‘The Moment’ review: Singer Charlie XCX lampoons her brat-era fame in chaotic mockumentary

Dir: Aidan Zamiri. US. 2026. 103mins

Charli XCX’s album brat became such a cultural phenomenon on its release in 2024 that it inspired an entire ’brat summer’, and Collins Dictionary crowned ‘brat’ as their word of the year – defining it as a “confident, independent and hedonistic attitude”. There’s no lack of confidence in Glaswegian director Aidan Zamiri’s mockumentary, which sees Charli play a version of herself in the run up to her first arena tour. Charli showcases her acting talent after a string of supporting roles, but The Moment is a hit and miss affair that is light on story and struggles to blend the satiric tone with its more soul-searching plot beats.

Struggles to blend the satiric tone with more soul-searching beats

Premiering at Sundance Film Festival, where Charli also puts in a notable supporting turn in Gregg Araki’s I Want Your Sex, The Moment will have an eagerly awaiting fanbase when A24 opens it in the US on January 30, with a UK/Ireland release from Universal Pictures International following on February 20 and further territories to follow.

Debut feature director Zamiri, who previously collaborated with Charli on her videos for ‘360’, ’Guess (Remix)’ and other projects, plunges us into the alternative Charli’s world with just weeks to go until the brat tour. Record label chief Tammy (Roseanna Arquette) is trying to keep brat summer on the boil, with ideas including a brat credit card and drafting in director Johannes (Alexander Skarsgard) to make a concert film for Amazon Music.

Skarsgard plays Johannes as a walking ego, muscling in on the tour aesthetic that has been created by creative director Celeste (Hailey Benton Gates) and adding kitsch elements, including a gigantic lighter that shoots out flame. While Skarsgard steals almost every scene he’s in, Zamiri and his co-writer Bertie Brandes don’t capitalise as much as they might on the ludicrousness of Johannes’ mainstream stylings, torn between that and giving Charli a soul-searching moment as she’s hoisted into the air like a cut-price Peter Pan.

Zamiri also cheats somewhat with the mockumentary element, using so many angles that, despite the hyper-kinetic camerawork from Sean Price Williams, the action appears too slick to be real fly-on-the-wall. The chaotic nature of the scripting also means that the large ensemble cast – including Jamie Demetriou as Charlie’s nice but ineffectual manager Tim – struggle to make an individual impression. And while some jokes land, others get lost in the noise of everyone talking at once.

When the pace does slow, the humour and self-doubt mix more successfully; notably in a scene involving Kylie Jenner playing an exaggerated version of herself, and one in which Charli locks horns with a beautician and herbalist (French veteran Arielle Dombasle, Pauline at The Beach) over the toll her lifestyle is taking on her skin.

While there are one or two tracks from Charli, along with additional music from her long-time collaborator A G Cook, this is a film instead focused on questions surrounding what comes after megastardom. It’s not every successful artist that would be willing to show the vulnerable side of fame and, as Charli says goodbye to ‘brat’, she also lays claim to a potential new chapter on screen.