Good Luck, Have Fun, Don't Die (2026)

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die is the rare sci-fi action-comedy that feels like a midnight movie with a brain: loud, clever, and weirdly urgent about the way we’ve let algorithms do our living for us. Gore Verbinski directs with that old-school, anything-can-happen visual swagger, turning a grimy LA diner and one frantic night into a kinetic playground of time-bending chaos and dark laughs. Sam Rockwell is in peak form as the disheveled “man from the future,” riffing like a jazz solo while still grounding the madness, with Juno Temple and Haley Lu Richardson giving the ensemble real human friction and heart. It’s R-rated, abrasive, and intentionally messy in its satire, so if you want tidy rules and clean heroics it may not be your flavor—but if you’re craving an inventive, high-concept ride that’s as entertaining as it is uncomfortably timely, this one’s absolutely worth the gamble.

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die is clearly aiming for a caffeinated, genre-blending ride: a time-bending sci-fi action-comedy that uses a hostage-at-a-diner setup to rant (sometimes cleverly) about our surrender to algorithms and convenience. The problem is it often feels like three movies fighting for the same runtime—big ideas, chaotic set pieces, and dark jokes piled on until the pacing turns lurchy and the structure starts to feel improvised rather than inventive. If you’re allergic to heavy-handed messaging or you want your time-travel rules clean and your satire sharp, this may test your patience as it sprawls and repeats itself. Still, Sam Rockwell’s frazzled charisma and the film’s occasional bursts of Verbinski-style visual energy can make it a decent watch if you’re in the mood for messy ambition over tidy payoff.