My introduction to Chris Rock came at a turning point in his career. He was best known to my generation as a curious, hippo-loving zebra named Marty in the “Madagascar” movies. His one-of-a-kind voice is still so clear in my mind from his feature on Kanye West’s best album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Yet his professional legacy is expansive and longstanding; after success as a stand-up comedian, he lands a staff roll at “Saturday Night Live” in the early ’90s, leading to several appearances in different forms on TV and in film. As a filmmaker, he leans into familiarity, making comedies like “Top Five” and “I Think I Love My Wife,” but with his newest movie, “Misty Green,” he puts his post-slap maturity on display to make his own ode to L.A.
“Misty Green,” is brought to life by British actress, Rosalind Eleazar, who plays the titular character with a captivating, nothing-to-lose attitude. The movie swirls around Misty’s chaotic decisions and 7-day deadline to find a new apartment after being kicked out by her house by her deceased lover’s wife (Amy Landecker). We’re introduced to her in a messy state–sleeping on top of the covers, make up smeared, drugs everywhere, still adorned in last night’s lingerie. This moment makes us wonder if Misty has ever really had a sense of accountability, and without knowing much about her past, we’re on a seven day ride to see what she’s really capable of.
A gaggle of misfit men surround Misty. Jordan Green (Daniel Kaluuya), her struggling brother, drops back into her life, and funnily, Rock writes himself as another Jordan Green, the director of a “Dreamgirls” remake. The true bad boy in Misty’s life is a mysterious director named Zach (Adam Driver), who has never successfully put out a movie and summons her to a party, providing her with the opportunity to dabble in substances and sex work. The only women in Misty’s life are her best friend, Naomi (a miscast Anna Kendrick) and a Shonda Rhimes dupe, Rhonda (Tracie Thoms). There is an ongoing joke that makes Misty the butt of it, calling her out that she really doesn’t have friendship with these people; she doesn’t even know their birthdays. The film calls out a larger symptom of Hollywood’s interpersonal dynamics, which is that these people do not truly know one another.
Mirroring a common Hollywood occurence, Rock includes an audition scene where Misty is interrupted more than once. After demanding she should finish the audition, she leaves the room and is deemed difficult (on top of already having beef with others on the production due to her sexual misconduct with other peoples’ husbands). While her audition proved she is a phenomenal actor, her later hotel lounge work reveals that Misty does really know how to sing, too. Misty’s early success, winning an Academy Award for her role on the fictional show “Red Eye,” led to recognition. She’s beautiful, she’s fit, she’s talented, but this diva is down bad.
“Misty Green,” the movie and the woman, is complicated and stretched thin. Despite the overall girlboss, best in business energy Misty embodies, her entitled outlook on work is bolstered by men who desire her. Repeatedly, the film highlights her as a wrongdoing mistress. Although she progressively claims to not believe in marriage, nor monogamy, Misty, moreover, is simply selfish and reckless. Her male-centered life is stale, considering how picky she claims to be about the roles she wants. Her behavior constantly counters what the film wants the audience to believe, which is that she is capable of getting her shit together and seizing an opportunity that’s handed to her. Rock intends to unearth the financial struggles of all players in the filmmaking ecosystem; at the end of the day, everyone really needs to get paid and get paid well. But what happens when ego swallows any semblance of grit?
Eleazar is stellar in every second, giving depth to Misty that the film only shows us in flashback vignettes of her and her brother’s childhood. There is an overt yet important dialogue between Misty and Jordan regarding race. As Black folk do, they make light of the situation they mutually find themselves in, but the weight of their reality as Black filmmakers is still near-crushing. What’s underdeveloped is the acknowledgement of Misty’s womanhood, the different level of struggle that Black women face in the industry.
Like many women, Misty is a, albeit poor, caretaker for her brother who goes through bouts of bipolar disorder. When Misty is soon unable to support Jordan due to her own instability, it sparks an aggressive episode and compiles the conflict at hand. Kaluuya, in his first role in almost 4 years, is scene stealing in the little screen time he has. While these moments of public display of mental illness are purposely uncomfortable, Jordan is never treated as a burden.
The multiple running jokes throughout the movie are valid, but eventually tire, mirroring the overuse of Charli XCX and Icona Pop’s “I Love it” as the party-scene song. However, the movie’s music, spearheaded by Marcus Miller, is genre-spanning and nuanced. The opening and closing scenes are decorated by classic Hollywood orchestras. At one of the film’s most honest moments, where Misty and Naomi sit together talking about their differing approaches in securing the future they want, Chopin’s “Nocturne” plays in the back, adding unexpected softness to a stressful moment. Yet, I find myself unconvinced of the binary presented in Naomi versus Misty’s logic; it settles as Rock playing up stereotypes that a woman is either a housewife or a whore.
In the end, the film is better served as a portrait of a woman putting herself first, as opposed to revealing Hollywood’s inequitable games. Rock’s recreation of these interwoven pieces, like gender, race, class, and wellness is identified accurately, but messy in execution. Ultimately, it’s a hodge podge of experiences that he may only know secondhand. However, this new era of Rock curiously moves from dominating the sandbox to eagerly trying again and again on the monkey bars.
This review was filed from the Toronto International Film Festival. It opens on October 9, 2026.
