From Jesse Armstrong, the celebrated creator of Succession, comes Mountainhead, a film that swaps media dynasties for tech oligarchs but retains the same razor-sharp wit and soul-sickening diagnosis of the ultra-powerful.
Staged like a claustrophobic stage play against a backdrop of global collapse, this HBO film is a darkly comedic horror story about the men who fancy themselves gods, only to reveal they are nothing more than petulant, terrified boys playing with world-ending toys.

A Detailed Recap, Analysis, and Review
Mountainhead gathers four billionaire friends, self-dubbed the “Brewsters,” for a weekend retreat at “Mountainhead,” the absurdly lavish and remote mountain home of Hugo “Souper” Van Yalk (Jason Schwartzman). The timing is… inconvenient. The world is convulsing in chaos, fueled by a tsunami of AI-generated disinformation and deepfakes propagated by a new feature on Traam, the world-dominant social media platform owned by Venis “Ven” Parish (Cory Michael Smith), the richest man on Earth.

Each man arrives with a hidden agenda. Ven, facing global condemnation, wants to acquire Bilter, a sophisticated fact-checking AI company owned by fellow Brewster Jeff Abredazi (Ramy Youssef), to clean up his mess without admitting fault.
Jeff, whose net worth is skyrocketing as the “cure” to the “info-cancer,” has no desire to sell. Randall Garrett (Steve Carell), the group’s aging mentor and a venture capitalist, is facing a terminal cancer diagnosis and desperately clings to the hope that Ven’s unchecked technological acceleration can lead to a transhumanist cure, a digital afterlife. And Souper, the “poorest” of the group with a net worth of only $521 million, is desperate to get the others to invest in his vapid lifestyle app, Slowzo.

The pretense of friendship quickly evaporates. Arguments over Traam’s catastrophic impact erupt, and the group pressures Jeff to sell Bilter for the “greater good”, their own. After a bizarre ritual on a mountaintop where they write their net worth on their chests in lipstick, they return to find the global situation has worsened; governments are faltering.
Ven, Randall, and Souper decide to lean in, planning to use their influence to accelerate the chaos and usher in a new world order, a technocratic dictatorship run by them. When Jeff secretly approaches Randall to try and wrest control of Traam from Ven, Randall betrays him. Believing Jeff is threatening his only chance at immortality, Randall reveals the plan to Ven and Souper. The three then make a chilling, almost farcical decision: they must kill Jeff and seize control of Bilter.

Character Analysis
Venis “Ven” Parish (Cory Michael Smith): A chilling parody of Elon Musk, Ven is the “dynamo.” He possesses a dangerous combination of a god complex and juvenile petulance, viewing the collapse he engineered as an exciting opportunity. He is fundamentally disconnected from humanity, questioning if anyone outside his circle is even “real.”
Randall Garrett (Steve Carell): The group’s “Papa Bear” and a clear stand-in for figures like Peter Thiel. Randall is an ideologue whose obsession with transhumanism and life extension makes him the most dangerous of all. His fear of death strips him of all morality, justifying betrayal and murder as necessary steps toward his own salvation.
Jeff Abredazi (Ramy Youssef): Initially the film’s moral center, Jeff understands the damage being done. However, his principles are a luxury. When his life is on the line, he proves to be just as cunning and ruthless as the rest, ultimately choosing to join the game rather than become its victim. His final deal with Ven is not just survival; it’s a moral collapse and an embrace of power.
Hugo “Souper” Van Yalk (Jason Schwartzman): The pathetic hanger-on. Desperate for the approval of his wealthier friends, Souper is a sycophant whose complicity makes him just as culpable. He is the court jester in a court of monsters, and his eventual success is the film’s sickest joke.
Ending Explained

What follows is a series of bungled, darkly hilarious murder attempts. The trio’s incompetence forces Jeff into a frantic chase through the glass-and-steel mansion. He finally hides in the sauna, only to be found and barricaded inside. As his “friends” prepare to douse the room in gasoline and burn him alive, Jeff, in a moment of desperate genius, scribbles a deal on a piece of paper. He agrees to sign over Bilter to Traam in a complex acquisition that also enriches Souper. The immediate threat of immolation is enough to make them agree.
The next morning, an eerie calm settles. The deal is seemingly done, and the murder plot is brushed aside with unnerving nonchalance. But the story has one final, vicious twist. As Jeff prepares to leave, Ven approaches him privately. He proposes they do the deal for real, but with one condition: they cut Randall out completely.
Without hesitation, Jeff agrees. The man who was nearly murdered hours earlier now forms an alliance with his primary tormentor. The film ends with Jeff and Ven sharing a sinister, knowing embrace, sealing a pact that consolidates their power and dooms the world to their whims.
From his departing car, Randall watches this betrayal, the hope of his technological salvation dying in his eyes. In a final, ironic shot, Souper, now officially a billionaire thanks to the chaos boosting downloads of his meditation app, is seen doomscrolling through videos of global carnage on his phone before calmly switching to a Slowzo meditation session.
Themes and Real-Life Connections
The film is a fictionalized look at the private conversations of men like Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, Mark Zuckerberg, and Sam Bankman-Fried. It satirizes their “disruptor” ethos, accelerationist philosophies, and the belief that immense wealth grants them the right to gamble with the fate of civilization.
The plot is a direct commentary on the real-world crisis of social media-fueled disinformation. Ven’s Traam is a clear analogue for X (formerly Twitter), and the chaos it unleashes is a horrifyingly plausible extension of current events.
Armstrong’s sharpest critique is how unremarkable and petty these men are. Their world-altering decisions are driven by ego, jealousy, and childish rivalries. The plot to kill Jeff isn’t a grand conspiracy; it’s a clumsy, panicked reaction born of entitlement.
Review
Mountainhead’s reception has been notably divisive, highlighting a stark split between critics and general audiences.
- Rotten Tomatoes: Critics have largely praised the film, awarding it a “Certified Fresh” score of 79%. They’ve lauded Armstrong’s biting script, the stellar performances, and its timely, savage satire. The Associated Press called it a fun look at how “behavior spills into geopolitical events.”
- Audience Score & IMDb: In stark contrast, the audience score on Rotten Tomatoes is a dismal 26%, and its IMDb rating hovers around a low 5.4/10. This chasm suggests that while critics appreciated the sharp, intellectual satire, audiences found the characters unlikable, the dense, jargon-filled dialogue alienating, and the bleak, cynical tone off-putting. Unlike Succession, which grounded its satire in a compelling family drama, Mountainhead offers no such comfort, presenting its monstrous characters without a shred of redeemability.
Ultimately, Mountainhead is not an easy watch, nor is it meant to be. It’s a scathing, uncomfortable, and vital piece of filmmaking that holds a mirror up to the terrifying reality of our times. It confirms our worst fears about the people shaping our future: they’re not evil geniuses, just profoundly empty men who would burn the world down to feel a little bit taller.