Together (2025): review

I had expectations for Together after its early reception at Sundance. It is a wild film, but its shocks serve something many films do not attempt to explore: closeness, too much closeness, and what happens when two people literally cannot let go of each other.

At its center are Millie and Tim, a couple who have been together for almost a decade. They move to the countryside; he wants to make music, and she works as a teacher. At first, it almost resembles a relationship comedy-drama. Then an incident in a cave and the water they drink there lead to a physical attachment neither can explain. Their bodies begin drawing together. What follows combines body horror, grotesque romance, relationship satire, and psychological chamber drama. Watching it, I thought: emotional dependence sometimes feels exactly like this.

Alison Brie and Dave Franco carry the film with an intensity that hurts. Their chemistry is tangible, and not simply because they are married in real life. They inhabit the dysfunction. The bodily merging could have been kitsch, but here it feels like the tragic consequence of a relationship in which neither person wants to be alone, yet neither can live comfortably with the other. Some scenes make you laugh in despair because the absurdity is so close to reality. Then a sentence or a look lands like a blow.

I was especially convinced by the film’s commitment to its premise. The horror comes from intimacy itself. Ordinary bodily needs become relationship tests; sexual closeness can turn into a medical disaster. It is disgusting, funny, and disturbing, but always human. The film never loses its feeling for the characters.

Michael Shanks makes a bold feature debut. The camera often stays on faces when things become uncomfortable, and the editing lets scenes breathe. Music is used sparingly, but effectively. The effects have a handmade physicality rather than the feel of excessive digital spectacle. That rough, independent quality helps make the film convincing.

There are weaknesses. The final third becomes somewhat overloaded with flashbacks and explanatory dialogue, weakening the first hour’s spell. Jamie also deserves more depth as a supporting character. These are not major ruptures, though. The film remains strong because it is emotionally honest and willing to be uncomfortable.

Together is a film that stays with me. It did not overwhelm me in the conventional sense, but it reached me by showing something rarely explored this way: love can imprison as well as heal. I give it 7 out of 10. Anyone seeking something beyond a polished relationship drama or a routine horror shocker should consider it. The discomfort is part of its strength.