Together

One to talk about afterwards with your significant other — if the subject matter hasn’t made you terrified of spending too much time alone with them.

A giddy grotesquerie that has midnight-movie crowd-pleaser written all over it.

For a directorial debut, Shanks hits it out of the park with his delightfully squirm-worthy horror comedy.

Brie and Franco know how to find their way from grim to funny. The laughs come in their deadpan underreactions and freaked-out over-reactions at their plight.

Doing double duty as both a romcom and a twisted body horror movie is a tonal challenge that "Together" pulls off successfully, in large part thanks to how fun it is.

That Together treats its body horror as just another wrinkle in the complexities of what it means to love someone else is writer-director Michael Shanks’s smartest move.

Together is less a fully conceived horror movie than a plodding relationship drama with some impressively disgusting effects superimposed on it. The two elements, alas, don’t quite complete each other.

A body horror film that offers a fresh take on unified field theory and the romantic phrase “till death do us part.” It successfully delivers on its mission to scare viewers without resorting to cheap tricks, instead turning their stomachs.

(Mauro Lanari) A calligraphic transposition of the primordial androgynous myth described by Aristophanes in Plato's "Symposium", the Hebrew-Christian Bible provides a conjugal version of it: "a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh" (Gen 2:24 || Mk 10:7-8 || Mt 19:5 || Eph 5:31). In his feature-length debut, Shanks also cites the Spice Girls' "2 Become 1" (1996). Split-heart pendants with a zigzag cut for a sharp interlocking indicate the quest for one's soulmate; an equivalent emoji doesn't yet exist. I leave the judgment of the film's quality to you, I'm more interested in recalling that the dyad "dia-ballein" (δια-βάλλειν)/"sym-ballein" (συμ-βάλλειν) has acquired in psychotherapy an antithetical meaning summarized by the Gospel's "You shall love your neighbor as yourself" (Mk 12:31 ∥ Mt 22:39 ∥ Lk 10:27): even before seeking union with a partner, one should seek it within oneself by exorcising one's own inner legion (Mk 5:9 ∥ Lk 8:30). "Southland Tales" (Kelly 2006) closes with this image of self-reconciliation, but no one understood it.

O roteiro do filme exala aquele perfume que sabemos ser calhorda, e aí a direção juntamente com a direção de arte vão inserir elementos pra tornar tudo muito melhor, e somando-se ao excelente trabalho cênico dos protagonistas, consegue entregar uma obra visceral em muitas partes, boba em certas outras. É divertido, ao menos.

[SPOILER ALERT: This review contains spoilers.]

Despite the ever-growing popularity of horror films, I can honestly say I’ve really tired of half-baked releases that just don’t cut it, and that’s very much the case with this debut feature from writer-director Michael Shanks. By “half-baked,” I’m referring to pictures that aren’t especially scary, fall into patterns of predictable plot developments, routinely incorporate vague, unexplained elements, and fail woefully in their attempts at trying to offer audiences “something more” in terms of meaningful content, themes or insights. Regrettably, this combination of underwhelming qualities often results in meandering narratives that make little sense and don’t deliver on their hoped-for entertainment and visionary promises. It’s particularly disappointing with offerings that aspire to the commendable “smart horror” moniker yet still manage to come up short, as is so here. For what it’s worth, “Together” follows the cryptic, unsettling experiences of Tim (Dave Franco) and Millie (Alison Brie), a tale in which these real-life off-screen spouses portray a long-term unmarried couple whose relationship has hit troubled waters, resulting in a gap wider between them than what most of us saw during the days of social distancing. This becomes further aggravated when the long-term city duo relocates to the country, where Millie takes a new teaching job while Tim tries to sort out his future as a wannabe rock star. They genuinely seem to love one another, but is that enough to sustain their partnership? And, when they fall prey to a series of odd paranormal experiences that simultaneously drive them emotionally further apart while bringing them physically closer together (literally) than they ever could have imagined, their lives and world are turned upside down. In telling their story, the filmmaker seeks to make a statement about the challenges and joys that can accompany long-term romances, using a horror context as the backdrop for the exploration of these notions. And, while this approach may have some laudable merits on paper, the execution of this idea nevertheless leaves much to be desired, leading viewers through a series of underdeveloped and unrelated episodes that collectively fail to gel. Sadly, whatever connections were being sought after here are often scattered, employing a variety of tropes that just don’t mesh well. The film is at times romantic, at times modestly frightening and at times comedically campy, but it never settles on a consistent path as the story plays out. What’s more, the chemistry between the two leads is never truly convincing, making one wonder why these two partners are together in the first place and how they’ve managed to stay together as long as they have. In short, this offering ironically never really hangs “together” in my estimation, a major letdown for what was supposed to be one of the most anticipated releases of the summer movie season. Unfortunately, though, this typifies what has happened with so many of today’s horror flicks, including many of the more ambitious projects that have sought to raise the bar for this genre. Indeed, there’s not much to see here, folks, so my recommendation is to simply move along.