Michael Shanks’ debut feature is a wholesomely gory deconstruction of codependency
Millie and Tim (real-life couple Alison Brie and Dave Franco) are hesitantly settling into their new rural home after uprooting their lives in the city for Millie’s new teaching post. On the outside, Tim and Millie are doing their best to support one another–Millie’s job is fulfilling, while Tim has the chance to revive his once-successful music career by joining his friend’s band on tour. But their relationship exists in an uneasy limbo. Tim’s stuck in arrested development, homebound after never learning to drive and still wracked with grief over the death of his parents; Millie wants to be there for Tim, but his faded intimacy, reluctance to get engaged, and indifference towards her attempts to help him get back on his feet has Millie doubting whether their relationship has any future at all.
The naturalism of Brie and Franco’s performances, seemingly augmented by their off-screen real-life relationship, makes Michael Shanks’ debut an already compelling relationship drama. Viewers effortlessly bounce between the emotional extremes of this couple, identifying with Tim’s idealistic yet self-imposed immaturity as much as Millie’s very valid frustration at their romantic stasis. This isn’t the first time Brie and Franco have worked together, pairing with amazing comedic timing in The Little Hours and into further thriller territory in Franco’s directorial debut The Rental. Yet whether together or apart, this is the first time either actor has turned in such potentially polarizing vulnerability. Brie and Franco engage in equal-opportunity nudity, trading scarring verbal jabs, and swapping positions of control or authority at the expense of making either partner look, well, petty or pathetic. The open embrace of their characters’ shortcomings as much as their strengths makes the complicated relationship dynamics at the heart of Together ring true, making for a film about the constant tension between one’s identity both as an individual and as a couple, the willing or imposed sacrifices we make for each other, and the resentments that can fester as a result.
It isn’t long, though, before a dangerous encounter for our couple while hiking nearby reveals the gruesome reasons why Together played in one of SXSW’s late-night slots–and elevates Shanks’ film into territory that’s paradoxically repulsive yet completely wholesome. The already-uneasy co-dependency between Tim and Millie ratchets up the sickening ick factor, which Shanks pairs wonderfully with an expert toying with the audiences’ expectations. Obsessions about their relationship take on an addictive factor, turning Tim into a creepy stalker figure and Millie into a desire-driven mania. The couple’s hesitance to commit plays into sequences that involve them to, for lack of a better phrase, rip off an all-but-metaphorical bandaid–which results in impressive physical performances from Brie and Franco that had our midnight audience laughing, gasping, and screaming when we least expected it.
The influence of other modern horror films from auteurs like Jordan Peele, Ari Aster, and Julia Ducournau looms large over how the couple’s relationship between themselves, their neighbors, and nature itself. However, Shanks refreshingly tempers such gloom and suspense with an extremely welcome sense of humor. In the film’s tensest sequences, we know what the characters need to do, we feel the gag in the back of our throats–but Brie and Franco find such human ways to delay getting to the point, transforming these normally repulsive moments into much-needed laughter beats. Climaxes of scenes pull double-duty as the payoffs to extended comic bits as well as shocking jump scares, imbuing the film’s body horror and cosmic dread with a seemingly incompatible but wholly successful levity. Occasional appearances by the jovial yet menacing Damon Herriman (Charles Manson in both Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and Mindhunter) provide a necessary objective look at Tim and Millie’s horrifying absurdity, before injecting his own hilarious bit of horror shenanigans.
What I enjoyed so much about Together, though, was the surprising amount of sincerity that Shanks keeps up across the film’s runtime, no matter how dire or dreadful Tim and Millie’s relationship may get. There’s still some spark that pulls them together as much as being apart may be key to their literal survival. It’s the North Star for Together that allows both the film’s creatives and future audiences to navigate the film’s tonal shifts, recognizing how much horror and joy coexist in any relationship even without the intrusion of overtly genre elements.
Make no mistake, Together is as much a sweet and hilarious romantic comedy as it is a truly disgusting horror film, and it’s the symbiotic relationship between Shanks, Franco, and Brie that makes the film’s disparate tones fuse so well.
Together had its Texas Premiere in SXSW 2025’s Festival Favorites section, and will hit theaters on August 1, 2025 courtesy of NEON.
