Review: ‘Misty Green’ is an unfocused force of nature

We meet Misty Green (Rosalind Eleazar, Slow Horses) the morning after decades of partying. Her apartment is a mess, full of drugs, and it’s not even hers—she’s been squatting in the apartment of a dead lover whose widow (Amy Landecker, Transparent) has finally had enough, giving Misty seven days to get out only because she was a fan of a TV show Misty starred on nearly 20 years ago. Though she won an Emmy, it’s all been downhill from there, and it’s mostly Misty’s fault. 

While my Dad has been talking about Slow Horses for years and I swear I’ll get around to watching it someday, this is my first time seeing Rosalind Eleazar in anything. And damn, she is a force of nature as Misty Green, a character that wouldn’t work without such a strong performer behind her. Depending on the scene, Eleazar is a voracious man-eater, a still-talented singer and performer who’s a superstar diva only in her mind, a worried but fed-up sibling with a mentally ill brother, and so much more. She’s in every scene and sells every part of Misty’s journey, even when it doesn’t always make much sense. It’s a standout performance that, in a better movie, would certainly be one of the most talked-about of the year. 

Chris Rock has a knack for hilarious, biting dialogue; you could read most lines from Misty Green in his voice and imagine them as part of a stand-up set. Not having written and directed a movie since 2014’s Top Five, it feels like he put every single idea he had into Misty Green, making it so overstuffed with subplots that the central thread—Misty has seven days to somehow fix her career and land a huge part so that she’s not homeless—loses all sense of urgency. 

For instance, Misty also has to deal with her brother (Daniel Kaluuya in his first role in four years), a bipolar ex-con whose mental illness conveniently shifts depending on the scene. Her friend (Anna Kendrick) is about to get engaged, but might be pregnant with another man’s child. There’s a killer on the loose who could be her brother, but it’s also a way for Rock to insert the most Crash-level commentary on police brutality. Misty has rivalries with young actresses and casting agents, a budding romance with Rock’s character, and another relationship with a sleazy pimp director (Adam Driver) who wants her to come to Dubai, where she could make a lot of money sleeping with an Arab prince in what is probably the first case of Checkov’s Dubai prostitution. 

That’s not even all of it. The more Rock includes, the further we get from any tension and the more we get into genuinely interesting Hollywood criticism. Misty opens with a montage of bland Hollywood tourist photos full of homeless people, drug addicts, and bad paparazzi photos of celebrities that immediately strip away any glamor. Misty’s world is one of awkward cellphone audition tapes for stereotypical crack addict bit parts being gatekept by a talent agent (Traci Thoms, Rent, The Devil Wears Prada) she pissed off years ago. Rock’s part as a similarly down-on-his-luck director reduced to a cheap Canadian reboot of Dreamgirls is another funnel for his criticism of Hollywood. But moments like when a casting director tries to suss out Misty’s ethnicity or Hollywood as a path to prostitution don’t get the weight and attention they deserve in such a crowded movie. 

Criticisms aside, this is still a fun, and often funny, movie with a stacked cast, held together by a fantastic breakthrough performance that, in a year with a sleepier release schedule, could have been an Oscar contender. Like Misty herself, if she hadn’t kept getting in the way, this movie could have been great with more focus and urgency.