Companion

I watched Companion on my tablet at 2 AM because I couldn't sleep, and my cat kept batting at the screen every time Sophie Thatcher’s eyes darted around in a panic. It added a bizarre layer of unintended 4D horror to an already deeply uncomfortable experience. But that’s the thing about contemporary horror; it’s designed to leak into your personal space. It’s not just about a guy in a mask in a basement anymore. It’s about the terrifying ways we try to manufacture intimacy in a world that feels increasingly hollow.

Coming from the production team behind Barbarian (2022), I walked in expecting a certain level of "what the hell am I watching?" energy. Director Drew Hancock doesn’t disappoint on that front. The film positions itself as a sleek, tech-adjacent thriller, but it’s actually a much nastier, more focused character study about the limits of control.

The Architecture of Obsession

The premise feels like a dark reflection of our current obsession with "optimizing" everything—our diets, our schedules, and now, our partners. We meet Iris (Sophie Thatcher), who is trapped in a sprawling, beautiful lakeside estate. It’s the kind of place that looks like an Airbnb ad but feels like a tomb. Her "host" is Josh (Jack Quaid), a man who radiates a specific kind of "nice guy" energy that feels like a threat from the second he opens his mouth.

Sophie Thatcher (who many of us fell in love with in Yellowjackets) is incredible here. She has this way of conveying total exhaustion and sharp-edged calculation at the same time. You aren't just watching a victim; you’re watching a survivor who is constantly running permutations in her head. Opposite her, Jack Quaid is a revelation. We’re used to him being the lovable, bumbling hero in The Boys, but here he uses that same charm to create something genuinely skin-crawling. He plays Josh with a desperate, pathetic Need (with a capital N) that makes his outbursts feel entirely unpredictable.

The lakeside retreat setting is basically the new 'abandoned asylum' of the 2020s, but with better WiFi and significantly more emotional baggage. It’s a clean, well-lit nightmare, and cinematographer Eli Born (who lensed the Hellraiser remake) shoots it with a sterile beauty that makes the eventual bursts of violence feel even more intrusive.

A Cult Classic in the Making?

There is a specific kind of movie that fails to ignite the massive blockbuster box office but lingers in the back of your brain until you’re forcing your friends to watch it six months later. Companion feels like that movie. It’s got a mean streak that feels refreshing in an era where a lot of horror feels like it's been sanded down by committee to be "elevated" or "socially conscious." This is just a well-oiled machine designed to make you squirm.

The supporting cast, including Lukas Gage and Harvey Guillén (What We Do in the Shadows), bring a much-needed texture to the world outside the estate. Rupert Friend, playing a character named Sergey, adds a layer of "tech-bro" arrogance that feels far too real for 2025. It’s a film that understands how the wealthy treat human connection as just another commodity to be bought, sold, or programmed.

Interestingly, Drew Hancock originally came from a background in TV comedy (Suburgatory, My Name is Earl). You can feel that in the film’s DNA. There is a dark, gallows humor running through the script that prevents it from becoming too dour. It knows when to wink at the audience, and it knows exactly when to twist the knife. Apparently, the production was kept under a massive veil of secrecy, with the "Companion" technology being the big question mark during filming—and that mystery serves the final product well.

Why It Works Now

In the streaming era, we are bombarded with "content," but Companion feels like a movie. It’t not a pilot for a series; it’s a tight, 97-minute punch to the gut. It engages with the current discourse around AI and the "loneliness epidemic" without feeling like a lecture. Instead, it asks: If you could build the perfect person, would you actually want them, or would you just want someone you could break?

The "find someone made just for you" tagline is a masterclass in irony once you see what that actually entails. It’s a film that stays with you, mostly because of the chemistry between Thatcher and Quaid. Their dynamic is a poisonous waltz, and you can’t look away even when you know someone is about to fall off the cliff.

Companion is a sharp, nasty piece of work that benefits from a low-budget ingenuity often missing from bigger studio fare. It’s a reminder that the most terrifying things aren’t necessarily the monsters under the bed, but the people we invite into our lives under the guise of love. If you’re looking for a thriller that values tension over cheap jump scares and isn’t afraid to get its hands dirty, this is one of the more rewarding watches of the mid-2020s. Just maybe don't watch it on a first date.