HE STORY – Two young men strike up an unlikely friendship after meeting in a support group for twinless twins.
THE CAST – Dylan O’Brien, James Sweeney, Aisling Franciosi, Lauren Graham, Tasha Smith, Chris Perfetti, François Arnaud, Susan Park & Cree Cicchino
THE TEAM – James Sweeney (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 100 Minutes
James Sweeney’s “Twinless” begins with a stark, grim development. We don’t witness it directly, but we hear tragedy occur. Before there’s even a moment to process, the film whisks us away to a funeral where Roman (Dylan O’Brien) is grieving the loss of his twin brother, Rocky (also Dylan O’Brien). All of a sudden, the somber tone one might be beginning to embrace transforms into something much stranger. “Twinless” quickly indulges itself with a dose of dark comedy. Though it seems odd, it’s all part of Sweeney’s plan. The writer/director/actor commits his latest film to being one of tonal whiplash. More often than not, it’s for good reason. What happens when half of something or someone is no longer part of a whole? It requires a very particular type of emotional processing. You’re not just mourning the loss of an external force but also the fundamental feeling that something within yourself has been locked away permanently. As Roman, O’Brien perfectly encapsulates such loss. And from channeling that loss, we get to witness the best performance of O’Brien’s career.
As Roman finds himself deep in the throes of grief, we witness his emotions play out in real-time. There’s anger, sleeplessness wracked with thoughts of guilt, and an inability to comprehend and reckon with the darkly comedic ironies of life thrown our way. From the moment he’s on screen, you just want to hold Roman and let him know things will eventually be okay. O’Brien plays Roman in a way that feels akin to a lost puppy. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that centers the entirety of “Twinless” as a film about how all of us are just barely able to keep it together in life. It’s also where the threads of comedy make their way into the film. One might not think that a film about how two individuals are coping with the death of a twin is the most obvious example of some genuinely laugh-out-loud sequences. And yet, Sweeney finds a way to fit into a particular style of comedic sensibilities without sacrificing the dramatic core from which it all stems.
For example, the initial meeting between Roman and Dennis (Sweeney) takes place in a support group for grieving twins who have lost their other half. When least expected, the film breaks out into a full comedy routine from the counselor in charge. It’s quite shocking, leaving the viewer to wonder: “If this counselor seems unable to keep it together, what chance does any of the rest of the group have?” It’s here that Roman and Dennis find that chance in one another. In an adorable and silly first meeting, the odd humor continues, but it begins to reveal the larger ideas Sweeney is utilizing it for. This humor is two-fold. In some cases, it’s practically a cry for help. In others, it’s a clear representation of the fundamental ways in which people can find themselves completely adrift in the throes of grief. It’s being lost in a dark, crowded room, and all we can hope for is to find somebody who can take our hand and guide us outside to where the light may still be shining. In O’Brien’s performance, both of these facets come together to form an instantly lovable character.
As Roman and Dennis begin to lean on one another more and more for support, Sweeney, as a writer/director, upends any expectations his audience might have about “Twinless.” With an always exciting late title card drop, the narrative is taken to unreal and exciting places. That journey will not be spoiled here, but again, it bolsters the idea that Sweeney is using his style of comedy for something deeper than shallow laughs. It’s a coping mechanism used to face a world that’s cruel and confusing. At one point in the film, Roman tells Dennis in response to his deep emotional pain, “If you’re going to hell, keep going.” We come to learn in time that even this scene has a bit of a sincere, comedic spin. But at this moment, in particular, Sweeney displays very assured ideas as a filmmaker. Dennis offers Roman the opportunity to speak to him as if he were Rocky. O’Brien turns that into an outstanding monologue practically addressed directly to the camera, capturing an honest and raw range of emotions. Sweeney never cuts, opting instead for a slow zoom that provides O’Brien, and in turn Roman, the opportunity to lay all his cards out on the table. It’s wholly moving and an incredible gift from a filmmaker to a performer.
Another highlight of Sweeney’s direction in “Twinless” comes in the form of employing split-screen and split diopters. So rarely seen nowadays, he handles the task in a way that’s not just formally smart but also emotionally effective. Sweeney is smartly not relying on style over substance, but rather, is blending the two to make each half more potent and thrilling for an audience. With regards to the former technique, its usage culminates in a moment that signals how “Twinless” can form these very genuine emotional moments that sneak up on a viewer. Sweeney described this film as a “2000s bromance comedy meets grief drama.” In both regards, it excels. And I can’t help but think of the perfectly placed HAIM song, “Leaning On You,” as being a perfect distillation of all the ideas floating around in “Twinless.” To slightly paraphrase the lyrics, it can take a lot out of us to not fall into an endless downward spiral. All we can do is hope that, even when we think it impossible to ever find a sense of peace or happiness again, another person will be there to remind us that the holes in our hearts and souls can be filled once more. It simply takes time.
