Amidst a sea of extremely somber and joyless cinema (“Cold War” by Paweł Pawlikowski, “Everybody Knows” by Asghar Farhadi, and “The Gray Man” by James Gray) in Cannes, there was still a bright spot – the vibrant directorial debut of Jordan Firstman, “Club Kid.” The film also marks the return to the big screen of the talented actress and model Cara Delevingne.
Perhaps you know Firstman from his viral Instagram sketches, or you recall his light, charismatic acting in the film “I Love Los Angeles.” In “Club Kid,” Firstman proves himself a man of many talents, as he is the director, screenwriter, and lead actor. At first glance, the film seems safe and lighthearted, but it ultimately proves to be much deeper. It subtly sneaks up on the viewer with unexpected emotional weight that truly throws you off balance. And all the while, it’s a wildly engaging story.
It all begins in the bustling, pre-pandemic New York of 2016. Rihanna’s “Sex with Me” blares in an Uber, and professional partygoer Peter (Firstman), his best friend and business partner Sophie (a welcome return to the screen for Cara Delevingne), and their entire entourage are rushing to one of their monthly, no-holds-barred club parties. Money flows like water, but they know how to let loose just as much – drugs, questionable decisions, and fragmented memories of nights no one fully recalls.
Then we jump forward about ten years – and it seems almost nothing has changed. Peter is still organizing parties, waking up mid-day, starting his mornings with lines of cocaine, lounging endlessly in bed, watching anime porn, meeting men on apps, and arriving at important work meetings in a completely inappropriate state. Sophie, thoroughly fed up, threatens to cut him out of the business, but Peter desperately tries to prove he can be responsible. And that’s precisely when he receives the biggest responsibility of his life: a former attendee of his club parties appears at his doorstep with ten-year-old Arlo (Reggie Absolom), who has just flown in from London, and announces – get this – that he is his son.
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It seems the boy is the result of a long-forgotten sexual encounter with some wild Brit – although Peter himself is almost convinced he’s never slept with women at all. Following Arlo’s mother’s sudden death, he is now under Peter’s care. The deceased’s friend states she always wanted her son to have a connection with his biological father. Peter attempts to get rid of the child, but when that fails, this charming and slightly quirky buddy comedy truly kicks into high gear.
Peter, who has spent his life panicking and avoiding any responsibility, now tries to enroll Arlo in school and sort out his health insurance; he tidies up his own life a bit; and Arlo himself integrates surprisingly organically into the world of endless night raves. The musically gifted teenager even steps behind the DJ booth with his newfound father.
But reality inevitably catches up, and the fairytale begins to crack. Can Peter and Arlo remain together? And, perhaps more importantly, should they? What will truly be best for Arlo?
Firstman masterfully balances rough comedy with genuine tenderness. Yes, there’s one overly sentimental, drawn-out speech and somewhat simplistic exploration of trauma, but these are minor flaws rather than the essence of the film. Its heart lies in explosively funny scenes and lines that you find yourself quietly chuckling at hours later, while watching other films in Cannes.
The New York crafted by the director feels alive and textured; the direction is confident; Cristóbal Tapia de Veer’s score is pulsating; and the parties are sticky, chaotic, and dangerously beautiful, as if suspended on the edge between pleasure and self-destruction. The superb ensemble of recurring partygoers adds credibility and life to Firstman’s world. (Though Diego Calva, as Peter’s romantic interest, clearly deserved more screen time.) Add to this Firstman’s own natural charisma and his surprisingly nuanced connection with Absolom’s Arlo – and you have a film you want to linger in until morning, sprawled on the floor as if in friends’ apartments after another party.
Peter himself slips into the role of a father as easily as if he were born for it. Can a person change that quickly? Is it really that simple? Beneath all of Firstman’s bravado, there’s a certain fear of showing Peter as less appealing – as someone who can make serious mistakes, cause pain, or even clash with Arlo. And yet, despite all the caveats, “Club Kid” ultimately hits the mark in the finale – with a subtle, almost imperceptible scene that gives you goosebumps and a lump in your throat. Like its protagonist, this film is funny, warm, nonsensical, wildly entertaining, occasionally irritating, and prone to slipping into clichés, but it’s almost impossible not to fall in love with it. If only all the films on the Croisette were this much fun.