A Love Letter to Loft Parties and Lost Time

MOVIE REVIEW
Messy Legends
-     

Genre: Comedy, Drama, Musical, Satire
Year Released: 2025
Runtime: 2h 2m
Director(s): Kelly Kay Hurcomb, James Watts
Writer(s): Kelly Kay Hurcomb, James Watts
Cast: Kelly Kay Hurcomb, James Watts, Emelia Hellman, Travis Cannon, Guillaume Mansour, Tranna Wintour, Nancy Webb, Anthony Assaf, Mitchell Cohen, Cooper Dale, Tara Desmond
Where to Watch: shown at the 2025 Fantasia Film Festival

RAVING REVIEW: In MESSY LEGENDS, the party never quite ends—it just changes, spirals, and explodes into something far more unhinged. Expanding on their acclaimed 2023 short, co-directors Kelly Kay Hurcomb and James Watts deliver a full-length, chaotic deep dive into Montreal’s nightlife, slacker culture, and the millennial generation’s lingering malaise. What begins as a loose, vibrant love letter to the Plateau’s underground scene turns into something messier, more introspective, and at times unexpectedly vulnerable.

The story is deceptively simple: a rotating ensemble of twentysomething characters drifts through a single night in Montreal, bar-hopping, clubbing, and spiraling into their fractured relationships and personal crises. At the center is Jessi, the original “messy legend” herself, played with fatigue by Hurcomb, whose performance holds equal parts irony and aching sincerity. She’s not so much the main character as she is the pull holding this orbit of party monsters together.

What makes MESSY LEGENDS feel alive is its refusal to be straightforward. The camera darts between rooms, characters, and music with manic glee, echoing the fragmented nature of nights like these—half-remembered, half-hoped-for, and wholly disorienting. There’s a hazy quality to the pacing, not because it’s slow, but because it feels real, almost documentary-like. You get the sense this was shot in the same clubs and lofts where the characters would party, often with the same people. It’s staged, yes—but it never feels like it.

MESSY LEGENDS, beyond a simple party narrative, is its total commitment to chaos—not just narratively, but structurally. It drifts in and out of moments, with sequences that feel found rather than directed. Conversations start mid-thought and end abruptly. Characters vanish for stretches, only to reappear changed. The film doesn’t attempt to smooth over any of this; instead, it embraces the randomness as a defining trait. There's no arc to follow, no singular point of view—just a messy mosaic of lives colliding in real time.

That guerrilla filmmaking energy feels curated and intentional. The film’s visual style mirrors its narrative: jittery, loud, and laced with unpredictability. Each character is a walking contradiction, speaking in quips, spilling drinks, falling into bed, and stumbling out again. It's the chaos of your twenties, distilled into a night you won’t fully remember, but will never forget.

Beneath the surface-level partying, though, there’s a surprisingly sharp critique of what it means to grow older in a city rapidly losing its soul. Montreal’s rent spikes and disappearing creative spaces form a quiet backdrop to the emotional unraveling. These characters aren’t simply directionless—they’re relics of a subculture being pushed out of existence. The club isn’t just a place to dance; it’s a last refuge for people who don’t know what comes next.

If there’s a critique to be had, it’s that the film sometimes leans a bit too hard into its indifference. Certain moments feel more like self-aware metaness than grounded character development, and viewers unfamiliar with Montreal’s culture may find themselves on the outside of the in-jokes. These are minor quibbles in a film that proudly wears its scene-kid heart on its thrift-store sleeve.

The film’s most successful moments come when it abandons the party altogether. Conversations in alleyways, unspoken glances between ex-lovers, silent car rides home—these quieter moments hit harder precisely because they’re buried under all the noise. You start to realize that what’s “messy” isn’t just the night or the people—it’s the sense that something vital has been lost, and nobody knows how to find it again.

MESSY LEGENDS ultimately feels like a final chapter in a book that many millennials never expected to close. There’s something poetic about its conclusion—not sad exactly, but reflective, maybe even a little grateful. Yes, the party is over. But what a party it was.

For fans of mumblecore, DIY aesthetics, and millennial burnout narratives, this is a sharp, self-deprecating gem. It may not change your life, but it might make you text that one friend you haven’t heard from in a while, the one you danced with at 3 a.m. under broken lights, who also never really figured out what came next.

Please visit https://linktr.ee/overlyhonestr for more reviews.

You can follow me on Letterboxd, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube. My social media accounts can also be found on most platforms by searching for 'Overly Honest Reviews'.

I’m always happy to hear from my readers; please don't hesitate to say hello or send me any questions about movies.

[photo courtesy of GOOD HOUSE DIGITAL]

DISCLAIMER:
At Overly Honest Movie Reviews, we value honesty and transparency. Occasionally, we receive complimentary items for review, including DVDs, Blu-rays, CDs, Vinyl Records, Books, and more. We assure you that these arrangements do not influence our reviews, as we are committed to providing unbiased and sincere evaluations. We aim to help you make informed entertainment choices regardless of our relationship with distributors or producers.

Amazon Affiliate Links:
Additionally, this site contains Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, we may receive a commission. This affiliate arrangement does not affect our commitment to honest reviews and helps support our site. We appreciate your trust and support in navigating these links.