Sundance Review: Twinless Features Dylan O’Brien in an Unexpected, Dark Comedy

      Twinless opens like a classic Sundance film—serious and heavy, yet interspersed with unexpected humor. This aligns with the festival's reputation for coining the term “dramedy.” Here, we witness an offscreen car accident followed by a quick cut to a funeral. Roman (Dylan O’Brien) stands beside his mother (Lauren Graham), grieving as the casket of his gay identical twin brother, Rocky, is lowered into the earth. The atmosphere is somber—filled with tears, tissues, and a violinist playing “Danny Boy”—until an abrupt pause in the music creates an uncomfortable silence. This moment grants permission to laugh, highlighting the oddity of mourners approaching Roman to lament at his striking resemblance to the deceased.

      This melancholic, bewildering tone characterizes the first 20 minutes of James Sweeney’s dark comedy (or perhaps lighthearted drama). It soon becomes clear where the story is headed. Shortly after the funeral, Roman returns home to Portland and joins a bereavement group (led by a standup comedian hopeful played by Tasha Smith) for newly twinless individuals. There, he meets Dennis (Sweeney), a gay graphic designer who facilitates easy conversation, allowing Roman to discuss Rocky, his more experienced, well-traveled, extroverted brother. They go grocery shopping together, head to Seattle for hockey games, and explore the ways their twins were once so close yet grew distant.

      The duo exemplifies contrasts: Roman projects a tough exterior while concealing a sensitive, emotionally volatile side; Dennis is delicate, intellectual, pedantic, and slightly enigmatic. “I can’t make friends with a fork,” Roman quips. “I hate doing things alone,” Dennis confesses later. This marks the beginning of an odd-couple friendship. However, Sweeney introduces a late title card, shifting **Twinless** into something darker, deeper, and more poignant without losing the warmth established in its introduction. It wouldn't be fair to reveal subsequent plot developments, except to mention that Dennis may not be as random a meeting as it first seems, and there’s more to Rocky than just Roman’s recollections.

      A film like this can sometimes feel like three different narratives competing for attention. Its confident opening might lead to a psychological thriller that transitions clumsily into a relationship drama—causing potential friction. Yet Sweeney—who acts, directs, and wrote the script—skillfully blends genres in a seamless and believable manner. He has a keen sense of how to intertwine humor and grief, especially as more backstory unfolds and the film's elevated stakes alter the characters' perceptions.

      However, the success of the tonal shifts relies on an actor who can navigate them adeptly. Throughout his budding career, O’Brien hasn’t been afforded the kind of multi-layered role as he is here. He begins as the typical air-headed jock (complete with a lackluster haircut), but gradually reveals a more complex character—a warm-hearted friend, a repressed rageaholic, and a sensitive, depressed soul searching for his lost best friend. This doesn’t even account for his portrayal of Rocky in several flashback scenes, where he dons a thick mustache and adopts an effeminate voice, presenting him as taller, wiser, and occasionally meaner.

      O’Brien must convincingly depict someone who feels split in half, unable to piece himself together, yet only understood by another wandering soul missing their own other half. While he and Sweeney share great chemistry (and Aisling Franciosi excels as Roman’s unexpectedly insightful and kind-hearted girlfriend), Sweeney doesn’t depend solely on his characters to communicate everything about their fragmented lives. He is mindful of his blocking and incorporates creative techniques from cinematographer Greg Cotten, utilizing mirrors, boundaries, and reflective surfaces as claustrophobic, haunting visuals. At one juncture, Sweeney choreographs a split-screen party scene that could seem pretentious if not for the way it ultimately melds into a striking, solitary shot.

      These stylistic choices emphasize Sweeney's exploration of the divisive and deceptive methods of coping with grief and the ways individuals can still find fragments of themselves in others to offer forgiveness and restore a sense of wholeness. O’Brien grapples with this emotional tension in a memorable hotel room scene. Roman faces Dennis and pretends he is Rocky, burdening him with grievances regarding their relationship before transforming into an outpouring of self-critical anger and sorrow. “I don’t know how to be here without you,” he cries. Sweeney’s sensitive film presents some comforting inquiries in response. Is he really supposed to? And isn’t that acceptable?

      **Twinless** debuted at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

      Grade: B+