In Twinless, two young men meet in a support group for surviving halves of twin siblings and quickly develop a connection. Pretty good topic for a movie, right? Yet that setup is not quite what writer-director James Sweeney (Straight Up) has on his mind in his sophomore feature, which contains a surprise or three—so stop reading now if you’d like to go in blind.
Sweeney stars a young Portlander who spins a pretty outrageous lie in order to befriend the grieving twin brother of his deceased ex-lover—well, technically a one-night stand, but the kind so electric you convince yourself it was fate. Still with me? What Sweeney is really after are ideas of loneliness and dependency, and the lengths people will go to avoid being alone.
The thirty-five-year-old filmmaker’s darkly clever tale has a loaded setup and a gutsy narrative gamble; it’s funny, a little unnerving and, at times, quite sad. The film opens in Portland on grief-stricken Roman (O’Brien), whose identical twin Rocky (also O’Brien) has recently been killed. The funeral scenes draw a few uneasy exchanges as Rocky’s friends offer condolences to their dead friend’s identical brother (though confident Rocky was stylishly gay while insecure, straight Roman is more of a guarded tough guy). Roman also clashes with his well-meaning mother (Lauren Graham) over packing up Rocky’s place, making it’s clear he’s nowhere near ready to face his grief.
Enter Dennis (Sweeney), the kind of guy who is “nobody’s favorite,” an unsatisfied young professional who shares memories of his own dead identical twin brother to the group circle, catching Roman’s attention. The pair strike up a conversation and quickly become each other’s support systems, phoning late at night, socializing and becoming supermarket sidekicks. It’s a nice symmetry. Dennis’s sexuality intrigues Roman, who wasn’t close to his own gay brother. He also admits he’s not “the brightest tool in the shed” while counting on Dennis to gently correct his often misplaced phrasing, and in return shields his new friend by delivering a brutal beat down to a pack of gay bashers.
But the narrative hammer drops (or twists) when it’s revealed that Dennis isn’t on the up-and-up. About a third of the way into Twinless, we learn he had met Rocky, fallen hard and obsessed after one night of passionate sex and intimate truth telling—the kind of connection Dennis had always dreamed might finally find its way into his bed and heart. Then tragedy struck, as did a chance encounter with lookalike Roman, now an inseparable friendship. Could Roman somehow complete the other half that Rocky had been? And still there’s more, including a sharp turn by Aisling Franciosi (The Nightingale) as Dennis’ excitable colleague, whose growing importance to Roman comes at a painful cost. As Roman begins to glimpse some light at the end of the tunnel, Dennis sinks further into self-doubt.
Like this year’s similarly uncomfortable buddy comedy Friendship, Sweeney’s picture is propelled by a dark, anxious engine. His handling of the picture’s tense central friendship keeps raising the stakes, leaving us to wonder when, if ever, will the truth surface. The ruse, and who Dennis has come to be through it (“the version I like the most”) makes confession nearly impossible.
Sweeney and O’Brien convincingly excavate their characters’ long-held insecurities; neither has ever felt special enough to be truly loved. And since Sweeney the writer frees his characters from tidy plot dictates, both young men are given permission to hint at their respective dark sides—some may reductively find one a schemer and the other a brute—but the movie keeps us guessing. What, exactly, is Dennis’ agenda? Is his intention harmless or predatory? Can his romantic obsession somehow be visited on his lovers’ brother without courting disaster?
All of this works because Sweeney somehow makes actions that are borderline sociopathic seem sensitive—and it helps that he plays complicated Dennis with low-esteem introspection. Dennis clearly has issues and is a liar by omission, manipulator and very hurt himself. And for his part, Roman has deep anger issues, bitterly confronting his mother in one moment while reacting violently and dismissive in others.
In Rocky/Roman, Sweeney hands O’Brien a formidable challenge. If the actor’s Rocky sometimes tips too easily into stereotypical flamboyance, his Roman is a clenched ball of quiet nerves and need. The film’s most powerful moment arrives in a sterile motel room, when Dennis encourages Roman to speak to him as if to his dead brother. The way O’Brien cracks Roman’s shell in a teary moment of opening ranks among the year’s finest acting. In just a few minutes, O’Brien goes from fury to regret to release, and both his monologue as written and commitment to it are rich and affecting.
One of Twinless’ real strengths is how it balances both men’s perspectives. In a clever sequence, Sweeney uses split-screen at a party, tracking separate romantic prospects before landing on a moment that plays, depending upon which side of the screen you may be watching, as hopeful or heartbreaking. It’s a universal pang for any gay man who’s ever felt longing, or possessiveness toward an unattainable straight friend.
Twinless raises more questions than it resolves. Sweeney closes on a hopeful note suggesting the men might find their way back to some connection, but refuses to pretend their deeper wounds can be easily healed. What the film suggests instead is quite special: two flawed people edging away from isolation and deception and toward each other. It’s a small measure of welcome comfort.
3 1/2 stars
