Ben Affleck and Lina Esco Bring ‘Dorky’ Charm to Netflix’s The Rip

Olivia Bennett, 1/18/2026At the premiere of Netflix's "The Rip," stars Ben Affleck and Lina Esco showcased their charming camaraderie amidst the glitz of Hollywood. The film, directed by Joe Carnahan, blends crime thriller elements with a light-hearted vibe, emphasizing friendship and laughter in the shadowy world of Miami crime.

The scene outside Alice Tully Hall belonged in a collector’s edition coffee table book: rows of velvet rope, paparazzi battling for position, and a whirl of A-listers—Matt Damon, Kyle Chandler, Teyana Taylor, Steven Yeun. Hollywood’s power grid, basically. But what’s funny is that the most interesting plot was unfolding far from any omnipresent flash bulb, banished to quiet corners where performers—ostensibly steeled for “torrid” drama—couldn’t seem to keep a straight face.

Esco, still riding a giddy high off the premiere’s chaos, offered a refreshingly candid take. “Ben is just such a sweet man and easygoing, it’s just easy,” she admitted, as though confessing a guilty pleasure. It’s rare, she went on, to find a set absent the kind of egos that can clear a room quicker than overripe camembert at a summer party. Yet, “nothing pretentious,” she insisted—a phrase that ought to be stitched into more scripts (and, frankly, more contracts).

Miami’s neon-lit streets may sizzle onscreen, but under the directorial hand of Joe Carnahan, “The Rip” is less about brooding machismo and more about a jazzy kind of chaos. Carnahan’s known for steering narratives with a soundtrack tucked up his sleeve and a penchant for balancing tension and warmth—a bit like running a tight ship with all the windows open. Affleck and Damon (never one to let a bromantic crime drama pass them by) step into the boots of Miami’s finest, forced to dance along a blurred line between duty and temptation, thanks to one eye-wateringly large stash of cash. With all the grit required on set, apparently comfort wasn’t sacrificed at the altar of cinematic realism. Carnahan kept the vibes soft, the music playing, the mood always “cozy.” Not the sort of thing most people expect from a crime thriller—then again, that’s Hollywood for you. Always willing to contradict itself, and always just barely getting away with it.

Esco couldn’t say enough about the project’s energy—her words tumbling out in bursts of conviction. The script, she swore, left her all but breathless at first blush: “The script when I first read it was incredible. I was like, ‘Oh my God. I want to be in this movie.’” It’s a heady kind of infatuation, that first hit of narrative hook, and it powered her through what she described as a gauntlet of auditions (Hollywood “gameshow” is putting it lightly). Carnahan, apparently, proved irresistible—one call, her fate was sealed.

It’s easy to assume actors say things just because they’re supposed to—red carpets, after all, are ground zero for PR gymnastics. But Esco’s enthusiasm rang with a note of genuine surprise. “I’m not just saying that, I usually will be like [tsks], but I wholeheartedly will tell you it’s a great movie.” Not every day you hear an actor apologizing for sincerity. In a year already awash with middling sequels and recycled franchises, it’s practically its own kind of red carpet accessory.

But there’s an added twist in this particular tale—a little extra Hollywood spice. The film’s production roster reads like an Oscar-night afterparty; Affleck and Damon didn’t just headline, they produced, joined by Luciana Damon and Dani Bernfeld. This creative tag team is a tribute to the enduring currency of friendships in modern cinema, a tradition that feels more precious each year as the spectacle machine roars on. There’s something about creative trust—when shared vision meets unspoken shorthand—that no amount of new tech or hype can fake.

As “The Rip” settles into its run on Netflix, the surface crackles with betrayal, shootouts, and dollar bills flying like confetti, but much of the film’s magnetism is softer—a kind of pulse underneath the pageantry. Camaraderie, that’s the word that keeps surfacing, stretching through each scene like a secret code. Sure, there’s treachery and high-octane tension, but beneath it all, there’s that playful, persistent laughter. Maybe that’s what gives these stories their staying power.

And really, in an industry always teetering between reinvention and repetition, maybe the most subversive move left is remembering to laugh. Not just when the cameras roll, but when they accidentally catch the unfiltered, honest mess of it all.

On second thought—maybe a little dorkiness is Hollywood’s real secret ingredient this year.

Sometimes, woven between the shimmer of designer gowns and that relentless thrum of camera shutters, there’s a different kind of sparkle on display—one far more mischievous, barely contained, and decidedly human. At the 2025 New York premiere of “The Rip,” Netflix’s newest foray into the underbelly of Miami crime, that glimmer wasn’t from a beaded neckline or a polished pair of Louboutins, but from the barely-disguised giggling erupting between two of its stars: Lina Esco and Ben Affleck. Go figure—turns out, even in the shadowy corridors of a fictional narcotics unit, a streak of dorky laughter can wander in uninvited.The scene outside Alice Tully Hall belonged in a collector’s edition coffee table book: rows of velvet rope, paparazzi battling for position, and a whirl of A-listers—Matt Damon, Kyle Chandler, Teyana Taylor, Steven Yeun. Hollywood’s power grid, basically. But what’s funny is that the most interesting plot was unfolding far from any omnipresent flash bulb, banished to quiet corners where performers—ostensibly steeled for “torrid” drama—couldn’t seem to keep a straight face.Esco, still riding a giddy high off the premiere’s chaos, offered a refreshingly candid take. “Ben is just such a sweet man and easygoing, it’s just easy,” she admitted, as though confessing a guilty pleasure. It’s rare, she went on, to find a set absent the kind of egos that can clear a room quicker than overripe camembert at a summer party. Yet, “nothing pretentious,” she insisted—a phrase that ought to be stitched into more scripts (and, frankly, more contracts).Miami’s neon-lit streets may sizzle onscreen, but under the directorial hand of Joe Carnahan, “The Rip” is less about brooding machismo and more about a jazzy kind of chaos. Carnahan’s known for steering narratives with a soundtrack tucked up his sleeve and a penchant for balancing tension and warmth—a bit like running a tight ship with all the windows open. Affleck and Damon (never one to let a bromantic crime drama pass them by) step into the boots of Miami’s finest, forced to dance along a blurred line between duty and temptation, thanks to one eye-wateringly large stash of cash. With all the grit required on set, apparently comfort wasn’t sacrificed at the altar of cinematic realism. Carnahan kept the vibes soft, the music playing, the mood always “cozy.” Not the sort of thing most people expect from a crime thriller—then again, that’s Hollywood for you. Always willing to contradict itself, and always just barely getting away with it.Esco couldn’t say enough about the project’s energy—her words tumbling out in bursts of conviction. The script, she swore, left her all but breathless at first blush: “The script when I first read it was incredible. I was like, ‘Oh my God. I want to be in this movie.’” It’s a heady kind of infatuation, that first hit of narrative hook, and it powered her through what she described as a gauntlet of auditions (Hollywood “gameshow” is putting it lightly). Carnahan, apparently, proved irresistible—one call, her fate was sealed.It’s easy to assume actors say things just because they’re supposed to—red carpets, after all, are ground zero for PR gymnastics. But Esco’s enthusiasm rang with a note of genuine surprise. “I’m not just saying that, I usually will be like [tsks], but I wholeheartedly will tell you it’s a great movie.” Not every day you hear an actor apologizing for sincerity. In a year already awash with middling sequels and recycled franchises, it’s practically its own kind of red carpet accessory.But there’s an added twist in this particular tale—a little extra Hollywood spice. The film’s production roster reads like an Oscar-night afterparty; Affleck and Damon didn’t just headline, they produced, joined by Luciana Damon and Dani Bernfeld. This creative tag team is a tribute to the enduring currency of friendships in modern cinema, a tradition that feels more precious each year as the spectacle machine roars on. There’s something about creative trust—when shared vision meets unspoken shorthand—that no amount of new tech or hype can fake.As “The Rip” settles into its run on Netflix, the surface crackles with betrayal, shootouts, and dollar bills flying like confetti, but much of the film’s magnetism is softer—a kind of pulse underneath the pageantry. Camaraderie, that’s the word that keeps surfacing, stretching through each scene like a secret code. Sure, there’s treachery and high-octane tension, but beneath it all, there’s that playful, persistent laughter. Maybe that’s what gives these stories their staying power.And really, in an industry always teetering between reinvention and repetition, maybe the most subversive move left is remembering to laugh. Not just when the cameras roll, but when they accidentally catch the unfiltered, honest mess of it all.On second thought—maybe a little dorkiness is Hollywood’s real secret ingredient this year.