The Dead Thing (2025)

The New Flesh is the body that behaves like the data it produces.
—Adam C. Jones

It’s a treat to see what Colors of the Dark co-host Elric Kane has in his lens, and his technical awareness is immediately on display: title fonts, colors, and screen composition are top notch, and provide satisfying bookends to the story. As we settle in, the lead actor and character (Blu Hunt as Alex) are the center of the film. It's an impressive presentation of disconnection that understands alienation as a dynamic relation. Alex isn’t just withdrawn—she’s guarded, but she’s also funny and engaging. When she goofs around with a coworker, and he mistakes it for chemistry, insults her, and violates her boundaries, we understand the stakes for her. She’s in a world that is both networked and disconnected. Her sense of alienation comes from a recognition of how the systems around her shape every interaction and form our sense of self. The premise takes that mediated condition to an extreme: We can’t ever escape the New Flesh.

There are plenty of reasons why contemporary filmmakers might want to avoid the technological accoutrements of our extended present moment. Cell phones and the internet are uncinematic and counter-narrative. We’re so relieved when a film is set before 2000 and can plausibly deny the enshittification of reality we know is coming that we don’t demand films help us sort out the mess we’re in. We watched The Dead Thing in a double-feature, followed by Love Lies Bleeding, and what a relief it was at intermission to put our dumb phones in do-not-exist mode and retreat to 1989.

We respect filmmakers who dare to engage the always-on social media era, even when it makes the film difficult to enjoy. Bodies Bodies Bodies managed to do this and still be a good time. The Dead Thing is not so much trapped by its premise as stuck in the rut of its pacing and plotting. It has something to say, and it knows how films work, even when it doesn’t work. Elric Kane loves Possession, as he’s discussed on his podcast. He plays with the oppressive atmosphere of that film, its muted color palette, and the theme of a secret lover that is a manifestation of a character’s neuroses. He updates Cold War anxiety with social media malaise. It’s appropriate to the narrative that the film refuses to end or gives us several potential endings. Though its landing point feels depressingly inevitable, it also feels correct. There’s a cold but no less real pleasure in watching a filmmaker do exactly what they want to do that’s separate from how you feel about the film, and that sense of remove reverberates with The Dead Thing’s vibe. 3 out of 5 sacs of blood.

—J †Johnson