When David Cronenberg wrote The Brood in the late 1970s, the body horror maestro was going through an acrimonious divorce and custody battle. It’s a deeply personal film full of rage which manifests as a gross intertwining of the physical and psychological. It’s a hugely influential horror in its depiction of relationships and the anxieties that come with connecting yourself to another human being. Australian writer-director Michael Shanks takes a similar personal and icky approach to the subject of co-dependency as Alison Brie and Dave Franco (who are together in real life) star as a couple with major issues.
Tim (Franco) is an out of work musician who just can’t seem to get his big break. He’s also grieving the recent death of his parents in nightmarish circumstances. Millie (Brie) has just been offered a teaching opportunity in the country, so they say goodbye to their life in the city and take the plunge. From then, it’s just the two of them. After a hike to the woods, where they spend a night in an abandoned cave, things take a weird turn. A mysterious goo literally bonds them together at the legs and, even though they manage to tear their skin apart, a strange force keeps drawing them back to one another in the most uncomfortable, violent and embarrassing ways.
Get more Little White Lies
Shanks uses a combination of practical and visual effects to bring the couple’s fears to life, but also in the creation of a large organism that brings to mind Ridley Scott’s Alien, John Carpenter’s The Thing and more recently Amat Escalante’s The Untamed. The filmmaker throws a few too many recognisable horror nods into the mix but develops his own lore when it comes to the unfolding mysteries. Fellow teacher Jamie (Damon Herriman) quotes Plato and speaks about soulmates with Millie when she’s going through a hard time with Tim and it all feeds neatly into the finale, even if the metaphor becomes slightly strained.
Brie and Franco are predictably great in their roles, fully embracing the physicality of the performances and a willingness to go to some unexpected and painful-looking places. What really works in the film’s favour is that it’s not just an angry back and forth between the two; there’s a brilliantly written dark humour that plays out in their interactions. Both actors relish in the comedy with some superbly pitched line delivery. Shanks toys with the jump scare and passive-aggressive conversations in hilarious ways and delivers a perfect needle drop with a Spice Girls song. It’s a shame Together doesn’t lean into the humour more, as that’s what really sets it apart from other disturbing body horror with similar DNA.
