I Love Boosters (2026) Review!!

Synopsis – A group of shoplifters take aim at a cutthroat fashion maven by stealing her clothes and reselling them at a lower price, what they call “fashion-forward fhilanthropy.”

My Take – Although I was unaware of his politically charged rap group The Coup, Boots Riley announced himself as a filmmaker to look out for with Sorry to Bother You (2018), a debut that swung hard and landed with a wild, original satire on race, corporate culture, economic divides, and politics. A distinctive voice and visual flair that he also carried over into television with the limited series I’m a Virgo (2023).

So it’s little wonder that his long-awaited feature follow-up is even more unhinged. Determined to outdo himself, writer-director Riley hurls everything onto the screen, including a trans-dimensional warp gun and undercover villains in human flesh suits, all to craft a surreal, poignant heist comedy that skewers capitalist inequality and delivers what may be one of the year’s most potent celebrations of cinema and visual art.

Sure, the screenplay occasionally frays under the weight of its own chaos. Yet at its core, the story remains a sharp critique of how big business keeps its grip on both customers and employees. And despite the madness, the film is a joy: the gags land, the tonal whiplash thrills, the performances are committed, and even the explanatory detours resonate.

Simply told, if you admired the boldness of Riley’s debut, you’ll forgive this film’s detours. Because, sometimes the best way to experience cinema is to surrender to a filmmaker’s logic and let their imagination run riot in your mind.

Set against the backdrop of the San Francisco Bay Area, the story follows Corvette (Keke Palmer), an aspiring fashion designer whose relentless efforts have yielded little recognition. Reduced to squatting in an abandoned fried chicken joint, she bands together with her closest friends, Sade (Naomi Ackie) and Mariah (Taylour Paige). Known collectively as the “Velvet Gang,” the trio survives by stealing couture and reselling it at a fraction of the corporate markup.

Though some of their earnings are funneled back to the less fortunate, Corvette’s true obsession lies in striking at Metro Designers and its ruthless CEO, Christie Smith (Demi Moore). Once an admirer, Corvette turns adversary when she discovers Christie has been pilfering her designs and publicly dismisses the Velvet Gang as “low-class urban bitches.”

This is a film that raises the bar for what cinema can achieve in an era of shrinking attention spans. Saturated with color, director Riley’s vision deploys everything from Claymation to miniature replicas to construct an intricate, off-kilter fantasy world. Even Christie’s office tilts at a ludicrous angle, designed so only she can walk across it with ease. The sheer density of invention forces the viewer to constantly re-calibrate, as Corvette’s boosting schemes spiral into teleportation weapons, skinless villains, and more.

Strange as it sounds, the film still finds room for LaKeith Stanfield as Corvette’s potential love interest—a fashion model who may or may not be a soul-sucking demon. The targets of director Riley’s satire are unmistakable. Corporate exploitation is embodied in Grayson (Will Poulter), a Metro retail manager who deducts uniform costs from his employees’ paychecks and allows them only thirty seconds for lunch. Absurd, yes—but disturbingly believable.

Likewise, the Chinese manager investigating a stolen device in the factory evokes the maddening evasions of real-world bureaucracies, where authority refuses to name the problem outright. The critique of capitalism is slathered on thick, impossible to miss. Some viewers will see only a takedown of fast fashion imports; others will recognize a broader indictment of the fashion industry itself.

Here, director Riley avoids hierarchies of interpretation, instead urging us to focus on labor rights and collective class spirit. What makes the film exhilarating is its self-awareness. Riley builds on his earlier work while forging new ground, upending expectations by dropping a hard twist in the first third rather than saving it for the second act, as he did in Sorry to Bother You (2018). He toys with narrative convention, clearly reveling in the chaos, and keeps us perpetually on our toes.

The performances drive the film’s message home, with Keke Palmer and Naomi Ackie emerging as towering standouts in a star-studded ensemble. Taylour Paige repeatedly steals scenes with effortless charisma, no small feat in a cast this deep. Poppy Liu shines as Jianhu, the unofficial fourth member of Corvette’s crew, adding both humor and heart.

Demi Moore, channeling shades of Meryl Streep, delivers a turn that is both stunning and eclectic, embodying the ruthless fashion mogul with relish. The cameos are plentiful and each leaves a mark: Eiza González with razor-sharp pencil brows, Will Poulter in a hilariously absurd role, LaKeith Stanfield‘s hypnotic demon and Don Cheadle nearly unrecognizable in his transformation. Together, they enrich Riley’s chaotic tapestry with flashes of brilliance that keep the film unpredictable and alive. On the whole, ‘I Love Boosters‘ is a delirious, unruly triumph that cements Boots Riley as one of cinema’s most imaginative voices.