Disrepair

What I really loved about this series is how it doesn't pretend. It doesn't dress itself up to make you feel good or deliver some neat, perfect ending where everyone magically gets better. Instead, it leans into the uncomfortable truth that not everyone changes. Not every situation gets resolved. Sometimes people just stay stuck - and you're left watching, hoping, getting frustrated... and realizing how familiar that feels.

The main character isn't some heroic comeback story waiting to happen. He's messy, lost, and at times, completely hopeless. You want him to figure it out. You want him to finally fight back against the chaos closing in on him. But instead, he almost embraces the collapse. There's something brutally honest about watching someone sit in the wreckage of their own life because the fire feels safer than the unknown. Isn't that something we've all either seen or felt in our own way?

What really stood out to me is how this show captured not just his struggle, but how his downfall ripples through the people around him. His family isn't perfect either - they've got their own battles, and sometimes it feels like they're just surviving, holding on by a thread. The dynamic felt painfully true to life. Some people are forced to be strong for others who can't carry themselves. It's exhausting. It's messy. It's real.

And then there's the ending - or really, the lack of one. No big breakthrough. No redemption arc. Just the uncomfortable silence of life continuing, unresolved. I didn't mind that. I actually respected it. Because that's reality. Things don't always get better. Sometimes all we get is the chance to keep moving forward, even when it's unclear where we're headed.

Sure, there were flaws - a few scenes could've looked sharper, and some dialogue didn't land perfectly. But honestly? That just added to the rough, unpolished vibe of the whole story. Not everything needs to be pretty to be powerful.

I'm surprised by how harsh some of the criticism has been. For me, this wasn't about flawless execution. It was about telling a story that reflects how hard, ugly, and unfinished real life can be. Watching this reminded me that it's okay to sit with the discomfort, to not have all the answers, and to appreciate what we have even when it's far from perfect.

Huge respect to the cast, the crew, and everyone behind this project. You captured something raw and real - and that's what stayed with me.

The film really got to me because I've lived through something similar. Jake's fight to stay sober and fix things with his family felt so real. Like the movie was pulling scenes straight from my life.

I loved how honest it was. Addiction isn't some dramatic movie plot here; it's just hard, ugly, and exhausting, just like in real life. Jake doesn't magically get better overnight. He messes up, he hurts people, and he has to work for every bit of progress. The way his family doesn't just forgive him right away felt true to me. Trust takes time to rebuild.

The acting was good, especially Jake. You could see the guilt and hope in his eyes. Every awkward conversation with his family, every moment where they don't know whether to believe him again. Just like in real life.

If you've ever dealt with addiction (yours or someone else's), this movie will mean something to you. It's not flashy or over-the-top. Just real, painful, and sometimes hopeful. One of the more interesting films I've seen in a long time because it actually understands the problem.

I might question some parts of the movie itself but....... it's the story that spoke to me.

So inspiring and stimulating, this is truly about human struggles and a true Journey, I love the storyline and I truly feel that with the overload of content out there this one really stands out with its authentic message. I like watching shows that you can actually learn something through someone's growth process , sobriety and the obstacles standing in one's way to maintain it , the acting is great as well. I highly recommend watching if you want to learn more about people struggling with addiction and life in general. Good job on brining content that's actually meaningful, compassionate and raw.

Disrepair is a raw, emotional triumph that grabs you by the heart and refuses to let go. Matthew Sauvé crafts a deeply moving story that feels both intimate and universally resonant. From the very first frame, the film immerses you in a world of vulnerability, isolation, and the quiet strength of the human spirit.

The cinematography is stunning - every shot feels purposeful, echoing the main character's emotional state with breathtaking precision. The use of light and shadow adds a poetic layer to the already gripping narrative. Sauvé's direction is both delicate and daring, handling complex themes with a maturity and grace rarely seen in modern cinema.

The performances are extraordinary. The lead delivers a quiet intensity that speaks volumes even in silence. It's a performance rooted in truth, and it stays with you long after the credits roll.

What truly sets Disrepair apart is its honesty. It doesn't shy away from pain, but it never exploits it either. It's a reminder of how film can be art - not just entertainment, but a mirror to our souls.

This isn't just a film - it's an experience. One that lingers, one that matters.

Bravo, Matthew Sauvé. Disrepair is a must-watch.

Disrepair hit me in a way few movies do. Not because of flashy effects or a twisty plot, but because of how raw and honest it felt. Watching Jake Thomas try to rebuild his life after years of addiction was incredibly moving. The film doesn't sugarcoat the damage caused, but it also doesn't let you forget the hope that comes with trying again.

A friend of mine went through something very similar, and she said this was the first time she saw her struggle reflected so truthfully on screen. The performances were powerful, especially in the quiet moments where Jake faces his past. Disrepair isn't just about addiction-it's about the messy, painful, and courageous work of healing.