Michael Polish’s latest comedic effort attempts to channel the spirit of early Woody Allen through a female lens, but ultimately delivers a mixed bag of sharp observations and exhausted tropes. Jacqueline Singer stars as Victoria, an anxiety-plagued screenwriter who suspects her neighbor of stalking her—a premise that echoes Robert Altman’s industry classic, The Player, though with considerably less bite.
A Familiar Archetype, Reimagined
Singer, who also penned the screenplay, brings a distinctive presence to the screen with her petite frame, oversized spectacles, and relentless stream of self-deprecating humor centered on her Jewish identity and various psychological hang-ups. While her commitment to the role is undeniable, the material frequently fails to match her dedication. The rapid-fire quips land inconsistently, lacking the razor-sharp precision that defined Allen’s prime output.
Polish’s direction presents another challenge. Where Allen’s Annie Hall demonstrated remarkable subtlety in balancing comedy with introspection, Kill Me Now favors broad strokes and eccentric Hollywood antics that feel dated by at least a decade. The result is a film that knows what it wants to be but lacks the finesse to get there.
The Plot and Its Players
Victoria inhabits a sprawling hillside mansion where she’s supposedly crafting a screenplay that inevitably mirrors the film’s own events. The studio backing her project undergoes a comedic upheaval when its female executives are replaced by their male counterparts—a satirical swipe that yields some chuckles but never quite reaches the heights of its potential.
The film’s humor is peppered with industry in-jokes, including fictional studio hits like 2 Weddings and a Cremation and The Janitor Who Knew Too Much. These moments suggest an awareness of Hollywood’s absurdities but rarely transcend surface-level parody.
When not writing (which appears to be most of the time), Victoria navigates a series of eccentric encounters. Duke Nicholson—grandson of Jack—appears as the mysterious neighbor who may or may not be watching her. Mira Sorvino makes a cameo as Victoria’s erratic studio boss, while Judd Nelson portrays her therapist. Mario Van Peebles delivers some of the film’s most outlandish lines as Victoria’s Jewish dentist uncle, and Beverly D’Angelo and Keith Carradine round out the cast as her overly friendly neighbors.
Where the Film Finds Its Footing
Interestingly, Kill Me Now becomes more compelling when it abandons its quirkier tendencies and embraces darker, more personal territory. Victoria’s involvement with an L.A. police officer—portrayed by Balthazar Getty—introduces a thread of self-destructive vulnerability that feels genuinely intriguing. Her confession about intimacy struggles carries more weight than any of the Hollywood satire surrounding it.
These moments suggest what the film might have been: a more grounded exploration of a woman’s psychological landscape rather than a scattershot parody of an industry that’s been lampooned countless times before.
Final Thoughts
Polish, whose career spans from the cult hit Twin Falls Idaho to a Jack Kerouac adaptation and even a western, brings visual competence to the project. However, the film remains stuck in a perpetual deadpan, lacking the emotional depth it occasionally hints at.
There’s something authentic about Singer’s screen presence—a quality that feels refreshingly out of place amid Hollywood’s manufactured glamour. One can’t help but wish she’d found a vehicle better suited to her talents.