By Jason Osiason

Maddie’s Secret might be the strangest tonal tightrope I have seen all year. I have been a big fan of John Early for a long time and his directorial debut is overdue. The comedy, the anxious charm, the way he performs self-awareness like it is both armor and vulnerability, has always fascinated me. But I did not expect this. Never in my life did I think I would be watching a movie about cooking shows and bulimia, and somehow it makes complete sense that he is the one who made it. It is funny, unsettling, and deeply sad, like a confession disguised as a meltdown.

Early plays Maddie Ralph, a woman who becomes the face of an online food channel after one of her videos blows up. I loved the early scenes. They nail the manic rhythm of the internet perfectly. The pastel kitchens, the fake laughter, the relentless “you’re killing it” energy from people who do not care about her at all. Maddie’s husband Jake, played by Eric Rahill, films everything and floats around with oblivious warmth. Her best friend Deena, played by Kate Berlant, is sharper, loyal, and worried in that way where love and frustration start to blend. As Maddie’s popularity rises, her control collapses. The world she built for attention starts to eat her alive.

I laughed so much during the first half. There is this bright, chaotic energy that feels alive in a way few movies do. Then it shifts. The humor starts to rot from the inside. I felt genuinely sick watching Maddie’s relapse unfold. The title hits differently once you realize the secret is not some plot twist but the way people can perform health and happiness while quietly destroying themselves off-camera.

The second half loses some of the electricity. Once Maddie goes to treatment, the story slows down and becomes more traditional. The scenes with her mother Beverlee, played by Kristen Johnston, go for big catharsis but feel neat compared to the mess that came before. I wanted Early to stay in that uncomfortable, hysterical, brilliant middle ground between satire and sincerity.

Even with its flaws, there is something about this movie that stuck with me. Early’s direction feels personal. You can sense him wrestling with the idea of performance itself, asking what happens when your art, your body, and your identity all collapse into the same spectacle. I found that question beautiful and painful.

Maddie’s Secret is not perfect. It stumbles, circles itself, and never fully figures out what it wants to be. But I cannot stop thinking about it. It is bold, intimate, and feels like someone trying to tell the truth through a smile that keeps slipping. [B]