Some of us have always known Dylan O’Brien possesses a special x-factor. Since he burst onto the scene in MTV’s hit series Teen Wolf (2011), O’Brien has demonstrated incredible charisma and presence. Since then, he’s accumulated a diverse resume, consistently proving himself reliable in whatever context he’s thrown into. However, no project has fully allowed O’Brien to fully tap into his star power.
Until now.
Twinless (2025) is an odd little gem about Roman (O’Brien), a man grieving the loss of his twin brother Rocky (also played by O’Brien). While the two drifted during their adulthood, Roman struggles with the idea of life without his other half. In an attempt to rebuild, he attends a twin bereavement support group and meets Dennis (played by writer-director James Sweeney), an odd man who couldn’t be more opposite to Roman. Despite their differences, they form a fast and close-knit friendship.
Sweeney’s distinct voice coats the entire screenplay with a macabre sense of humor that never detracts from the melancholia emanating throughout the film. His jokes are never there for simple shock value; they’re disarming but witty and tonally consistent. Meanwhile, his emotional beats are never undercut by the humor. Sweeney allows his audience to sit in the uncomfortable pain as his characters wade through their collective grief.
This oscillation between sadness and silliness allows O’Brien to stretch himself as an actor. Roman is self-described as being “not the brightest tool in the box,” generating a lot of great moments for O’Brien to nail the dark humor. Simultaneously, when Roman fully feels the weight of his grief, we witness an actor unafraid to break himself open with stunning vulnerability. And somehow, melancholia aside, O’Brien still manages to be utterly charming.
We spend very little time with Rocky, but O’Brien arrives with the character fully formed and fleshed out—an easy, breezy, witty guy who kind of floats above it all. In spite of the limited time, we know Rocky so well, and, much like Roman, we miss him terribly when he’s gone.
Dennis is energetically the polar opposite of Roman. Sweeney infuses Dennis with a rigidity that permeates every social situation he finds himself in. His lack of social skills not only generates a lot of the beautifully jarring comedy but also leaves the audience wondering if Dennis’ loneliness is a cage of his own design. It’s baffling as to why these two are so drawn to each other, but Sweeney and O’Brien play with the oddball dynamic flawlessly.
As director, Sweeney executes some exciting visual choices that allow this disconnect to flourish, including one of the best uses of a split screen in recent memory. The choice is so out of pocket yet meshes with the tone Sweeney has painstakingly crafted–I chuckled in awe. The choices are simple yet feel audacious and enhance the oddball feel of the overall piece. While Sweeney is lovely as a performer in the film, his artistry behind the camera left me most excited and wanting more.
Twinless is a meditation on grief and loneliness. Our characters mourn the people who made them feel seen and wonder if they can carry on without that person and their understanding. The film takes this one step further, however, and showcases how the desire to quiet that loneliness can become all-consuming.
As mentioned earlier, Sweeney makes you wonder if Dennis’ loneliness is really his own doing. He becomes so hyper-fixated on Roman as the one person who soothes his loneliness, that he repeatedly ignores and is rude to others around him who present a chance at companionship as if they threaten his friendship. Any other potential person who takes away Roman’s attention is a threat.
Another facet of Roman and Dennis’ loneliness comes from their expectations of who they should be versus who they actually are. Roman grieves his brother and the fact that he isn’t “the good twin.” He can never quite reach the lofty heights Rocky seemed to occupy, especially in the eyes of his mother (Lauren Graham). Meanwhile, Dennis twists himself into knots trying to be the version of himself he thinks people want. In the rare moments where he’s not rude to others, he goes to great (and almost inappropriate) lengths to know the people in his sphere which ultimately puts them off.
Twinless presents a story about grief that asks audiences to examine loneliness as a complicated beast. When we lose the people who truly understand us, it leaves us unmoored and wondering who we are without them. In turn, we can retreat into ourselves and drift or we can use the space to plant new seeds and heal.
Twinless ultimately is a breath of fresh air. It’s a silly, goofy Sundance darling packed with delightful twists that will keep audiences entertained while brilliantly unpacking heavier themes in a culture rife with trauma. Twinless is quiet, yet bold and my hope is that it’s embraced beyond a couple of leaked gifs because it feels like a movie we need right now. It doesn’t have the answers, nor is it interested in giving them. However, it does showcase a kooky path to navigating loss and grief, highlighting how our connections inform us of what we need or can release.
Review Courtesy of Adam Patla
Image Courtesy of Republic Pictures via Sundance Film Festival