Title: Together
Genre: Horror
Release Date: July 30, 2025
Platform: Theaters
Star Rating: 4/5
By Karl Simpson Jr.
“It’s more disturbing than outright scary, more emotional than explosive.”
There’s something to be said for a film that doesn’t try too hard to shock you, but still manages to draw you in. Together isn’t loud or flashy. It moves with quiet confidence, letting mood and atmosphere do the heavy lifting. It didn’t blow me away, but it kept me hooked from beginning to end. The tension worked, the mystery kept me curious, and the performances felt real. It’s not perfect, but it’s a film that knows what it wants to be, and for the most part, it gets there.
The film centers on a couple who move to the countryside, hoping for a reset. Instead, the couple gets a slow unraveling of their relationship and themselves. At first, everything feels grounded. Their connection isn’t broken, but it’s not thriving either. The intimacy is gone. They lean on each other out of habit—he cooks, she drives—but it’s more routine than love. Every interaction carries this unspoken question: are they still together because they want to be, or because they don’t know how not to be?
And then the film takes a turn. Without giving too much away, the story leans into body horror in a way that feels less about shock and more about metaphor. It digs into what happens when two people blur together emotionally, physically, and spiritually, and how pulling apart can hurt more than staying fused. It’s disturbing, but there’s also a strange beauty to it. The horror isn’t just in what you see on screen; it’s in the slow erosion of identity, the way in which love can twist into dependence, and how survival sometimes feels at odds with connection.
What makes Together stick is its mood. It’s not built on jump scares or relentless terror. Instead, it creeps under your skin. There’s a quiet unease running through every scene, and when the film decides to lean into horror, it doesn’t hold back. Some of the imagery is genuinely haunting and sharp enough to stick with you after the fact. At the same time, the story threads in humor here and there. Nothing groundbreaking, but it works. Those lighter beats really help cut through the heaviness, keeping the film from sinking completely into its own weight.
Dave Franco and Alison Brie are the glue here. Their dynamic feels worn-in, familiar, a little frayed but believable. They capture that sense of history couples carry: the shorthand, the messiness, the quiet dependence. It makes the emotional unraveling harder because you buy into who they are together. That realism grounds the film when the surreal elements start creeping in.
But here’s the thing: the film leans so heavily on dream logic that it sometimes loses its footing. Surreal storytelling can really be powerful, but it has to keep at least one foot in reality. Together doesn’t always do that. Characters make choices that don’t track, events happen with very little consequence, and the world around them feels more sketched than lived in. It’s not really enough to sink the movie, but it does chip away at the immersion. At times, you can feel the filmmakers asking you to “go with it,” and sometimes, that’s a more challenging ask than it should be.
All in all, Together is a solid, unsettling watch. It doesn’t reinvent the genre but delivers an intriguing mystery, haunting imagery, and performances that give the story real weight. It’s more disturbing than outright scary, more emotional than explosive. And while it drifts too far into abstraction at times, the film lingers, quietly crawling under your skin, asking questions about love, dependence, and identity that don’t have easy answers.
