There’s something quietly electric about anticipating a film you haven’t seen yet—that moment before the curtain rises when possibility still feels infinite. “Tell Everyone” is set to release on January 28, 2026, and even in these pre-release days, there’s a palpable sense that Finnish director Alli Haapasalo is bringing something genuinely significant to the screen. This isn’t just another drama landing in the early weeks of the year; it’s a project that feels like it’s been carefully considered, thoughtfully assembled, and positioned to spark real conversations.
What makes Tell Everyone such an intriguing prospect starts with its creative leadership. Alli Haapasalo has established herself as a filmmaker with an eye for intimate human stories—the kind of director who understands that the smallest moments often contain the most profound truths. Paired with a cast featuring Marketta Tikkanen, Jakob Öhrman, and Alma Pöysti, you’re looking at a collaboration between a visionary director and actors known for their depth and commitment to complex characters. These aren’t names chosen casually; they’re chosen because they understand the weight of what they’re being asked to carry.
The ensemble itself tells us something important about what Haapasalo is attempting here:
- Marketta Tikkanen brings a generational presence—an actor capable of conveying entire emotional landscapes through nuance
- Alma Pöysti has proven her range in projects that demand vulnerability and authenticity
- Jakob Öhrman rounds out the cast with the kind of dramatic credibility that suggests complex male characterization
This isn’t a film built on star power alone; it’s built on craft, on the chemistry between actors who take their work seriously.
The real measure of a film’s importance isn’t the hype surrounding it, but what it reveals about our shared human experience once you’re sitting in the dark.
The title itself—”Tell Everyone”—carries weight. There’s an immediacy to it, a sense of urgency and exposure. It suggests something that can’t remain hidden, something that demands to be known. In an era where storytelling often retreats into nostalgia or spectacle, a drama willing to name itself so directly, so imperatively, feels genuinely refreshing. You can already sense that this film is interested in consequence, in the ripple effects of secrets and confessions, in what happens when silence is finally broken.
What’s particularly interesting about Tell Everyone arriving now is the timing. The 2026 awards landscape has already begun taking shape—other projects are generating their own momentum and accolades—but there’s room here for a film that operates at a different frequency. Not every story needs to be the loudest in the room. Sometimes the films that matter most are the ones that make us lean in closer, listen harder, and recognize ourselves in the struggles playing out on screen.
The production itself, handled by Helsinki-filmi, speaks to the film’s Scandinavian sensibility. There’s a particular tradition in Nordic cinema—a commitment to psychological realism, to letting silences speak as loudly as dialogue, to trusting audiences to sit with discomfort and complexity. At 1 hour 52 minutes, the runtime suggests a filmmaker confident in her pacing, unwilling to pad her narrative but equally unwilling to rush it. This is a film that knows exactly how long it needs to be.
From a filmmaking perspective, here’s what makes this collaboration potentially significant:
- A director at full creative confidence, not subordinating her vision to market demands
- A cast selected for depth rather than commercial appeal, indicating a project that prioritizes character authenticity
- A production company with proven track record in bringing challenging Nordic stories to international audiences
- A narrative framework that the title alone hints is both urgent and deeply human
What conversations might Tell Everyone spark once it reaches audiences? Consider the implications of that title—in a world increasingly shaped by social media, by the pressure to share everything or hide everything, a drama exploring what happens when someone decides to tell everyone about something carries real contemporary resonance. It could be about betrayal, about liberation, about the cost of transparency or the burden of secrets. The specifics will emerge on January 28th, but the premise alone suggests a filmmaker interested in the moral and emotional consequences of truth-telling.
The fact that this film carries a 0.0/10 rating at this pre-release moment isn’t a criticism—it’s simply a reflection that we’re still waiting. No one has seen it yet. The canvas is blank. And there’s something valuable in that anticipation, in approaching a work without predetermined judgments, ready to let it surprise us.
Alli Haapasalo represents a particular kind of contemporary director—one working in the tradition of European art cinema while refusing to be confined by it. She’s interested in form, yes, but never at the expense of genuine human feeling. Her collaborators here seem equally committed to this balance. Tell Everyone arrives as a reminder that cinema still has the power to ask difficult questions, to illuminate interior lives, and to suggest that what we’ve been afraid to say might be precisely what needs saying.
When this film releases in January 2026, audiences will discover what Haapasalo and her cast have crafted. Until then, the anticipation itself is part of the story—the sense that something meaningful is approaching, something worth paying attention to, something likely to linger long after the credits roll.
