Never underestimate the impact of the profoundly unpleasant in horror cinema. There is a lot of that in this stomach-churning debut from Michael Shanks: hair is swallowed; genitals are stretched; most distressingly for many viewers, animals are shown in states of violent distress (all computer-generated, of course). Some may view this as a bit cheap, but it takes real invention to make hardened critics squirm. This is a masterclass in eugh.
In the film’s further defence, one could not reasonably argue, as some have about the recent Weapons, that Together is “not about anything”. Indeed, the film’s core allegory is laid out so plainly it ceases to be subtext. Literally stuck (ahem) together in a body-horror meld, Alison Brie, as the overly perky Millie, and Dave Franco, as the slacker Tim, find their eyes drifting nervously towards a nearby power saw. “If we don’t split now it’s going to be much harder later,” Millie says. Get it?
Brie and Franco, romantically entwined in real life, lay the groundwork with opening scenes that find the couple preparing for a move from urban downtown to a remote house in the country (something you should never do in a horror flick).
The actors, working from a sly script by the director, do a fine job of creating archetypal annoyances. Millie is a little too controlling. Tim, still convinced his indie band will come off, has never fully escaped adolescence. It doesn’t require much attention to conclude she is keener on the move to Straw Dogs Gulch than he is.
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Once there, they take an ill-advised walk in the woods and tumble into what looks like a disused pagan temple. Soon the couple fall prey to licentious urges as their respective body tissues ooze independently towards each another.
Some will find the depictions misogynistic. Others will worry that the script is demeaning men. In truth, this twisty, shameless entertainment, which eventually descends into high horror comedy, is having fun with how the sexes are perceived rather than arguing that this is how they really are.
Brie and Franco, as husband and wife, surely appreciate that the presentation of romance as a poisonous affliction is meant as the snarkiest sort of prank. That gag just about sustains itself through Wagnerian levels of revulsion on the way to a brazen wah-wah punchline.
Horrible, silly, reprehensible, enormously good fun.
In cinemas from Friday, August 15th
