REVIEW: The Next Fashion Flick is Now on Sale: ‘I Love Boosters’ Is an Imperfect Beauty

By Maurice Burbridge | May 4, 2026

Naomi Ackie, Keke Palmer, Poppy Liu and Taylour Paige in Boots Riley’s “I Love Boosters.” Photo Credit: Courtesy of NEON

It's impossible for fashion — or any art — to connect us, as long as the actual artists, beyond just the front-facing designers, go under-paid, under-seen and under-valued.

Though the stylish form and star-studded cast may lead those new to Boots Riley to assume otherwise, “I Love Boosters” (in theaters May 22) is decisively political. Not only aware of the many woes in our world, but offering routes for solutions, or at least, solace. 

You can tell how socially conscious Riley is, as he doesn't necessarily put the onus for our terrible world on one individual/organization. He knows that everyone is getting taken advantage of, taking advantage of someone else or in the case of most people: a bit of both.

With that said, the narrative goes places that are so bizarrely abstract it's at times to completely absorb yourself in the film's world, despite a clearly coherent vision in the production and costume design. This makes for a fun, but not entirely engaging, watch.

Keke Palmer leads as Corvette, a starving artist with dreams of fame and days of boosting. As part of The Velvet Gang with Sade (Naomi Ackie, who's particularly great in this wonderful ensemble) and Mariah (Taylour Paige), she steals from luxury stores, selling their clothes for relatively cheap to the common folk.

It's clear why their boosting of Metro Designer's fashions upsets designer Christie Smith (Demi Moore) so much; not merely because they stole Smith’s work, but because the faux-luxury aesthetic brands work so hard to cultivate begins to crumble when anyone of a certain class/race is able to afford them for reasonable prices. The exclusivity and gimmicks are the product, not the art. 

Perhaps no other scene resembles the balancing act of “I Love Boosters” between criticism of the fashion industry and good ole humor than when Mariah inexplicably changes herself to a lighter-skinned woman to enter a luxury fashion store. To be fair, they are actually stealing, but every person of a certain complexion knows that judgments are made about you as soon as you enter these spaces, so why not do them? What do they have to lose?

The politics of the film journey further outside of the inequality ingrained in the high-fashion world with the introduction of Jianpu (Poppy Liu), one of the factory workers who make the expensive and renowned Metro Designer fashions, but of course, see none of the profits. 

Western artists often let slip their narrow perspectives in their commentary, but not Riley. His film is all the better for acknowledging not only the racially-tinged exclusion and thievery (of ideas) common to the fashion industry for us stateside, but how foreign factory workers could work for years and not begin to afford a single garment they made. 

And that's if they live that long. As shown in the film, these factories are known to have terrible working conditions; the sort that Americans often take for granted since they've long been outlawed/regulated here. 

With this expansion of scope, Riley confronts the oft-repeated notion that art is inherently universal. A beautiful statement, that erases the actually-universal essence of humanity behind art, many of whom — especially in fashion — often go uncredited. The Velvet Gang connects with Jianpu and co-worker Victoria (Eiza González) not because of their mutual interest in fashion, but because of a common hunger for reform. 

For many people, it's easy to push for change when said change would directly benefit you, like firing your rude boss, but it takes a certain level of awareness to understand the importance of change elsewhere, thousands and thousands of miles away, that may not directly benefit you, but can be equally as beautiful. 

Why then, is Jianpu's introduction also when the film begins to lose itself? Because with her comes increasingly hilarious-yet-confusing twists and turns that really make it hard to just connect with the characters on a deeper level. Take for instance, Jianpu's device that attracts The Velvet Gang to her: the logic for it is simultaneously carefully explained, but also ultimately deemed irrelevant. 

Additionally, the film has a lot of sequences where the characters will tell a story/memory, and it will play out on screen for a brief reprieve from the main narrative; often all ending quickly with a smart gag. But Jianpu's backstory goes on for (relatively) so long that one gets reminded of another oft-repeated beautiful statement, “Show, but don't tell.” I found myself rooting for her character because of Liu's charisma, not necessarily because she was fleshed out much beyond her introductory lore dump. 

The big third-act conflict resides not between these boosters and fashion maven Christie Smith, but follows two Velvet Gang members whose conflicting ideals — one fueled by financial need, the other by revenge, come to a head. When the emotional weight of this moment hinges on an understanding of their complex dynamic, it's unfortunate that the few foreshadowing scenes preceding this are much less memorable than the weird places the narrative diverges to.

You should experience these shocks for yourself, but after the novelty wears off, you'll find that much of these shocks are akin to a typical horror jump-scare. Great in isolation, and maybe somewhat meaningful, but fail to fit naturally with the rest of it's-parts, detracting from the connectedness one feels with the art as a whole. 

For a film about fashion, I'd also be remiss to not mention that some of my favorite styles were relegated to quick montages. I can imagine logical reasons for this; maybe they were fragile/rented and the filmmakers had to carefully avoid harming them, but it did nonetheless strike me as a slight disappointment. 

Ultimately, “I Love Boosters” is a declaration of love, artists, and how we continue to fail the true artists of our world. LaKeith Stanfield does amazing as a just-out-of-reach sympathetic yet suave love interest that almost resembles his character in last year's “Die My Love,” and Taylour Paige similarly plays to her own known comedic strengths. Eiza González and Demi Moore are given the risky task of characters that feel completely new for them, yet they do amazing work.

If anyone thought that Moore's performance in “The Substance,” and ensuing awards run, was a fluke, she's now not only proven that she's a true chameleon with or without visual effects, but that any promising actor can be one too if a smart director like Riley is willing to take a chance on them.

A huge ball of dread (or in specific, things like insurance letters and eviction notices) re-appears throughout the film, at first-confusingly, but the ending makes its significance clear. 

Many struggle with so much that they resort to tackling none of it at all, but with community, and the bravery to take even the smallest step in that right direction, that big ball starts to look a hell of a lot smaller. And maybe a bit more beautiful and glittery than you expected.

I viewed “I Love Boosters’”at its world premiere during the 2026 SXSW Film & TV Festival. The film releases theatrically on Friday, May 22. Tickets are now available for screenings across the U.S.; locally, Regal Crossgates already has showings listed.