
Addison Heimann refuses to be pigeonholed together with his sophomore characteristic, Contact Me, which made its world premiere at Sundance 2025. The maddeningly unique movie cements Heimann as a lo-fi, left-field visionary. Refusing to decide to a single style, the challenge proudly wears its zany Japanese influences on its sleeve. It’s a queer-millennial fantasia brimming with huge concepts about anxiousness, trauma, validation, and dependancy. Whereas the movie sometimes struggles to succeed in the purpose, its audacity and coronary heart compensate for this.Â
Within the movie, codependent finest buddies (Olivia Taylor Dudley and Jordan Gavaris) change into hooked on the heroin-like contact of an alien narcissist who could or is probably not attempting to take over the world. The plot is as weird because it sounds, mixing darkish humor, science fiction, and a heavy dose of existential dread into an unpredictable, effervescent stew. Whereas it might’ve been strategically safer for Heimann to comply with up Hypochondriac with a conventional horror movie, he as an alternative delivered one thing messy, ingenious, and unapologetically bizarre. Its heavy themes are tackled with a surrealist bent that typically borders on chaos, however even when the narrative meanders, the emotional core stays firmly intact.
At its core, Contact Me is outlined by its spectacular ensemble forged, whose chemistry is an anchor for the occasional listlessness of its script. Lou Taylor Pucci, Olivia Taylor Dudley, Jordan Gavaris, and Marlene Forte ship performances that always elevate Heimann’s unusual sci-fi story into one thing grander. Every actor brings a singular vitality to their position, and collectively, they create a mesmerizing, typically unhappy, typically attractive, dynamic. Because the movie’s central antagonist, Lou Taylor Pucci delivers an impressively bumbling and weird efficiency. Then there’s veteran actor Marlene Forte, who rounds out the ensemble with a commanding efficiency that all the time has the capability to steal a scene.
Olivia Taylor Dudley and Jordan Gavaris shine as twin leads, two buddies whose bond feels tender but in addition profoundly poisonous. The customarily-profound, even sacred, relationship between homosexual women and men is never handled with such respect and nuance, and Heimann’s strategy is each refreshing and poignant. This sacredness extends to the movie’s broader themes, significantly its exploration of discovering peace in your individual pores and skin. For queer people, it is a privilege that’s all too typically denied, and Contact Me is keenly conscious of that unhappy fact.
Contact Me is most compelling when it explores themes of millennial anxiousness. In an period the place millennial ennui is usually the butt of the joke, this movie provides a compassionate portrayal of what it means to grapple with self-worth in a world that appears intent on undermining it. Anxiousness is not only a subplot right here—it’s the story’s coronary heart.
Heimann makes probably the most of restricted assets, crafting a vibrant and alive world. The movie’s lo-fi aesthetic is a part of its attraction, including intimacy. Its influences from zany classic Japanese cinema are evident in its daring tonal shifts and playful visible type. Whereas this strategy could not resonate with everybody, it’s undeniably daring and indicative of a filmmaker unafraid to take dangers.
The best problem can be this movie’s best energy—its willingness to embrace the bizarre. Contact Me just isn’t a straightforward movie to categorize or outline, and its refusal to adapt to conventional narrative constructions could alienate some viewers. Heimann’s dedication to following his each impulse is admirable and infrequently spectacular. There’s loads of creativity right here, and it’s a surprise to see it unfiltered. Nonetheless, as a result of small scope of the movie and restricted assets, I feel it may have benefited from some honing and enhancing. It’s strongest in moments of intimate, tightly shot dialogue. Dudley’s prolonged opening monologue is quietly one of many boldest moments I’ve seen at Sundance all 12 months.
Whereas it can undoubtedly not be for everybody, Contact Me is a daring and ingenious watch that cements Addison Heimann as a essential new voice in cinema. For these keen to embrace this queer intergalactic lo-fi fantasia, it’s properly price taking the plunge. From its stellar performances to trustworthy depictions of millennial grief, you gained’t see a lot else prefer it this 12 months.
Abstract
‘Contact Me’ is a compelling exploration millennial anxiousness by means of a weird mix of sci-fi pop existentialism. Whereas its script has the tendency to meander, sturdy performances from a good ensemble maintain issues grounded.
Categorized:Information Critiques