Jonny Numb

Together establishes its tone in the opening scene, wherein two hunting dogs, after lapping up water in a mysterious underground well in the middle of the woods, undergo a transformation – of which we only see a split second – akin to that classic sequence with the sled dogs in John Carpenter’s The Thing.

What may surprise, however, is how writer-director Michael Shanks proceeds with a deliberateness that verges on sadistic teasing for the remainder of the run time.

He could’ve taken a bombastic Slither approach to the plot (not that there’s anything wrong with that), doubling down on a gooey mix of practical and computer-generated effects, but instead parcels out the shocks and at-times cringeworthy body horror for something more contemplative…affectionate, even.

Huh? Affectionate, how?

Well, leading with a reference to The Thing shows the filmmaker is unafraid to display his influences (which range from The Exorcist to Evil Dead to H.R. Giger to Asian horror and even mumblecore), and while Shanks playfully toys with overly familiar genre tropes, he transforms them into something fresh, seen through new eyes.

Imagine Ari Aster without the overt self-consciousness and unearned sense of self-importance.

That said, Together is certainly overt in its genre intentions, but grounds them in a palpable reality that makes the fantastical, body-horror shocks resonate with greater effect (and, sometimes, unexpected humor) further down the line.

Tim (Dave Franco) and Millie (Alison Brie) are a young – but not quite young enough – couple who are introduced at a gathering of mutual friends, wherein they announce their future plans. After Millie pseudo-proposes to Tim, to the latter’s chagrin, the cracks in their relationship start to show. Tim is hung up on dreams of being a successful, touring musician; whereas Millie has accepted a teaching position in a small-town school district, looking to settle into adult responsibility. It’s only a matter of time before these two find themselves drinking from the same well as the ill-fated pups from the opening scene.

Yes, the title is sneaky – as these two characters, divided by their wants and desires, find themselves literally unable to “escape” each other. Such can be said for the metaphysical power of relationships, I suppose. My long-term partner has mentioned the circadian rhythm and how spending extended time with a person can influence health factors and even mortality. That makes the progression of Together interesting on a level that has nothing to do with the more explicit horror elements.

Furthermore, the fact that Franco and Brie are a real-life couple lends a certain verisimilitude to the absurdist proceedings – like Cruise and Kidman in Eyes Wide Shut, this is an unconventional choice of project that is more risky and exciting than some sentimental, safe, and crowd-pleasing Sundance drama.

But while Kubrick’s icy touch made Eyes Wide Shut an awkwardly voyeuristic time at the multiplex back in 1999, Shanks taps into something tangible within his couple’s chemistry that attests, weirdly, to what I suspect is great harmony off-screen. To commit to some of the scenes in Together – from the dramatic to the psychological to the physical – attests to a level of trust in allowing each other to go to dark places and emerge out the other end intact and healthy. All while giving the genre a necessary evolutionary push.

If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.

4 out of 5 stars