STREAM IT OR SKIP IT: ‘OUTCOME’ ON APPLE TV, A HOLLYWOOD SATIRE IN WHICH JONAH HILL AND KEANU REEVES FIGHT OVER A TONE

So Reef visits the former manager who discovered him (Martin Scorsese!), an ex (Welker White) who rips him to shreds and his mother (Susan Lucci!), who capitalized on his fame. Meanwhile, Kyle and Xander act as his sounding board as they somewhat impatiently wait for their own apologies. And Ira routinely turns up to bulldoze Outcome with his caricature of insular Hollywood weirdos – he calls a meeting of legal specialists (Laverne Cox, Roy Wood Jr., Atsuko Okatsuka) in case the video is racist or sexist or whatever else might earn Reef a righteous canceling. Notably, Ira’s office is adorned with large portraits of Kanye West and Kevin Spacey, which I think is supposed to Tell Us Something as it makes us laugh? Which seems like the point of the entire movie, although whether it succeeds is debatable.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of? Jay Kelly was a disappointingly unfocused glimpse inside the life and head of a megaceleb, but it’s better than the flimsy, dissatisfying Outcome.

Performance Worth Watching: Reeves is 100 percent game for this role, quietly impassioned as someone who’s recently come into full awareness of himself. That the performance doesn’t really work within the framework of the film is symptomatic of Hill’s unfocused vision as a director.

Sex And Skin: None.

Our Take: “Honk if you can separate the art from the artist,” reads the bumper sticker on Ira’s car. It’s the funniest bit in a film that aims to muck about in the gray area of “cancel culture,” Hill hoping to stir up some laughs and insights from inside the Hollywood bubble. Does he ever burst it, though? He needs to, lest he alienate his audience of people who don’t know what it’s like to be burned by the spotlight (although they might be interested in better executed insiderism like The Studio), and Reeves does his damnedest to bring some soul to a character who finally has his feet on the ground after years of ugly conduct. 

But Reeves’ work only goes so far, bumping up against the screenplay’s frustrating vagueness, and fighting Hill’s obnoxious steamroller of a performance. Giving Hill the benefit of the doubt, the intention is likely to let the actors’ serious and comedic flourishes balance each other out, but as executed, it’s more of a grating tonal clash between thoughtful introspection and stabs at broad satirical comedy. Scenes between Reeves and Scorsese, Lucci and Diaz and Bomer get real and honest in a manner that’s affecting despite the sketchy writing (the lack of specificity makes it hard to wrap our heads around who Reef was in his out-of-control days compared to the fairly humble man he seems to be now now). 

And then Hill positions himself in the frame with ridiculous glasses, an overstyled beard, massive gleaming-white teeth and a scenery-devouring demeanor, suggesting what, exactly? Is he a savior? A necessary evil? Someone who perpetuates the best of Hollywood’s social ecosystem, or the worst? I’m not sure. When Hill isn’t on the screen, the film wrestles with ideas about what success and status truly mean, where happiness and peace can exist for people under extreme scrutiny, and how relationships play a role in shaping one’s personhood and helping one change for the better. Then Hill jostles Outcome from its rhythm, preventing these themes from emerging organically from the material and performances. Taking himself out of his movie might’ve made it better.