Together (2025) – A Sticky, Soul-Melding Body Horror Romance

Together kicks off with a tantalizing mystery: shadowy glimpses of an underground cavern, like a collapsed church bell tower harboring something ancient and eerie, that hooks you right away. But it quickly fades into the mundane rhythm of coupledom, before snapping back with a bang. The film weaves supernatural dread into an intimate portrait of codependency, exploring how passion can curdle into possession—literally. The practical effects are memorably gnarly (think bodies contorting, merging, and resisting in ways that feel tactile and terrifying), and the meta casting of Franco and Brie as spouses adds an authentic, lived-in spark to the chaos. It's not just gore for gore's sake; there's a poignant undercurrent about soulmates, drawing from Greek myths like Aristophanes' tale in Plato's Symposium of lovers as split halves yearning to reunite. Body and soul entwine in "perfect" harmony? Sounds romantic—until it gets weirdly gravitational. I appreciated how it made me rethink intimacy's darker edges, but jump scares felt cheap and nonsensical (my least favorite horror trope), and some domestic lulls had me itching to fast-forward. It's thoughtful horror that's equal parts disturbing and oddly tender—great for a single, reflective viewing, but not one I'd revisit.

The Plot: From Countryside Crossroads to Carnal Catastrophe

Years into their relationship, Tim (Dave Franco), a floundering indie musician, and Millie (Alison Brie), his older girlfriend and a dedicated grade-school teacher, uproot their city life for a quaint countryside home—her new job's the catalyst, but tensions simmer over commitment, dreams deferred, and the age gap's subtle strains. As they settle in, a hike gone wrong leads them tumbling into that enigmatic underground lair, awakening an unnatural force that binds them in horrifying ways: a bizarre gravity pulling their bodies together, starting with subtle tugs and escalating to flesh-warping fusion. What begins as a testy relational reset spirals into a fight for autonomy amid the melding—conversations turn claustrophobic, intimacy invasive, and the cavern's secrets (tied to cultish rituals and mythic longing) force them to confront if their love is salvation or suffocation. No spoilers, but the finale's merge is a visually stunning gut-punch, questioning whether true union means losing yourself. It's a lean 103-minute descent that prioritizes emotional stickiness over plot pyrotechnics.

Performances That Stick (Literally)

Dave Franco and Alison Brie are the beating (and blending) heart here—their real-marriage chemistry grounds the escalating absurdity, making Tim and Millie's bickering feel lived-in and their terror palpably human. Franco delivers his career-best turn as the insecure everyman, choking down horror with wide-eyed vulnerability, while Brie shines as the pragmatic partner whose composure cracks into raw fury and longing. Their dynamic sells the film's core: love as both balm and body-snatcher. Supporting bits from Damon Herriman as a creepy local add cultish flavor, but this is a two-hander showcase—Brie and Franco's rapport elevates the schlock into something sincerely unsettling.

A Fresh Twist on Body Horror Tropes

Shanks, known for Stargate Atlantis gigs, channels David Cronenberg's invasive intimacy (think The Fly's tragic merger) with a romantic bent, but infuses it with modern relational neuroses—age gaps, career pivots, the fear of "what's next?" It's less about external monsters and more internal ones, using the body horror as a metaphor for codependency's traps. Compared to recent genre fare like The Substance's vanity-fueled mutations, Together feels more couple-centric and less satirical, with a loopy humor that keeps the dread from overwhelming. The underground bell-church motif evokes buried secrets (and maybe faith's collapse), adding mythic layers without overexplaining.

Ratings and Critical Reception

Together boasts a strong 6.8/10 on IMDb (from 18,000 votes) and an impressive 92% on Rotten Tomatoes (critics, from 210 reviews), with audiences at 78%. Critics raved about its "emotionally sticky" blend of gnarly effects and heartfelt horror, with Variety calling it a "loony-tunes thriller with a Big Idea" and The Hollywood Reporter praising the leads as "terrific" in a "romantic nightmare." Metacritic's 75/100 echoes the "generally favorable" buzz, highlighting the "tactile effects" and dread-building score. Sundance midnight screening hype led to a $17M Neon deal, and it opened to $8.5M domestically—solid for indie horror. Critics clearly adored the ambitious fusion of scares and soul-searching (hence the high RT score), but my 6/10 tempers that with the pacing dips and overreliance on jumps—it's smart, but not scary enough to transcend the slow burns.

A Minor Critique

The opening mystery tantalizes but unravels too vaguely, and those abrupt scares disrupt the creeping tension. The relational themes shine, but some domestic scenes meander, testing patience amid the 103-minute runtime.

A Gnarly Gem for Horror-Romance Fans

Together (2025) is a bold, body-melding debut that turns love into literal horror, with Brie and Franco's chemistry making the grotesque feel achingly real. It's got mythic meat, memorable effects, and a message on soulmate symbiosis that'll linger—but the boredom patches and cheap jolts keep it from greatness. At 6/10, it's worth one uneasy watch if you're into thoughtful terrors like The Fly or relational chills like It Follows. Skip if jumps aren't your jam; otherwise, brace for the stickiness.

What did you think of Together? Did the body horror hit home, or was it too couple-y for comfort? Drop your thoughts in the comments, and suggest a film for my next review—craving more genre bends or straight scares? If you enjoyed this, like, follow, and share to keep the convo going. Thanks for reading—see you at the movies!