreamgirls remake. He remains cautious about Misty, yet open enough to suggest that the industry has not completely closed its doors.
That possibility becomes more complicated after Misty gets high with Zach during an impromptu date with Jordan, leading to a car accident that leaves both Misty and Jordan injured. Back at the apartment, with eviction still looming, Misty pours her alcohol and pills down the drain.
Rock’s Jordan also gets some of the film’s most pointed comic lines, including, “All civil rights movies suck, you wanna know how I know? Because white people like them!” But the character is not merely a punchline delivery system. He is written with empathy for people like Misty, performers who have tasted success and then been worn down by closed doors.
Eleazar’s defining showcase
Eleazar’s performance gives the film its charge. Misty can be abrasive, reckless and self-defeating, yet the role is built to show the depth of her artistry as well as the damage behind her defenses. Two musical moments are central to that portrait: a torchy rendition of “One Night Only” during her Dreamgirls audition and a heartfelt version of Radiohead’s “Creep” at a Hollywood Roosevelt lounge bar gig.
The film’s ensemble also includes Alexandra Shipp, Tracie Thoms, Necar Zadegan, Rich Sommer and Anthony Anderson, who appears in a cameo as a Black cop who pulls Jay over twice without cause beyond racial profiling. When Jay later lands in prison, Misty feels compelled to raise an exorbitant bail amount, pushing her toward desperate decisions that threaten to derail her career goals again.
Rated R and running 1 hour and 44 minutes, Misty Green is ultimately a showbiz survival story about an actress caught between gift and grievance, ambition and self-sabotage. Rock’s film is breezy enough to entertain, but its view of the Hollywood hustle is steeped in sadness. Above all, it belongs to Eleazar, whose turn as Misty makes the character’s flaws inseparable from her magnetism.