

Together

With a move to the countryside already testing the limits of a couple's relationship, a supernatural encounter begins an extreme transformation of their love, their lives, and their flesh.
With a move to the countryside already testing the limits of a couple's relationship, a supernatural encounter begins an extreme transformation of their love, their lives, and their flesh.
Horror has always been fertile ground for exploring universal anxieties, and “Together,” by Michael Shanks, gets this in a way few films do. It starts from a simple but deeply unsettling premise: what happens when you finally find the stable relationship you’ve always wanted, only to notice invisible cracks forming between you and the other person? From that idea, Shanks builds an intimate nightmare, turning life as a couple into a minefield of existential fears, where love and disgust, union and dissolution, walk side by side. The result is a film that balances grotesque body horror with genuine affection, provoking both nervous laughter and visceral unease.
At its core, the film is about Tim and Millie, played with intensity by Dave Franco and Alison Brie, whose chemistry feels so natural that every gesture and silence between them carries enormous emotional weight. He’s a musician chasing recognition, stuck in dreams that might never come true; she’s a more grounded, resilient teacher, trying to lead them toward a steadier life in the countryside. Right from the start, it’s clear that the move isn’t just geographical, it’s symbolic, one last attempt to save not only their relationship but also the sense of identity each one clings to. And it’s in this shift to the so-called “simple life” that things start to twist, revealing that the real horror isn’t outside in the dark, but in what happens when two people begin to fuse in irreversible ways.
The film takes a sharp turn when an accident during a hike drags the couple into an almost “alien,” claustrophobic, viscous environment that feels outside of time. From there, Shanks dials up the story with a string of unsettling and mesmerizing images, where bodies contort, merge, and break apart in the name of a love we’re no longer sure is salvation or damnation. You can see the fingerprints of David Lynch and Ari Aster, but they’re never used as empty references, “Together” reworks these influences with freshness, relying on striking practical effects and a raw physicality that leaves the audience nearly breathless. What’s remarkable is how each grotesque transformation isn’t gratuitous but mirrors, with disturbing accuracy, the issues of trust, dependence, and suffocation that haunt long-term relationships.
Visually, the film mixes naturalism with unease. The bucolic countryside, first bathed in warm, welcoming tones, is slowly corrupted by damp, dark, organic imagery, as if the landscape itself mirrored the couple’s unraveling minds. The cinematography creates sharp contrasts between the bright outdoors and the darkness of interiors – caves, attics, hallways – always reinforcing the sense of entrapment. Sound design is just as crucial: creaks, breaths, and sticky noises turn silence into something unbearable. This attention to detail makes the horror effective not just through visual shock but through an atmosphere that suffocates and overwhelms.
Another strength is the biting humor woven through the story. Shanks doesn’t shy away from irony, especially in intimate moments, whether it’s the almost absurd way Tim’s body reacts to changes or the tense little exchanges that expose the couple’s shaky communication. Far from breaking immersion, the humor actually heightens the unease, showing how even the most grotesque moments can coexist with the banal routines of a couple still trying to love each other. On top of that, Damon Herriman as Jamie, the well-meaning but quietly enigmatic neighbor, adds nuance. He serves as an outside mirror to the couple’s cracks without ever stealing focus.
The climax, when the transformations finally reach a point of no return, is brutal and cathartic, yet painfully intimate. “Together” isn’t just aiming to shock with extreme body horror; it wants us to grasp that behind the terror lies a parable about loving someone so much you lose yourself in them, about the fear of disappearing within a relationship, and about the strange resilience that might still remain after a fusion that feels impossible to undo. It’s not just a spectacle of flesh and blood, it’s also a sharp, darkly funny reflection on commitment, dependency, and the fragile line between “me” and “us.”
Overall, “Together” works because it’s not just a stylistic exercise or a patchwork of references, it’s got heart. A bleeding, throbbing, unsettling heart, but a human one all the same. With this feature debut, Shanks shows both confidence and a unique voice, delivering a film that manages to be scary, funny, and emotionally devastating all at once. It’s rare to find horror that makes you laugh and squirm in equal measure, and even rarer when, behind all the blood and body horror, there’s such a painful and recognizable truth about what it really means to be with someone.
I would love my partner to the ends of the earth but not for this shit absolutely not fuck off we are not THAT CLOSE and for the record YES it was horrifying but fawking disturbing like this movie came from the pits of HELL ITSELF OH HELL NAWW GET AWAY FROM ME IMMEDIATELY 😭😭it was peak tho
So much creepy man....after The Substance, it was the one that achieved this level of creepiness. Also, it was an original unique theme. A fresh new take on body horror.
This turned out to be great year for horror. Sinner, Bring Her Back, Together, Weapons (not yet released in ott), Conjuring 4 (upcoming).
**Thoroughly and completely enjoyed this. I want more.**
This was a good movie. Creative, although predictable the execution was amazing. Yes my young minds this is a MUST WATCH!
If we don't split now, it will be much harder later.
Wanted to love it based on the word of mouth and "best horror movie of the year" marketing and it very well is a great film, however, I was a bit let down by the shifting tone (did it want to be scary or funny?) and the predictable ending / rushed final act. Fantastic acting, great cinematography, and some really fun horror sequences, but I wanted way more gore and carnage to justify the hype. It would cut away anytime the movie wanted to be truly violent which is disappointing for a body horror genre film. It has some really cool visual effects, but none of it made me cringe in my seat like other body horror movies. Great watch, but temper your expectations a bit as it is more of a horror comedy in the second and third acts.
The most romantic movie of the year?
Huge for people into Vore.
But then again, getting stuck to Alison Brie is not such a bad thing
I like this movie, it is refreshingly funny and at the same time was able to give me goose bumps and an adrenaline kick I crave for in other titles.
If you have seen (and liked) genre movies like the body horror "The Substance" or the masterpiece "Hereditary", you get what this movie is trying to do. It mixes both. The horror and scare factor is comparable to Hereditary, some of the scares might even be a reference and the ew-scenes, while lacking the explicitness of the best movies, are fun and engaging!
Probably the worst offense this movie has going agains it? Well, some of the plot points introduced feel half assed and at times it is like they threw paint at the wall and looked what sticked. Also there has been a plot twist that was visible even while watching a different movie, it was that obvious. As such the finale was unsurprising and even felt a tad uncompleted. Not uncompleted like a cliffhanger, just in a way that did not make sense entirely from how characters reacted and what they did.
Still, I really had a good time in the cinema!
Horror has always been fertile ground for exploring universal anxieties, and “Together,” by Michael Shanks, gets this in a way few films do. It starts from a simple but deeply unsettling premise: what happens when you finally find the stable relationship you’ve always wanted, only to notice invisible cracks forming between you and the other person? From that idea, Shanks builds an intimate nightmare, turning life as a couple into a minefield of existential fears, where love and disgust, union and dissolution, walk side by side. The result is a film that balances grotesque body horror with genuine affection, provoking both nervous laughter and visceral unease.
At its core, the film is about Tim and Millie, played with intensity by Dave Franco and Alison Brie, whose chemistry feels so natural that every gesture and silence between them carries enormous emotional weight. He’s a musician chasing recognition, stuck in dreams that might never come true; she’s a more grounded, resilient teacher, trying to lead them toward a steadier life in the countryside. Right from the start, it’s clear that the move isn’t just geographical, it’s symbolic, one last attempt to save not only their relationship but also the sense of identity each one clings to. And it’s in this shift to the so-called “simple life” that things start to twist, revealing that the real horror isn’t outside in the dark, but in what happens when two people begin to fuse in irreversible ways.
The film takes a sharp turn when an accident during a hike drags the couple into an almost “alien,” claustrophobic, viscous environment that feels outside of time. From there, Shanks dials up the story with a string of unsettling and mesmerizing images, where bodies contort, merge, and break apart in the name of a love we’re no longer sure is salvation or damnation. You can see the fingerprints of David Lynch and Ari Aster, but they’re never used as empty references, “Together” reworks these influences with freshness, relying on striking practical effects and a raw physicality that leaves the audience nearly breathless. What’s remarkable is how each grotesque transformation isn’t gratuitous but mirrors, with disturbing accuracy, the issues of trust, dependence, and suffocation that haunt long-term relationships.
Visually, the film mixes naturalism with unease. The bucolic countryside, first bathed in warm, welcoming tones, is slowly corrupted by damp, dark, organic imagery, as if the landscape itself mirrored the couple’s unraveling minds. The cinematography creates sharp contrasts between the bright outdoors and the darkness of interiors – caves, attics, hallways – always reinforcing the sense of entrapment. Sound design is just as crucial: creaks, breaths, and sticky noises turn silence into something unbearable. This attention to detail makes the horror effective not just through visual shock but through an atmosphere that suffocates and overwhelms.
Another strength is the biting humor woven through the story. Shanks doesn’t shy away from irony, especially in intimate moments, whether it’s the almost absurd way Tim’s body reacts to changes or the tense little exchanges that expose the couple’s shaky communication. Far from breaking immersion, the humor actually heightens the unease, showing how even the most grotesque moments can coexist with the banal routines of a couple still trying to love each other. On top of that, Damon Herriman as Jamie, the well-meaning but quietly enigmatic neighbor, adds nuance. He serves as an outside mirror to the couple’s cracks without ever stealing focus.
The climax, when the transformations finally reach a point of no return, is brutal and cathartic, yet painfully intimate. “Together” isn’t just aiming to shock with extreme body horror; it wants us to grasp that behind the terror lies a parable about loving someone so much you lose yourself in them, about the fear of disappearing within a relationship, and about the strange resilience that might still remain after a fusion that feels impossible to undo. It’s not just a spectacle of flesh and blood, it’s also a sharp, darkly funny reflection on commitment, dependency, and the fragile line between “me” and “us.”
Overall, “Together” works because it’s not just a stylistic exercise or a patchwork of references, it’s got heart. A bleeding, throbbing, unsettling heart, but a human one all the same. With this feature debut, Shanks shows both confidence and a unique voice, delivering a film that manages to be scary, funny, and emotionally devastating all at once. It’s rare to find horror that makes you laugh and squirm in equal measure, and even rarer when, behind all the blood and body horror, there’s such a painful and recognizable truth about what it really means to be with someone.