An icky-sweet metaphor for codependence, ‘Together’ is romantic body horror with a heart

This year, “Together” by Michael Shanks is the unique romantic production captivated by both John Carpenter’s filmmaking style and philosophical musings of Plato.

In a blend of body-horror themes and relationship counseling, the story revolves around a submerged cave filled with water, drinking which triggers cells to yearn for fusion with the closest mammal. Initially, this compulsion to combine takes over two dogs, merging them much like the monstrous hybrid in “The Thing.” Luckily, the scene doesn’t dwell too long; the whining is sufficient. Now, it’s time for Tim and Millie, an unhappy couple portrayed by real-life spouses Dave Franco and Alison Brie, to experience this phenomenon. Having left the city for a forest in hopes of rekindling their relationship, they instead find themselves in a situation that merges rather than saves their bond – a more fitting description would be “Blend.

In Jamie’s perspective as a history teacher, Plato’s “Symposium” suggests an intriguing metaphor for codependence. The story goes that humans were initially multi-limbed beings who frolicked freely, much like gooey blobs, even performing cartwheels. To assert control, Zeus split these mortal beings in half, reasoning that our relentless search for our lost counterparts would keep us too preoccupied to challenge Mount Olympus. If this plan didn’t work, he left us with only one leg, forcing us to hop around (Shanks can ponder the single-legged scenario for a potential sequel).

It’s important to recognize that Plato was joking with an ancient jest, “Take my wife – Zeus!”, which still resonates today due to the significant role mating plays in our lives. Maintaining a relationship, especially over a long period like Tim and Millie’s decade-long one, can be challenging as they grow apart in maturity. Their attempts to stay together seem more like a three-legged race than joyful Greek acrobatics, and Millie admits early on, “I’m not sure if we love each other or if we’re simply accustomed to each other.

Brie and Franco’s relationship, while showcasing intimacy, seems to tone down the passion. Few instances allow for a deep emotional bond between the characters. The story doesn’t offer a glimpse into their personal lives, keeping us close to Millie’s friend Cath (played by Mia Morrissey). Cath openly wishes for their separation. Millie and Tim have relied on each other extensively over time, leaving them uncertain about standing alone. The upcoming emotional and physical turmoil feels like a train moving towards an inevitable catastrophe. There are chances to get off, but everyone seems hesitant to act.

Shanks observes how a long-term couple allocates tasks and roles, shaping their identities around what they provide, thus losing some degree of individuality. For instance, Tim can’t drive, while Millie can’t cook. Tim is the struggling musician, and Millie has the steady job. Millie reluctantly refers to herself as the boring one. Meanwhile, Millie finds it challenging to define Tim’s position, awkwardly telling Jamie, her partner, “Tim, my man, my male partner Tim,” illustrating her struggle to label him effectively.

Boyfriend” is more common. The design teams have dressed Franco, the hipster, in silly sweatshirts and a budding mullet. However, he can’t seem to fully embrace even the most notoriously indecisive hairstyle. But before long, Tim finds himself unable to stay away from Millie for a second. Whenever he touches her, everything else seems to fade away: The details become blurred, the fine hairs on Brie’s skin shimmer in the light, and her muscles make loud creaking noises, like shifting tectonic plates. She’s puzzled. He keeps apologizing, growing more and more agitated and anxious.

The movie boasts visually striking, tactile imagery reminiscent of handling soft butter beneath the uncooked skin of a turkey during Thanksgiving preparation. In “It Happened One Night,” Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable were kept apart by a fragile partition like the Wall of Jericho. Confronting difficulties, Millie and Tim in this case resort to using an electric saw instead.

Brie’s character, Millie, is both sensible and vulnerable, while Franco’s character, Tim, evokes a sense of pity due to his role as a troubled boyfriend. His distant demeanor can be attributed to the tragic loss of his father and his mother’s mental breakdown, as well as the unfulfilled dreams of stardom in rock ‘n’ roll. Luke, Millie’s younger brother (played by Jack Kenny), expresses frustration, saying, “I thought you’d make Millie cooler.” He trails off, implying that instead, Tim has not lived up to expectations, perhaps taking a toll on his self-esteem.

As a debut director, Shanks masterfully connects with the viewers’ perspective. Understanding that we are aware of the film’s outcome due to its title, his role is to intensify the predictable moments in ways that evoke discomfort and surprise. Collaborating with cinematographer Germain McMicking and production designer Nicholas Dare, he places us in familiar jump scare settings – dark corridors or underground lairs – and then subtly misdirects our gaze, making us look at unexpected areas of the scene.

In his writing, Shanks skillfully uses deception in the storyline as well. He leads us to notice the hidden wedding ring on Herriman’s character Jamie, making her seem like a typical romantic comedy heroine. However, instead of confirming our suspicions, he cleverly manipulates them by twisting the plot multiple times. When the scene we had been anticipating with apprehension – the couple choosing to do something mature beyond just holding hands – finally unfolds, it turns out to be more awkward and humiliating than we could have ever imagined.

In a more relaxed and conversational manner: I have some issues with the movie’s ending that are almost spoilers, so let me rephrase instead of revealing them directly. However, the charm of this film lies in its editor, Sean Lahiff, who edits like a master of shock comedy. He loves sudden jolts and exaggerated punchlines, such as when Millie advises Tim not to act foolishly, only for Lahiff to abruptly cut to the character running wildly away. It’s surprising that “Together” seems so serious, yet it’s comically constructed. Beneath its prestigious exterior, the awkward humor is like a hidden skeleton. Despite being heartbreakingly tragic to watch our leads struggle and ultimately melt together, just like melting cheese, it’s wonderfully done. Here’s a modern take on an old joke: Make my wife – cheese!

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2025-07-29 23:31