Pedro Pascal Rescues Haynes’ “De Noche” After Joaquin Phoenix’s Dramatic Vanishing Act

Olivia Bennett, 2/5/2026 Todd Haynes’ “De Noche” slinks back from the brink—Joaquin out, Pedro Pascal in—serving 1930s noir, queer romance, and a dash of scandal. Hollywood loves a comeback, darling, and this one promises velvet shadows, simmering chemistry, and the kind of resurrection only celluloid dreams can conjure.

“De Noche" didn’t just flirt with disaster; it full-on tangoed with it when Joaquin Phoenix, ever the enigmatic talent magnet and mood ring incarnate, took a dramatic exit mere days before filming in Guadalajara. Anyone remotely plugged into the trades will recall whispers of chaos: contracts paused mid-sentence, catering trucks idling with nowhere to deliver their pyramids of pastry. Phoenix, with a script in one hand and an existential sigh in the other, simply slipped out of the frame, murmuring something about "cold feet." Those three syllables sent tremors through Zoom calls and set emails alike. One wonders if "cold feet" will ever shake off its association with this mini-Hollywood exile.

But then, as so often in this town, catastrophe found its muse. Enter Pedro Pascal—swaggering back from blockbuster universes and streaming sensations, sleeves rolled and ready for the rescue. There’s a certain poetic justice in Pascal’s presence; an actor who, fresh from both "The Last of Us" and the impending Marvel tempest ("Avengers: Doomsday," for anyone counting capes and credits), is now poised to breathe feverish, noir-ish life into Haynes’ shadow-cloaked vision. Variety all but sounded a victory gong when news of Pascal’s casting broke; Pascal, rumored to have accepted the part with a twinkle and a quicksilver grin, gave buyers and cinephiles alike a reason to reschedule their next existential crisis. Production restarts next month, if the famously fickle gods of scheduling allow.

But what exactly is "De Noche" promising, beneath all this meta-drama? At its heart, Haynes and co-writer Jon Raymond seem intent on crafting a love story dressed in smoke and subterfuge—vintage noir for a world that’s never been hungrier for both nostalgia and sharp new edges. Set against the simmering corruption and art deco excesses of 1930s Los Angeles (that perennial playground for the wounded American dream), Pascal’s detective finds himself entwined with Danny Ramirez’s boarding school teacher, their paths crossing as the city eats its own tail. When the going gets grim, the duo flees south, hounded as much by their own desires as by the dark machinery chasing them. Think "Chinatown" after three negronis and a whispered confession, or perhaps Haynes’s "Carol" with different velvet gloves.

Haynes, whose films linger long after the final frame—"Carol,” “May December,” and the rest—has never shied from wrapping politics in silk and inviting viewers to probe the seams. "De Noche" channels that same energy, promising subversive politics ennobled by longing glances and rain-soaked boulevards. Fionnuala Jamison of MK2 Films put it with her usual candor: few filmmakers grip the cultural nerve so tightly, and with "De Noche" supported by Killer Films and this cast, Hollywood’s risk-averse inertia is getting a rare jolt.

It’s hard not to notice the pedigree underpinning this revival. Christine Vachon and Pamela Koffler—practically royalty in the indie film world—are on hand to keep the project anchored, with international backers like MK2 (champions of everything from Kleber Mendonça Filho to Joachim Trier) ensuring this story gets more than a half-hearted festival run. It almost feels like the stars—well, at least the ones not canceling at the last minute—have aligned for something genuinely daring.

Pascal and Ramirez, of course, might be more familiar these days as Marvel’s next generation—though here, there’s an invitation to shed the CGI and gleaming armor for something leaner, something less adorned. Hollywood loves a comeback, but it loves forbidden chemistry even more: two actors who can radiate tension without a pixel in sight. Word is, the pairing delivers a kind of slow-burn sizzle—less fireworks, more the kind of heat that lingers in silk sheets and cigarette smoke.

All that said, there’s no shortage of risk. 2025 is, after all, an age obsessed with content churn and risk-minimizing algorithms; anyone prioritizing nuance and grown-up romance over spectacle is gambling against the odds. Yet something about "De Noche’s" journey—its stumbles, its sudden reversals—feels stubbornly, gloriously alive. So perhaps, come to think of it, that’s the point. What is cinema if not the art of improbable survival? One wonders if, a decade from now, Hollywood cocktail parties will toast "De Noche" as an emblem of persistence rather than near-miss.

For now, as film stock unspools and trench coats are given a last-minute press, there is a sense that Haynes and his cast are about to deliver more than a comeback narrative. Call it a love letter to the genre, or a dare to every studio still playing it safe. Either way, "De Noche" doesn’t just return from the brink—it pirouettes back into the spotlight, a little frayed, utterly unapologetic, and ready for its close-up.

Cinema has always had a flair for second chances and unfinished business. If there’s any proof that Hollywood runs on hope and audacity, look no farther than Todd Haynes’ "De Noche"—a production that seemed, for a perilously long moment, destined to join the ever-expanding graveyard of almost-movies. Picture it: scripts gathering dust, egos smarting from yet another tumble into the development abyss—yet here we are in 2025 with cameras about to roll and an air of revived glamour humming in the wings.“De Noche" didn’t just flirt with disaster; it full-on tangoed with it when Joaquin Phoenix, ever the enigmatic talent magnet and mood ring incarnate, took a dramatic exit mere days before filming in Guadalajara. Anyone remotely plugged into the trades will recall whispers of chaos: contracts paused mid-sentence, catering trucks idling with nowhere to deliver their pyramids of pastry. Phoenix, with a script in one hand and an existential sigh in the other, simply slipped out of the frame, murmuring something about "cold feet." Those three syllables sent tremors through Zoom calls and set emails alike. One wonders if "cold feet" will ever shake off its association with this mini-Hollywood exile.But then, as so often in this town, catastrophe found its muse. Enter Pedro Pascal—swaggering back from blockbuster universes and streaming sensations, sleeves rolled and ready for the rescue. There’s a certain poetic justice in Pascal’s presence; an actor who, fresh from both "The Last of Us" and the impending Marvel tempest ("Avengers: Doomsday," for anyone counting capes and credits), is now poised to breathe feverish, noir-ish life into Haynes’ shadow-cloaked vision. Variety all but sounded a victory gong when news of Pascal’s casting broke; Pascal, rumored to have accepted the part with a twinkle and a quicksilver grin, gave buyers and cinephiles alike a reason to reschedule their next existential crisis. Production restarts next month, if the famously fickle gods of scheduling allow.But what exactly is "De Noche" promising, beneath all this meta-drama? At its heart, Haynes and co-writer Jon Raymond seem intent on crafting a love story dressed in smoke and subterfuge—vintage noir for a world that’s never been hungrier for both nostalgia and sharp new edges. Set against the simmering corruption and art deco excesses of 1930s Los Angeles (that perennial playground for the wounded American dream), Pascal’s detective finds himself entwined with Danny Ramirez’s boarding school teacher, their paths crossing as the city eats its own tail. When the going gets grim, the duo flees south, hounded as much by their own desires as by the dark machinery chasing them. Think "Chinatown" after three negronis and a whispered confession, or perhaps Haynes’s "Carol" with different velvet gloves.Haynes, whose films linger long after the final frame—"Carol,” “May December,” and the rest—has never shied from wrapping politics in silk and inviting viewers to probe the seams. "De Noche" channels that same energy, promising subversive politics ennobled by longing glances and rain-soaked boulevards. Fionnuala Jamison of MK2 Films put it with her usual candor: few filmmakers grip the cultural nerve so tightly, and with "De Noche" supported by Killer Films and this cast, Hollywood’s risk-averse inertia is getting a rare jolt.It’s hard not to notice the pedigree underpinning this revival. Christine Vachon and Pamela Koffler—practically royalty in the indie film world—are on hand to keep the project anchored, with international backers like MK2 (champions of everything from Kleber Mendonça Filho to Joachim Trier) ensuring this story gets more than a half-hearted festival run. It almost feels like the stars—well, at least the ones not canceling at the last minute—have aligned for something genuinely daring.Pascal and Ramirez, of course, might be more familiar these days as Marvel’s next generation—though here, there’s an invitation to shed the CGI and gleaming armor for something leaner, something less adorned. Hollywood loves a comeback, but it loves forbidden chemistry even more: two actors who can radiate tension without a pixel in sight. Word is, the pairing delivers a kind of slow-burn sizzle—less fireworks, more the kind of heat that lingers in silk sheets and cigarette smoke.All that said, there’s no shortage of risk. 2025 is, after all, an age obsessed with content churn and risk-minimizing algorithms; anyone prioritizing nuance and grown-up romance over spectacle is gambling against the odds. Yet something about "De Noche’s" journey—its stumbles, its sudden reversals—feels stubbornly, gloriously alive. So perhaps, come to think of it, that’s the point. What is cinema if not the art of improbable survival? One wonders if, a decade from now, Hollywood cocktail parties will toast "De Noche" as an emblem of persistence rather than near-miss.For now, as film stock unspools and trench coats are given a last-minute press, there is a sense that Haynes and his cast are about to deliver more than a comeback narrative. Call it a love letter to the genre, or a dare to every studio still playing it safe. Either way, "De Noche" doesn’t just return from the brink—it pirouettes back into the spotlight, a little frayed, utterly unapologetic, and ready for its close-up.