‘Terrestrial’ review: A Hollywood success story hides a secret in dark US comedy

Dir: Steve Pink. US. 2025. 95mins.

In Hollywood, not everyone is as impressive as they make themselves out to be. Terrestrial turns that truism into a dark comedic thriller about a newly successful writer whose old friends suspect he might be hiding something. Director Steve Pink sets up an intriguing premise, led by a nicely enigmatic Jermaine Fowler (Sorry To Bother You, The Blackening). But the film grows increasingly more convoluted once the revelations unfold, and its exploration of envy, unrequited love and the dangers of mistaking fantasy for real life quickly loses steam.

Knowing performance runs aground once the plot mechanics take over

Filmmaker Pink previously directed the 2010 comedy Hot Tub Time Machine and its 2015 sequel, and has penned screenplays including High Fidelity (2000) and Grosse Pointe Blank (1997), which may help attract attention following Terrestrial’s Fantasia premiere. Buyers may also spark to a cast that features rising stars James Morosini and Pauline Chalamet, and those seeking a satire of Hollywood superficiality that sports plenty of twists and bloodshed could be on board. Theatrical prospects seem limited, however, with streaming a stronger possibility.

Allen (Fowler) has hit the big time. Living in a swanky Hollywood Hills mansion, he welcomes his visiting college friends: smitten lovebirds Ryan (Morosini) and Maddie (Chalamet) and their irreverent single pal Vic (Edy Modica). For years, Allen struggled to establish himself as a sci-fi writer, so they are shocked to see his luxurious lifestyle, which, he explains, is thanks to recently selling a book idea that will be adapted for a movie. But Allen keeps acting suspiciously — he seems distracted and nervous — which leads Ryan to wonder if there is something Allen is not telling them about his newfound success.

Pink hints at the forthcoming menace with an opening shot of a stunned Allen sitting inside his large, empty house, a trail of blood on the floor. That mysterious teaser puts the viewer on edge, so when Allen unconvincingly tells his buddies that he is a Hollywood power player, audiences will instantly share Ryan’s disbelief. (Not helping matters is the fact that when Allen describes the plot of his sci-fi blockbuster, it sounds dreadful.)

Fowler adeptly plays Allen with a serene grin that belies his otherwise blank expression — the telltale look of someone concealing the truth. In its early stages, Terrestrial has fun establishing the characters’ tense personal dynamics, while offering clues to what might be going on. Oddly, one room in the mansion is a cultish shrine devoted to the works of SJ Purcell (Brendan Hunt), a renowned sci-fi author whose magnum opus The Neptune Cycle was turned into a cheesy low-budget film that plays on a loop. But Allen is more focused on the news that Ryan is engaged to Maddie, with whom Allen had a brief fling in college. Allen tries to hide his disappointment while needling Ryan, whose dead-end job in medical sales is not nearly as exciting as his own Hollywood career.

Spoilers abound from here, but Samuel Johnson and Connor Diedrich’s screenplay flashes back three months to lay out the full picture of Allen’s deception. It brings additional context to earlier scenes, and a greater understanding of why he seems to be behaving so strangely. Correspondingly, James McAlister’s electronic score becomes more jittery, underlying the recklessness of Allen’s elaborate subterfuge that may soon fall apart.

If the surprises should not be ruined, it is fair to note the flashbacks speak to the insecurity inherent in a life committed to making it in Hollywood. Fowler conveys both Allen’s desperate hustle during the flashbacks and faux-humility around his friends — and in both timeframes, the actor channels the flop-sweat phoneyness of creative types trying to mask their inadequacy and lack of actual success. But the knowing performance runs aground once the plot mechanics take over. Soon, Terrestrial is so concerned with the logistics of Allen’s layered ruse and its unforeseen complications that the picture devolves into an inelegant farce, the body count rising as the implausibilities pile up.