From Too Much and Materialists to The Summer I Turned Pretty Season 3, 2025 has continued to spoil us with an entertaining parade of romantic releases. Amidst this wave of charming main characters and love-triangle mayhem, I never thought one of the most profound romances I experienced this year would come from the horror genre, but Together proved me wrong.
Now, before my anti-horror-movie-goers scroll away—bear with me for a second. When I first saw the trailer for Alison Brie and Dave Franco’s new body horror, Together, I admit—I was a little anxious. After too many sleepless nights, courtesy of films like Insidious and Sinister in my youth, I wasn’t so sure I could stomach it. But when I finally decided to brave the theater this past weekend, it wasn’t the gore or jump-scares (though, yes, both are fabulously executed) that made me so glad I bought the ticket. It was the film’s ability to untangle the relationship questions that I was never able to articulate.
As someone who has been with their partner for almost a decade, I’d say I was curious—maybe even hungry—to see what this story would say about something I wrestle with more often than I’d like to admit: codependency. Together proved not only to be a gorgeous film—tolerable for even the most sensitive of stomachs—but I left the theater with lessons on the relationship between intimacy and identity that are sure to stick with me.
What is Together about?
Starring real-life married couple Alison Brie and Dave Franco, the story follows Millie (Brie), a meticulous, Type-A educator, who takes a new teaching job in the countryside, and her partner Tim (Franco), a struggling musician, who has pressed pause on his aspiring career to support Millie’s job and their shared life together. Between these two characters hangs an unspoken tension over what they want for themselves and each other. When Millie and Tim officially move into their new country abode, all of these anxieties quickly begin to unravel in a body-altering nightmare that tests their love and identities.
My review of Together
It’s a horror, that’s also a comedy, that’s also a romance
Together’s skin-crawling, thrill-ride reaches a balance between something utterly human and something, well, horrifyingly not. It travels years beyond your favorite rom-coms‘ happily-ever-afters to confront the painful realities that come with long-term relationships. Yes, it’s drenched in gorgeous, haunting visuals that make for a stunning horror movie—but at times, it feels strangely more romantic than frightening. It’s laced with subtle humor and a profound emotional maturity that made me feel more enlightened than I was terrified when leaving the theater (outside of the squelching sound design, that is). It’s my favorite kind of cinematic experience—the one that gets under your skin long after the credits fade—and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.
It showed the truly terrifying parts of love
Like every good horror movie, Together keeps you on the edge of your seat. You can’t watch every frame without anxiety, fearful of what horrifying “thing” might suddenly blur into the background. But for Millie and Tim, that eerie “thing” isn’t always a monster you can physically point to. Rather, something anyone in a long-term relationship will recognize all too well: codependency.
“It’s rare to find a film that can unearth something so deeply human in the midst of something so undeniably horrifying, but Together pulls it off seamlessly.”
Trying to hold onto your individuality while building a life with someone might be one of the hardest parts of love. But Together isn’t afraid to confront it. For Millie and Tim, intimacy is taken to the extreme as it literally fights to bind them together in every way. Existing separately, without any reliance on each other, feels impossible for them. And what this film made me realize is that, in truth, it kinda is.
You can still be yourself in a relationship, but that self will always be changed by the other person, whether you fight it or not. Resisting that connection and clinging to who you were before that relationship can evolve into its own kind of monster. One that quietly gnaws away at both your independence and connection until you’re left unrecognizable. What unsettled me most about Together wasn’t the flesh-twisting grotesqueries, but the quieter confrontations in between. It’s rare to find a film that can unearth something so deeply human in the midst of something so undeniably horrifying, but Together pulls it off seamlessly.
It made me reflect on my own relationship with codependency
I’ve been with my partner since high school, and it has given us a lot of rare and beautiful experiences together—from graduations and new jobs, to exploring new cities and even grieving together. But in sharing all of these moments, it can be hard to dissect exactly where I end, and we begin. But what I love so much about Together is how well this movie reflects on these harder truths—the ones I often forget because my partner and I are so used to each other, we can’t see beyond us.
After experiencing this film, I started to reflect more on what codependency looks like in my relationship. I realized that in acknowledging and even embracing the inevitability of being attached to someone else, we can begin to find ourselves again. When we stop resisting and accept that parts of ourselves will always be shaped by the person we choose to share our life with, we create space to see who we’ve become because of them, not despite them.
“Together is a crazy duel between love and individuality that will either make you love your partner more or break up with them after watching.”
When I think about who I was before I met my partner, it feels like a totally different person (granted, I was in high school—but still). And when I think about who I am now, I honestly don’t know who I’d be without my partner—not just in an aww, rom-com kind of way, but in a very real, foundational sense. Together made me realize that maybe that’s what love does. It molds your sense of self into someone else’s, until fighting to separate feels like leaving part of yourself behind. Maybe, the goal isn’t to fight this inevitable connection, but to recognize it as something oddly beautiful.
So, should you go see Together?
Together is a crazy duel between love and individuality that will either make you love your partner more or break up with them after watching. A risqué movie-night pick to pitch to your significant other—perhaps—but the film’s unflinching take on relationships makes for an insanely captivating and enlightening film. After watching, I couldn’t help but rant about this movie to my partner, and we ended up having a nice conversation about identity (ah, the power of cinema).
If you’re even slightly interested in dipping your toe into the horror genre, this film is the perfect opportunity to do just that. Alison Brie herself even said in a recent press interview that Together is the best “gateway horror” for those unfamiliar with the genre. From humor and romance to jump scares and stunning cinematography, there is something for every kind of movie-goer to enjoy. Because yes, it is a horror movie, but also, no, it’s not. Together is a romance in its rawest, most vulnerable form. It asks the viewer to consider if we should be afraid of intimacy, if we should avoid it, or if we should completely lose ourselves in it. It catches you off guard in the best way and makes for an incredible theater-going experience.
Madigan Will, Assistant Editor
As an Assistant Editor for The Everygirl, Madigan writes and edits content for every topic under the digital media sun. As the oldest of four siblings, she enjoys utilizing her big sister persona to connect and inspire readers—helping them discover new ways to maximize their everyday.
