You can usually spot vanity projects from a mile away. They drip with self-indulgence, coasting entirely on the creator's social media footprint or internet notoriety. Then comes Jordan Firstman’s feature directorial debut, Club Kid, a film that completely flips that cynical script. Instead of offering a hollow exercise in millennial irony, Firstman drops us headfirst into the neon-soaked, bass-pounding underbelly of New York City and walks out with one of the most tender, sharp-witted comedies of the year.
If you thought Firstman was just a quick-witted sketch artist or a Twitter provocateur, Club Kid forces you to reconsider. It proves that real artistic evolution happens when creators stop trying to be clever and start being brutally honest.
The Premise That Upends a Decade of Chaos
The story centers on Peter, an unapologetic, hard-partying New York City club promoter whose existence revolves around a perpetual cycle of strobe lights, chemical enhancements, and fleeting midnight hookups. Peter is coasting on fumes, comfortably numb and convinced that his twenties can stretch out indefinitely. He tells his neighbor with casual exhaustion that he feels like he lost an entire decade to the speakers.
Then reality crashes through his door. A hazy, drug-fueled night from ten years prior comes back to haunt him when an acquaintance drops off Arlo, a precocious ten-year-old British boy whose mother has just passed away. Peter is suddenly thrust into the role of a father with zero preparation, a depleted bank account, and an apartment that doubles as an after-hours crash pad.
Most filmmakers would turn this setup into a predictable, saccharine melodrama where the wild-child protagonist instantly transforms into a domestic saint. Firstman is far too smart for that. Peter doesn't clean up overnight. His apartment stays messy, his anxiety spikes, and his initial attempts at parenting look a lot like a disaster in slow motion.
Reggie Absolom Steals the Show
You cannot talk about why Club Kid works without addressing newcomer Reggie Absolom, who plays young Arlo. Child actors in indie dramedies usually fall into two traps: they are either unbearably precocious or aggressively wooden. Absolom sidesteps both pitfalls completely. He plays Arlo with a grounded, world-weary British dryness that matches Peter’s chaotic energy beat for beat.
The chemistry between Firstman and Absolom anchors the entire runtime. When they clash over mundane chores or navigate the bureaucratic nightmare of cross-border guardianship, you feel the genuine friction of two strangers forced into intimacy. Arlo isn't just a prop designed to teach Peter a lesson about growing up. He is a fully realized, grieving kid who observes the eccentric adults around him with quiet skepticism.
The supporting ensemble surrounds them with vibrant authenticity. Cara Delevingne brings a grounded, weary warmth as Sophie, Peter's business partner who has finally outgrown the nightlife treadmill. Diego Calva appears as Oscar, a child social worker who catches Peter's eye and offers a glimpse into a healthier, structured routine. While that romantic subplot occasionally stumbles under underdeveloped pacing, it still adds a necessary mirror to Peter's internal scramble.
Rejecting Respectability Politics
What makes Firstman's approach refreshing is his refusal to judge his own characters. Cinema is full of moralistic tales that punish queer hedonism, framing nightlife as a sickness that needs absolute curing. Club Kid refuses to take that puritanical shortcut.
The film acknowledges that Peter's community of trans DJs, queer philosophers, and nocturnal hustlers can be messy, chaotic, and self-destructive. Yet, it also shows how that exact same community rallies around a surprise child with fierce, unconditional love. Saffron, played with magnetic intensity by Saturn Risin9, and an array of vibrant underground staples treat Arlo not as an intrusion, but as part of the ecosystem.
Firstman is not asking us to condemn the club scene. He is asking a harder question: How do you grow up when the only culture you know tells you to stay young forever?
Adam Newport-Berra’s 35mm cinematography captures this tension brilliantly. The camera treats the New York clubs not as hellscapes, but as places of genuine community, before transitioning into harsh morning light that exposes the dust motes and real responsibilities piling up in Peter's living room. Combined with a pulsating score by Cristobal Tapia de Veer, the movie matches its protagonist's erratic heartbeat.
A Star Is Born Behind the Camera
Following its rapturous festival run from Cannes to Telluride and Chicago, Club Kid arrives in theaters with a massive wave of well-earned critical acclaim. It proves that Firstman's creative voice extends far beyond short-form comedy. He has crafted a feature debut that balances vulgar, laugh-out-loud humor with moments of devastating emotional clarity.
You walk out of the theater realizing that the transformation isn't just happening on screen. A real filmmaker has arrived, and he managed to smuggle a deeply moving father-son story inside a glitter-bombed New York rave.
Catch it in theaters while you can.
