From 1996-2005, I was in an eight-year relationship with my first boyfriend and (if I’m being entirely honest) the love of my life. We shared all of our ‘firsts’ together. But, we also made the mistake of being young and in love and trying to craft an adult relationship at a time when we should have been exploring and just being teenagers. At a certain point, we both came to the realization that – as much as we cared for one another – we needed our space to figure out who we were away from each other. We didn’t know. We met when we were eight-years old. We were best friends for eight-years before we were ‘together’ in an official capacity. We had never known life apart, one from the other, and were both starting to feel that in a very tangible way. We went our separate ways, remained close friends, and never got back together. Personally, I had fallen out of love with being in love, and he (who was always bisexual), ended up meeting an amazing woman and having two amazing kids (I am the godfather to one). Neither of us have regrets about how things went down. We loved each other then. We love each other now. So much of the new horror film, Together, rang true to me, and chilled me to the bone.
You see, Together is all about relationships, particularly how easy it is to lose ourselves in someone else. Real life married couple, Dave Franco and Alison Brie, star as “Tim” and “Millie”, a couple in their mid-thirties figuring out what’s next. Millie is a school teacher, and Tim an out-of-work musician, when they make the decision to move upstate and settle down. Tim is reluctant, but does anything Millie says. Millie wants Tim to be the way he was before the death of his father. After getting lost in the woods during a hike and stumbling upon a strange sunken chapel, Tim and Millie start noticing they can’t keep their hands off each other. And, when they do touch, there’s more difficulty separating than normal. You’ve seen the marketing for this film, so you know what it’s about, body-horror wise. But, apart from that body-horror, there are some genuine ‘back of your neck hair-raising’ scares in Together, all of it serving the film’s thesis that we should maintain our autonomy while also giving in to the idea of ‘togetherness’. Oh, and the entire film is based around a story from Hedwig and the Angry Inch.
As an actress, I’ve never been particularly fond of Alison Brie. She just always seems to be trying a bit too hard for my liking. As Millie, that works because she is trying hard. To keep her relationship together. To do what is best for her. To take care of Tim. She makes the comment, at one point, that she feels like his mother. That’s because she is. At least, Tim has turned her into that. As Tim, Dave Franco delivers his most complex and emotionally resonant performance yet, turning Tim into the lovable sad sack who both drives you crazy and makes you want to nurture him. We see why Tim needs Millie. We eventually see why Millie needs Tim. And it’s that understanding that takes Together where it ultimately goes, leaving us with a final shot that asks so many questions, while leaving itself zero time to answer any of them. I applaud director Michael Shanks for just tossing his heart on screen like that. You can tell this is a painfully personal picture for the filmmaker, and that’s what makes it so damned memorable.
Finally, let’s talk about the elephant in the room which is the lawsuit that was filed against the filmmaker behind Together, claiming the idea was stolen. The claim was initially made by Patrick Henry Phelan, director of a little-seen indie flick called Better Half. I saw it. Then, more claims of plagiarism came from director Benjamin Brewer, who directed the horror film, Arcadian, and an amazing short film called A Folded Ocean, which tackles remarkably similar themes. I have also seen this film and even programmed it at a film festival I ran; it won an award. I can understand why Phelan and Brewer might take issue with Together. They all deal with similar subject matter. But, truthfully – when you’re dealing with this sort of premise, how many different ways can you go? Both A Folded Ocean and Better Half released in 2023, which was years after Michael Shanks, writer/director of Together, first registered his screenplay with the WGA. Films being similar in the ways they tackle confined subject matter is not plagiarism. I’ve seen all three films, and I can certainly say they do not feel ‘of one piece’ at all. In fact, I’d argue Together takes what Better Half and A Folded Ocean did and makes it feel far more human.
What makes more sense? A filmmaker and a major studio like Neon releasing a film that is a blatant rip-off of two smaller films? Or, those smaller films read a draft of Shanks’ screenplay and based their ideas on that? I’m not suggesting that was the case. In fact, I am certain it was not. But, that would make more sense than what is being presented with the lawsuit. At the end of the day, it feels like sour grapes from a filmmaker (Phelan) whose film didn’t set the world on fire, taking aim at the big guys as a way to make up for the lukewarm reception. I hope Neon fights this one to the end and doesn’t let Phelan off the hook. His goal was, obviously, to cause this film and its release damage with what I consider to be a frivolous lawsuit without merit. As for Brewer’s motivations, he’s a pretty awesome guy, so I’d imagine he’s just taken aback by some of the similar visuals (and they are evident). I certainly cannot say Shanks didn’t borrow some of those visuals from A Folded Ocean. But, I don’t call that plagiarism. I can think of several shots in A Folded Ocean that feel ‘borrowed’ from other films. We all use our inspirations in some capacity. That’s okay. Not everything is an assault on someone’s art.
There is something universal about Together that should appeal to anyone in a relationship. You’re going to see a lot of what you’ve probably felt, but in a more violent and horrific depiction. Not every relationship is this co-dependent. But many are. And we allow ourselves to get that way when we start living someone else’s life and not our own. Together appreciates this and is a rallying cry for personal sovereignty, while at the same time completely exploding any ideas we have about gender roles. The conceit of the film might not be original, but the way Shanks handled it very much is, creating nuanced characters, terrifying set pieces, and a real sense of uneasiness throughout. And, yes, there are more than a few moments of levity, which the film needed. Together is one of the finest horror films of the year and a stunning example of what we can squeeze out of our own personal horrors. The director of Better Half can bitch and moan all he likes, but Together took a similar idea and went places that film never could have. A conceit is not yours, as a filmmaker. Together feels fresh and remarkable. It’s a shame it has had to deal with any fallout whatsoever. Luckily, it’s too strong to be torn apart.
RATING: ****/***** (currently playing in theatres everywhere)
