Michael Shanks’ Together is a potent slice of creepy, culty body horror. It delivers what’s on the tin; what you’re sold is what you get. That’s not to say there’s a shortage of enthusiasm or conceptualization. Shanks’ feature-length directorial debut is wound tight and gets to business, spilling genre elements onto the screen posthaste. There’s a charm to the film’s unpretentious simplicity as Shanks bites directly into his story’s Lovecraft x Cronenberg meat, forgoing distractions for a fast and efficient horror scenario.
Alison Brie and Dave Franco star as Millie and Tim, a big-city couple who move into a quiet countryside community. Millie works as a teacher, while Tim focuses on his music career in his home studio. Their relationship is steady, but the relocation adds extra stress. Millie and Tim decide to hike the surrounding woods to clear their heads but fall into a hole that appears to be a sunken church. They have no choice but to spend the night underground and pull themselves out in the morning, and while asleep, something strange happens. Millie and Tim find themselves being pulled together by an invisible force, which, as you might predict, complicates their situation further.
Together is a movie about pushes and pulls. Millie and Tim are being physically pulled together, with the threat of fully melding into a single entity. Their desires also push them apart, as Tim sacrifices industry proximity to give Millie the estate of their dreams. Shanks uses absorbing body horror to represent Millie and Tim’s relationship problems visually — the stubbornness pulling them apart and the paranoia of becoming one homogenous blob. There’s nothing fancy about themes or metaphors, but that allows Shanks to hone his single idea versus stretching thinner across multiple storylines.
Brie and Franco bring their marital chemistry into Together, almost like a performance cheat code. The ups and downs all feel honest and experienced because that’s the work that goes into any relationship. There’s an intimacy that can’t be faked as Millie and Tim encounter common interpersonal hurdles and trust as their bodies are hurled into one another. The physical closeness required to achieve the film’s more disturbing, elastic visuals play better in their hands because Brie and Franco understand what Shanks’ lovers are going through in that instant beyond basic revulsion. Either they give in and combine or separately fight an unseeable force forever — any rocky relationship’s dilemma.
Shanks lets his special effects designers shine and keeps the pedal pressed regarding pacing. Lovecraftian elements influence a higher-power series of unknowns, while Cronenberg or Yuzna comparisons are inescapable as Millie and Tim’s exteriors draw like taffy. What starts with a lower-stakes shot of becoming glued together escalates into impressively unsettling bodily smashups. Whether that’s a passionate sex scene that ends with any male viewer secondhand wincing or the close calls that literally get under someone’s skin, Shanks executes plenty of rad body horror imagery. There’s no skimping on the good stuff, which is why this diabolical terror-drama stands out from the crowd.
My review might seem simplistic in its own right. “I like Together because it accomplishes its objectives and is a breezy watch.” In Shanks’ defense, countless filmmakers fail to do even that. Whether its lofty ambitions gone awry or another excuse, something elementary becomes frustratingly bland.
For that reason alone, Together gets a recommendation. There’s a transparency to Shanks’ intentions that’s enviously direct: tell a twisted love story and gross audiences out. Brie and Franco lose themselves to their character’s fears, shouldering the near entirety of Together (Damon Herriman is their only neighbor, the sole supporting role). In business terms, Shanks uses the “underpromise, overdeliver” method to keep us happy. Underpromise what to expect from your body horror flick and overdeliver on icky mutations that’ll have you howling like mad. That’s the key to success.
Movie Score: 3.5/5