Hard Feelings 2026
When love leaves you raw, Chloe turns to a service offering virtual closure—plastic apologies delivered by lookalikes of exes. But when her hired 'other' unexpectedly stumbles into real emotion, the script tears up, leaving everyone uncomfortably human.
Director: Rachael Sampson
Cast
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Hard Feelings (2026) about?
After a brutal breakup, Chloe hires doppelgängers to deliver hollow apologies for her ex, but the stand-in's real emotions derail the performance, forcing her to confront what closure really costs. It's a biting satire of performative healing wrapped in sharp wit and unexpected heart.
Who directed Hard Feelings?
Rachael Sampson helms the project, bringing her keen eye for character-driven comedy and dramatic tension to this micro-budget exploration of modern relationships.
Who stars in Hard Feelings?
Bridget Morrison headlines alongside Tyrie Aspinall, Lae-Ella Sinniah, and Ellie Hunton in this ensemble-driven short.
Is Hard Feelings (2026) worth watching?
Though unrated, its tight script, strong performances, and fresh take on breakup tropes make it a promising watch for fans of quirky character comedies. The nine-minute runtime rewards with a punch, even if it leaves you wanting more.
How long is Hard Feelings?
Hard Feelings runs nine minutes, delivering a full story in under ten.
About Hard Feelings (2026) — A nine-minute breakup comedy that swaps apologies for awkward honesty
When love leaves you raw, Chloe turns to a service offering virtual closure—plastic apologies delivered by lookalikes of exes. But when her hired 'other' unexpectedly stumbles into real emotion, the script tears up, leaving everyone uncomfortably human. Directed by Rachael Sampson, *Hard Feelings (2026)* blends sharp comedy with tender drama, exploring the messy gap between performance and feeling in a world chasing easy fixes. Bridget Morrison stars as Chloe, flanked by Tyrie Aspinall, Lae-Ella Sinniah, and Ellie Hunton, whose layered performances ground the film's biting satire of modern breakup culture. With every awkward pause and reluctant laugh, Sampson crafts a bite-sized gem that lingers like a text unsent.
Running just nine minutes, this micro-drama packs big themes—guilt, authenticity, and the price of staged absolution—into a deceptively light package. The film's playful tone belies a sharp edge, questioning whether closure can ever be outsourced or if closure is just another performance we're all faking.