Together: Juntos Hasta La Muerte

It doesn't happen that often that we get genuinely fresh, original ideas in horror - and when it does, it feels so bloody good. 'Together' (2025) is exactly that. A grotesque, clever, and oddly funny little gem that had me cringing, laughing, and totally hooked the entire time.

The concept is unhinged in the best way: a couple moves to the countryside... and starts getting TOO attached. What unfolds is what I can best describe as a rom-com body horror (yes, really) that somehow makes co-dependency literal... and it weirdly works. So well.

Body horror isn't for everyone, but this is so well done. The practical effects are gnarly in the best way - just the right amount of gross to make your stomach turn while keeping you glued to the screen. It leans into the absurdity, but underneath the chaos is a surprisingly honest look at toxic love, compromise, and identity.

Alison Brie and Dave Franco are absolutely fantastic. You totally buy into them as a couple who love each other but maybe shouldn't be together. Or maybe should? I don't even know. That's part of the fun.

And I have to say - any film shot in Melbourne gets an automatic bonus point from me. There's something so satisfying about seeing our suburbs twisted into something this surreal.

Cringey in all the right ways. Disgusting in the best possible sense. 'Together' is one of the most original horror films I've seen in ages - and it will absolutely satisfy genre lovers looking for something bold, grotesque and new.

Roger Ebert used to talk about "clangs," which are improbable moments in a movie that jar the viewer from their suspension of disbelief and remind them that what they're watching is a lie. Clangs are subjective, and for me, a clang is only really jarring if it undermines some important aspect of the film. TOGETHER is an allegorical body horror film about relationship codependency that shows a lot of promise but unfortunately fails to truly deliver because of just how many clangs occur throughout some parts where it counts.

I'll list some of these clangs.

Tim and Millie are a couple in their late 30s who have what appears to be a pretty good life living in the city (Seattle perhaps?). Their life is so socially rich that they can throw a party for a large number of their close friends to toast their own going away with heartfelt speeches. They don't appear to want for money. There appear to be zero "push" factors that are forcing them to leave the city for some place new.

Instead, there's just a single pull factor: Millie has accepted a job as a ninth grade English teacher in rural Washington State. We can assume that this would be a pay cut, if only because she would have probably accrued 15 to 20 years of salary and benefit increases working as a teacher in the city. Her sole reason for ditching one job--and closeness to a huge network of friends, her family, her boyfriend's livelihood and everything he cares about, etc.--is because something about the job posting has suggested to her that the kids in this town will be "passionate" about learning whereas that hasn't been possible elsewhere. Right.

Is it impossible that someone would make such a decision? No, of course not. But the movie gives us all sorts of reasons for why this move will be costly, gives us almost nothing to suggest that the move is really worthwhile, and doesn't even interrogate that tension. What could have been a very quick fix in a small revision to the screenplay--perhaps she's an adjunct professor who's been offered a tenure-track position at a small university town in the middle of nowhere, which would have obvious large advantages for her--is instead left as a nagging clang of a poorly written detail.

Next, there's Tim's aspiration to be a professional musician. At one point in the movie, Millie and her best friend insult him for being a 35-year-old man who still dreams of being a rock star. This is presented as a sad little fact of his existence, but this fact is in direct contradiction to some of the exposition presented at the beginning of the film: he was recently signed to a record label, and Millie's brother is indeed a rising rock star who is signed to a label, going on a national tour, and offering to employ Tim as a musician. It's one thing if Tim has nothing whatsoever to show for his ambitious rock star dream. But Millie's attitude seems to suggest that she has forgotten altogether that her own little brother is indeed a rising rock star. Tim's very real chance of success as a professional working musician is completely dismissed by a high school English teacher who's just quit her own job to fulfill the dream of there being "passionate students" elsewhere.

I was going to keep going--like how even the timeline when she starts her new teaching job (late into the school year?) doesn't make much sense--but I'll actually stop here.

You may say that these are minor problems. After all, I already suggested a quick edit that would fix the problem necessitating their move. Some other quick fixes--like cutting out the brother character--could fix that other problem, too. But for me those little clangs matter because this isn't just a supernatural thriller about weird things in the water. Rather, this is presented as being a meaningful story about a relationship, and specifically a relationship in which two people are making decisions and sacrifices in order to share a life together. If this were just a story about weird things in the water, then the plot contrivances that get them to drink that water don't really matter. But from beginning to end, this film presents itself as a story in which the weird water is actually secondary and that what is primary is their recognizable reality as a high school teacher and an aspiring musician who've been in a stale, sexless relationship for ten years. And so it's important that we believe that reality. And it's not good when basic facts about their material existence come across as poorly thought out plot holes.

So this movie fails at fully delivering on the allegorical aspects because the reality it's meaningfully commenting on doesn't seem to have much foothold in reality.

That said, there is a lot that's enjoyable in this film. The body horror is effectively grotesque, there's a good amount of humor, and the lore that sustains the premise--while a little silly--is pretty clever. When Franco and Brie are in the thick of it, particularly in the second half of the movie, it becomes a lot easier to forget about the weaknesses of the screenplay and instead appreciate the chemistry brought by their real-life off-screen marriage.

Overall, I think writer-director Michael Shanks has a good bit of talent and has made a memorable movie. I just wish he'd given the screenplay another pass before committing it to film.

My girlfriend and I went to this movie as part of Landmarks mystery movie night. I found the movie really kept you guessing as to what direction it was going to go. I thought Franco and Brie were great for their respective roles. The movie took a turn halfway through that threw me off, but it brought me back in at the end.

Not a revolutionary horror movie by any means but I quite enjoyed it! Recommend for anyone that's interested in checking out an original and interesting horror movie with some depth. I have found myself thinking about the film over the past few days since I saw it. It has a good mix of themes and had a few good laughs.

A bit outlandish at times (maybe even most of the time) but nonetheless I found it entertaining. Check it out 🙂

I'll be honest when I say that the trailers never properly sold me on this movie, it made it seem like a completely different movie than what we got.

The concept is really unique. While there's been some chatter online about possible plagiarism, that's not my place to weigh in on. What I can say is that this film stands on its own with a bold and bizarre approach. The effects are striking, and some moments hit a level of fear and discomfort that really stays with you. It does an excellent job portraying anxiety and the disorienting terror of dreams that blur into reality.

Dave Franco delivers what might be his best performance to date, giving the character a desperate vulnerability that anchors the whole thing. Alison Brie complements him perfectly, and their chemistry helps ground the madness with emotional weight and some dark humour.

It's disturbing, oddly beautiful and full of surprises. If you're into surreal horror with emotional undercurrents and a touch of body horror, it's absolutely worth checking out.

When real-life couples star together, the resulting film can take on a fascinating meta-layer. Although their offscreen bond doesn't necessarily blur into their characters, it inevitably hovers in the background. Mike Nichols' 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' wasn't simply a searing portrait of marital warfare; it was also Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, cinema's most famous spouses, sparring with a ferocity that audiences couldn't help but connect to their tempestuous private lives.

Likewise, Stanley Kubrick's 'Eyes Wide Shut' wasn't just a puzzle about desire and fidelity. Echoed against the backdrop of Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman's highly publicized marriage, the couple's casting lent an extra layer of voyeuristic intrigue to the film. That extra-textual dimension doesn't alter the story, but it makes the fiction feel charged in ways it otherwise wouldn't.

This is also the case with Michael Shanks' 'Together,' starring the real-life couple Dave Franco and Alison Brie. A body-horror à la Coralie Fargeat's 'The Substance,' the film follows long-time partners Tim and Millie, who have been drifting apart. After relocating to the countryside, they encounter a mysterious force that starts to reshape their lives, forcing them closer than ever. Soon, their romance becomes a macabre affair, as the boundaries between co-dependence and monstrosity irrevocably blur.

Atmospheric, visceral and laced with dark humour, Shanks' film grips from start to finish. Essentially a Cronenbergian romantic comedy, it's bloody good fun, with some thematic weight. Shanks' narrative cleverly uses the language of body-horror to externalize the often-unspoken dynamics undermining relationships. More than an external threat, the disgusting entity that binds Tim and Millie embodies their neediness for, and resentment towards, one another.

Horror has always excelled at making the abstract tangible- whether it be desire as parasite, or intimacy as contagion- and Shanks leans into that tradition with gory relish. In 'Together', the spectacle of skin and sinew isn't there for shock alone, but as a metaphor for how love can devour, how co-dependence can trap partners in a suffocating cycle of intimacy. As proceedings intensify, the couple's bond is forced into a crucible, revealing both the strength and fragility of their connection.

Shanks' strong characterisation emphasises this point, especially when it comes to Tim. He is far from a traditional macho protagonist, being a vulnerable, tentative man marked by trauma. He can't work a compass or start a fire, and relies heavily on Millie in everyday situations. His hesitancy and fragility ground the film, making the couple's descent into grotesquerie more affecting than it otherwise might be.

Millie, too, is drawn with nuance; a smart young teacher who loves Tim and wants the best for him, but whose patience sometimes frays under the weight of his insecurities. Together, they feel less like genre archetypes and more a realistic couple. Their exchanges throughout are natural, laced with a dry wit that feels true to life. At its core, the film is a love story, which works because one believes in Tim and Millie's bond- the tenderness beneath the terror.

Visually, the film is as striking as it is unsettling. Germain McMicking's cinematography cloaks the rural setting in a pall of damp greys and muted greens, evoking both isolation and decay. Further, Nicholas Dare's production design makes the world feel intimate yet suffocating, deeply alive- disquietingly breathing.

In addition, the effects work is impressively tactile, leaning on practical gore and prosthetics rather than CGI, giving things a raw, clammy immediacy. Shanks doesn't flinch from grotesque detail, yet the imagery never tips into gratuity. Just as crucial are the sound design and score: the former wringing dread from creaks, squelches and silences, the latter pulsing uneasily beneath the action without overwhelming it. Further, Sean Lahiff's editing is sharp and economical, ensuring every shock lands with precision.

As Tim and Millie, Dave Franco and Alison Brie's real-life marriage lends their on-screen intimacy a raw authenticity, making Shanks' vision of closeness-turning-hideous even more disturbing. Both deliver powerhouse performances- Franco in particular, showing a vulnerability and range rarely glimpsed in his comedic work. Brie, meanwhile, plays Millie with a sharp mix of exasperation and tenderness, anchoring the film's emotional core. Damon Herriman also does fine work in a supporting role as Millie's work colleague Jamie, whose personable demeanour belies a hidden darkness.

In conclusion, Michael Shanks' 'Together' is bloody great: a grisly reflection of intimacy, co-dependence and the messy realities of love. Dave Franco and Alison Brie work wonderfully together, grounding Shanks' Cronenbergian vision in something startlingly human. With tactile effects, evocative cinematography and a keen ear for dread, the film shows how passion can curdle into possession, with devastating consequences. In short, in the realm of body-horror, 'Together' stands apart.