Sundance 2021 review: How It Ends is a lackluster neo-apocalyptic comedy

With flicks like Babyteeth and Palm Springs receiving widespread critical acclaim last year, it looked like the age of the quirky, off-kilter, introspective comedy might be making a return — and How It Ends very much feels like an attempt to capitalize off that revival.

Unfortunately, though, the film can’t stick the landing in any capacity. The performances are flat, the script is sorely lacking in any kind of tension or stakes (ironic, considering it’s the end of the world), the jokes aren’t funny, and the dramatic moments feel manufactured. The cast is impressive, certainly, but a handful of goofy celebrity cameos does not a good film make.

Written, directed, produced by, and starring Zoe Lister-Jones (also sharing the first three credits with Daryl Wein), How It Ends follows Liza (Lister-Jones), a successful 30-something living in Los Angeles. When she finds out that the world is going to end the next day, she embarks on a journey to eliminate as many of her regrets as possible, and along for the ride is the physical manifestation of her younger self, played by Cailee Spaeny.

How It Ends tries to do a few different things but never really succeeds at any of them. It is, first and foremost, a dark(ish) bizzarro comedy about what the people of Los Angeles get up to when they think they’re all going to die tomorrow. There are plenty of off-kilter and obscure moments where Liz and her younger self run into all sorts of odd creatures while they’re walking around LA, but nine times out of 10, whatever joke the film is attempting falls flat. The writing is weak as it stands, but the unfunny script is not helped whatsoever by the lack of chemistry nearly everyone in this movie has with each other.

It often feels like a bad episode of New Girl or Girls –– trying for that brand of droll, self-aware, millennial-centric humor. But the unfortunate combination of its poor script and poor acting make it feel more like a rejected episode than anything else.

The only time the comedy works is if it’s coming from one of How It End‘s many celebrity cameos. Charlie Day, and Fred Armisen make for the film’s funniest moments, but that’s due to their natural charisma, not Lister-Jones and Weins’ uninspired script.

Then, there’s the introspective, pseudo coming-of-age side of How it Ends that tries to weave in a story of self-love and regret among the flat jokes. Throughout the film, as Liza and her younger self wander around the streets running into people, we’re constantly reminded of how much Liza doesn’t want to be alone when the world ends. She and her YS plan to end the evening at a party where Liza will (hopefully) hook up with the one that got away. Of course, by the end of the film, those plans have fallen through, but Liza learns that she isn’t alone after all, because she has her younger self by her side.

It’s the kind of insincere, utterly predictable, churned-out story you might expect from a Disney Channel Original Movie, not a Sundance premiere, and the lack of sincerity is not at all helped by the way all of the characters speak like caricatures, not human beings. We certainly have no complaints with taking your movie off the deep end, delving into sci-fi, or blurring the lines between truth and reality — but there’s no intentionality to how How It Ends plays with suspension of disbelief.

Instead of magnetic and intriguing, the idea of the Younger Selves and the sudden inexplicable apocalypse come off as sloppy afterthoughts, undercutting an already watery script with faux-creativity and flare.

Though there are moments where the editing and cinematography are charming (especially considering the film was entirely produced during the pandemic), How it Ends is a cringe-worthy slog of a film that is neither uplifting, unique, sincere, or even memorable. Though its who’s-who of a cast list may draw your interest, there’s very little the film does to keep it.