Together— For Better, for Worse…Till Flesh Do Us Part

Together

★ ★ ★ ★

Together is the latest in the trend of ‘body horror’ films in which real world fears manifest in some sort of physical disfigurement—or worse. Last year’s The Substance showed us the cruel nature of Hollywood’s reliance upon external beauty and the depths a woman will go to stay attractive and relevant. The film became more disgusting as she became more desperate.

Here, body horror manifests from another primal fear—that of being alone. It’s about a romantic relationship knotted so tightly that separation feels impossible. One person is trying to save the relationship, while the other becomes more distant, delivering a natural dramatic tension between them. Many audience members will be able to relate.

Alison Brie as Millie and Dave Franco as Tim
© 2025 NEON

Tim (Dave Franco) and Millie (Alison Brie) have been in a relationship for several years. They live together in the city, aren’t yet married and are planning a move to the countryside where they hope new scenery will reinvigorate their relationship. The night before they move, they have a going-away party with their closest friends. We can already tell there’s tension between them. Millie wants Tim to engage with their friends, but he acts like he’d rather be anywhere else.

This move to the country is both Millie’s attempt to connect more deeply with Tim and an opportunity for her to teach at a better school. Meanwhile, Tim has back-burnered his music career, working on an album he plans to release independently. His friends want him to join them on a gig they’re going to play a few days after the move. It’s sponsored by a major label and could reignite his career. The move to the country is only two hours away from the city, so Tim agrees to play the show with his friends.

Tim and Millie try to make the best of their new life and take a hike together, exploring their new surroundings. On a nearby trail, Tim spots a strange path strung with rusted bells. Curiosity wins out, and soon they’re lost, soaked, and trapped in a cavern overnight. When Tim fills his bottle from a stagnant pool despite Millie’s warning, it becomes the moment his need for independence overrides her caution—a choice whose slow, invasive consequences neither can escape.

Dave Franco as Tim and Alison Brie as Millie
© 2025 NEON

This represents how one decision a partner makes can impact the well-being of the relationship. Tim takes a drink from the water in the cave against Millie’s mild insistence that it’s not a good idea. This seemingly innocent act slowly creeps into their lives. It’s not that Tim did anything wrong, but the effects will impact them both.

As the film goes on, their bodies will try to stick together—literally—subtle at first and eventually will conjoin, much like Siamese twins. There’s an unsettling scene where their hands press together until skin fuses with a damp, stretching pull, knuckles warping as bone grinds and reknits into a single, pulsing arm. As you can imagine, it escalates from there.

Body horror preys on our deepest fears, turning them into flesh and bone. These films often serve as a metaphoric stark warning. If The Fly warned us about reckless scientific ambition, Together warns us about emotional enmeshment, taken to grotesque extremes.

The horrific things that happen to Tim and Millie make sense in the film’s story and character development. Its dark, disturbing tone is occasionally alleviated with well-placed scenes that give us an insight as to what may have made their relationship work in the first place.

Alison Brie as Millie
© 2025 NEON

Together never tells you what to think. You’ll decide for yourself whether Tim and Millie’s bond is worth saving—or severing before it destroys them.

Tim may have dipped his bottle into shallow water, but the film’s themes run deep, giving us something horror films don’t often do well—a reason to look within and analyze whether our own relationships are healthy. Together dares us to take an uncomfortable, disturbing look at the ugliest angles of relationships without telling us what or how to think. It’s the horror equivalent of the Rorschach inkblot test asking us, “How does this make you feel?”

Quite disturbed yet utterly entertained, it turns out.