Aussie body horror takes attachment issues to a whole new level

The Advertiser

4 days ago

We all know couples who seem clingy and co-dependent, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. Australian writer-director Michael Shanks takes this to extremes in his grossly vivid debut.
Tim and Millie (real-life spouses Dave Franco and Alison Brie) are almost 10 years into their relationship and things are a little strained. Do they still love each other or are they just used to each other, in a state of inertia?
Long-simmering tensions break out after a going-away party where her public proposal blindsides him and doesn't elicit the hoped-for response.
Nevertheless, they move together to a country town where Millie will take up a good teaching job. Tim is, in his 30s, still pursuing a music career without much luck. He can't drive so she will have to take him to the railway station to get to gigs. It doesn't seem the most satisfactory situation but they are making a go of it. They're sticking together - and they will soon be doing that in ways they could never have imagined.
One day, on a hike, they fall into an underground cave that seems like it was some kind of structure - there are bells - and as it's pouring rain they decide to wait out the storm. Tim gets thirsty and decides to drink some water from a pool. This would be a stupid idea at the best of times but he gets something much more painful than a bout of vomiting and/or the runs. And longer lasting.
When Tim and Millie wake up, their bare legs are literally stuck together. Separating themselves is like pulling off a particularly nasty Band-Aid. They shrug it off - he guesses it might be mildew - but things are about to get even weirder, very soon.
Tim experiences episodes where he is irresistibly drawn to make physical contact with Millie, and not in a good way: it's non-consensual for both of them and terrifying.
They find out from Jamie (Damon Herriman) a neighbour who's a colleague of Millie, that the cave contains the remains of a fringe church that (literally) collapsed, but that doesn't tell them much about what's happening, and their attachment issues are only getting worse.
This is body horror - is it ever - but not in the cold, clinical way David Cronenberg tends to do it. Compared to most of the Canadian filmmaker's misfits and weirdos, Tim and Millie are relatably human and Franco and Brie make you care about what happens to them. The feelings seem real and while the metaphoric element isn't terribly subtle, it works, giving the film some substance.
There are some moments where the horror is mixed with very dark comedy, like a scene in a school toilet where Tim and Millie can't fight the compulsion to have sex, with somewhat predictable - and graphic - results. Apparently for one particularly, shall we say, intimate shot Shanks was able to procure prosthetic parts through his own longtime partner, who worked for a sex toy business. This is not a film for the squeamish, but you've probably guessed that by now. But Shanks also shows restraint at certain moments: sometimes what you don't see is worse than what you do.
The film wasn't made for a huge budget - horror movies produced at a modest cost have long been a reliable way of making money - but the production values are good and, crucially, the special effects are grotesquely convincing.
Together was shot in Australia are there are a few familiar faces who pop up but apart from an effective turn by Herriman, Franco and Brie are almost the whole show. Fortunately the couple, who are frequent co-stars, are up to the challenge.
The climax - in which a Spice Girls song plays a key part - works and the coda is eerily restrained. This is another in the line of recent Australian horror movies well worth seeing.
We all know couples who seem clingy and co-dependent, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. Australian writer-director Michael Shanks takes this to extremes in his grossly vivid debut.
Tim and Millie (real-life spouses Dave Franco and Alison Brie) are almost 10 years into their relationship and things are a little strained. Do they still love each other or are they just used to each other, in a state of inertia?
Long-simmering tensions break out after a going-away party where her public proposal blindsides him and doesn't elicit the hoped-for response.
Nevertheless, they move together to a country town where Millie will take up a good teaching job. Tim is, in his 30s, still pursuing a music career without much luck. He can't drive so she will have to take him to the railway station to get to gigs. It doesn't seem the most satisfactory situation but they are making a go of it. They're sticking together - and they will soon be doing that in ways they could never have imagined.
One day, on a hike, they fall into an underground cave that seems like it was some kind of structure - there are bells - and as it's pouring rain they decide to wait out the storm. Tim gets thirsty and decides to drink some water from a pool. This would be a stupid idea at the best of times but he gets something much more painful than a bout of vomiting and/or the runs. And longer lasting.
When Tim and Millie wake up, their bare legs are literally stuck together. Separating themselves is like pulling off a particularly nasty Band-Aid. They shrug it off - he guesses it might be mildew - but things are about to get even weirder, very soon.
Tim experiences episodes where he is irresistibly drawn to make physical contact with Millie, and not in a good way: it's non-consensual for both of them and terrifying.
They find out from Jamie (Damon Herriman) a neighbour who's a colleague of Millie, that the cave contains the remains of a fringe church that (literally) collapsed, but that doesn't tell them much about what's happening, and their attachment issues are only getting worse.
This is body horror - is it ever - but not in the cold, clinical way David Cronenberg tends to do it. Compared to most of the Canadian filmmaker's misfits and weirdos, Tim and Millie are relatably human and Franco and Brie make you care about what happens to them. The feelings seem real and while the metaphoric element isn't terribly subtle, it works, giving the film some substance.
There are some moments where the horror is mixed with very dark comedy, like a scene in a school toilet where Tim and Millie can't fight the compulsion to have sex, with somewhat predictable - and graphic - results. Apparently for one particularly, shall we say, intimate shot Shanks was able to procure prosthetic parts through his own longtime partner, who worked for a sex toy business. This is not a film for the squeamish, but you've probably guessed that by now. But Shanks also shows restraint at certain moments: sometimes what you don't see is worse than what you do.
The film wasn't made for a huge budget - horror movies produced at a modest cost have long been a reliable way of making money - but the production values are good and, crucially, the special effects are grotesquely convincing.
Together was shot in Australia are there are a few familiar faces who pop up but apart from an effective turn by Herriman, Franco and Brie are almost the whole show. Fortunately the couple, who are frequent co-stars, are up to the challenge.
The climax - in which a Spice Girls song plays a key part - works and the coda is eerily restrained. This is another in the line of recent Australian horror movies well worth seeing.
We all know couples who seem clingy and co-dependent, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. Australian writer-director Michael Shanks takes this to extremes in his grossly vivid debut.
Tim and Millie (real-life spouses Dave Franco and Alison Brie) are almost 10 years into their relationship and things are a little strained. Do they still love each other or are they just used to each other, in a state of inertia?
Long-simmering tensions break out after a going-away party where her public proposal blindsides him and doesn't elicit the hoped-for response.
Nevertheless, they move together to a country town where Millie will take up a good teaching job. Tim is, in his 30s, still pursuing a music career without much luck. He can't drive so she will have to take him to the railway station to get to gigs. It doesn't seem the most satisfactory situation but they are making a go of it. They're sticking together - and they will soon be doing that in ways they could never have imagined.
One day, on a hike, they fall into an underground cave that seems like it was some kind of structure - there are bells - and as it's pouring rain they decide to wait out the storm. Tim gets thirsty and decides to drink some water from a pool. This would be a stupid idea at the best of times but he gets something much more painful than a bout of vomiting and/or the runs. And longer lasting.
When Tim and Millie wake up, their bare legs are literally stuck together. Separating themselves is like pulling off a particularly nasty Band-Aid. They shrug it off - he guesses it might be mildew - but things are about to get even weirder, very soon.
Tim experiences episodes where he is irresistibly drawn to make physical contact with Millie, and not in a good way: it's non-consensual for both of them and terrifying.
They find out from Jamie (Damon Herriman) a neighbour who's a colleague of Millie, that the cave contains the remains of a fringe church that (literally) collapsed, but that doesn't tell them much about what's happening, and their attachment issues are only getting worse.
This is body horror - is it ever - but not in the cold, clinical way David Cronenberg tends to do it. Compared to most of the Canadian filmmaker's misfits and weirdos, Tim and Millie are relatably human and Franco and Brie make you care about what happens to them. The feelings seem real and while the metaphoric element isn't terribly subtle, it works, giving the film some substance.
There are some moments where the horror is mixed with very dark comedy, like a scene in a school toilet where Tim and Millie can't fight the compulsion to have sex, with somewhat predictable - and graphic - results. Apparently for one particularly, shall we say, intimate shot Shanks was able to procure prosthetic parts through his own longtime partner, who worked for a sex toy business. This is not a film for the squeamish, but you've probably guessed that by now. But Shanks also shows restraint at certain moments: sometimes what you don't see is worse than what you do.
The film wasn't made for a huge budget - horror movies produced at a modest cost have long been a reliable way of making money - but the production values are good and, crucially, the special effects are grotesquely convincing.
Together was shot in Australia are there are a few familiar faces who pop up but apart from an effective turn by Herriman, Franco and Brie are almost the whole show. Fortunately the couple, who are frequent co-stars, are up to the challenge.
The climax - in which a Spice Girls song plays a key part - works and the coda is eerily restrained. This is another in the line of recent Australian horror movies well worth seeing.
We all know couples who seem clingy and co-dependent, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. Australian writer-director Michael Shanks takes this to extremes in his grossly vivid debut.
Tim and Millie (real-life spouses Dave Franco and Alison Brie) are almost 10 years into their relationship and things are a little strained. Do they still love each other or are they just used to each other, in a state of inertia?
Long-simmering tensions break out after a going-away party where her public proposal blindsides him and doesn't elicit the hoped-for response.
Nevertheless, they move together to a country town where Millie will take up a good teaching job. Tim is, in his 30s, still pursuing a music career without much luck. He can't drive so she will have to take him to the railway station to get to gigs. It doesn't seem the most satisfactory situation but they are making a go of it. They're sticking together - and they will soon be doing that in ways they could never have imagined.
One day, on a hike, they fall into an underground cave that seems like it was some kind of structure - there are bells - and as it's pouring rain they decide to wait out the storm. Tim gets thirsty and decides to drink some water from a pool. This would be a stupid idea at the best of times but he gets something much more painful than a bout of vomiting and/or the runs. And longer lasting.
When Tim and Millie wake up, their bare legs are literally stuck together. Separating themselves is like pulling off a particularly nasty Band-Aid. They shrug it off - he guesses it might be mildew - but things are about to get even weirder, very soon.
Tim experiences episodes where he is irresistibly drawn to make physical contact with Millie, and not in a good way: it's non-consensual for both of them and terrifying.
They find out from Jamie (Damon Herriman) a neighbour who's a colleague of Millie, that the cave contains the remains of a fringe church that (literally) collapsed, but that doesn't tell them much about what's happening, and their attachment issues are only getting worse.
This is body horror - is it ever - but not in the cold, clinical way David Cronenberg tends to do it. Compared to most of the Canadian filmmaker's misfits and weirdos, Tim and Millie are relatably human and Franco and Brie make you care about what happens to them. The feelings seem real and while the metaphoric element isn't terribly subtle, it works, giving the film some substance.
There are some moments where the horror is mixed with very dark comedy, like a scene in a school toilet where Tim and Millie can't fight the compulsion to have sex, with somewhat predictable - and graphic - results. Apparently for one particularly, shall we say, intimate shot Shanks was able to procure prosthetic parts through his own longtime partner, who worked for a sex toy business. This is not a film for the squeamish, but you've probably guessed that by now. But Shanks also shows restraint at certain moments: sometimes what you don't see is worse than what you do.
The film wasn't made for a huge budget - horror movies produced at a modest cost have long been a reliable way of making money - but the production values are good and, crucially, the special effects are grotesquely convincing.
Together was shot in Australia are there are a few familiar faces who pop up but apart from an effective turn by Herriman, Franco and Brie are almost the whole show. Fortunately the couple, who are frequent co-stars, are up to the challenge.
The climax - in which a Spice Girls song plays a key part - works and the coda is eerily restrained. This is another in the line of recent Australian horror movies well worth seeing.