‘Twinless’ review: A bromance built for two | Sundance 2025

Dylan O’Brien and James Sweeney star in Twinless, a darkly hilarious tale about two men trauma-bonding over the loss of their respective twins.

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Twinless takes the idea of twin bereavement support and punches it right in the face, sending it stumbling into something far darker, weirder, and funnier than you’d expect. It’s a film about grief, loneliness, and deception, sure—but in the same way a hockey game is about the puck. Writer-director-star James Sweeney doesn’t just explore these themes, he shoves them into the passenger seat and floors it, taking the audience on a twisted, codependent buddy comedy with a side of existential panic. Co-starring Dylan O’Brien (playing what might be his best role yet), Twinless is that rare dramedy that keeps you guessing—not because of shocking plot twists (though there are plenty) but because you genuinely have no idea what these characters are going to say or do next. It’s The Odd Couple meets Fight Club meets whatever happens when your therapist cancels on you last minute.

O’Brien plays Roman, a young man with anger issues grappling with the loss of his twin brother. Sweeney is Dennis, another twinless twin whose grief has curdled into something almost predatory. They meet in a support group that feels less like a safe space and more like a social experiment gone wrong. What follows is a friendship—if you can call it that—built on trauma, unhealthy boundaries, and the kind of emotional manipulation that would make a reality TV producer proud.

The chemistry between O’Brien and Sweeney is so eerily natural, you’d be forgiven for thinking they actually met in kindergarten. Their bond is part brotherhood, part cult, part something so psychologically unsettling that you’d need at least three different professionals to unpack it. And yet, against all odds, it works. It’s a testament to both actors’ performances that even at their worst—when they’re needy, cruel, or outright destructive—you still root for them. Mostly.

Sweeney, who previously impressed with his razor-sharp debut Straight Up, proves once again that he’s a millennial force to be reckoned with. As both writer and director, he constructs a script that is somehow both painfully funny and deeply troubling, needling jokes into moments that should be unbearable but instead feel…well, slightly more bearable. His direction is equally confident, opting for 35mm film to add a warmth and texture that contrasts with the psychological torment at the heart of the story.

He’s also made some wild but effective creative choices: casting real twin actors in the support group scenes, shooting entirely on location in Portland, and splitting the shoot to give O’Brien the time and space to embody both his roles (we briefly meet his twin, Rocky, through flashback). This isn’t just a gimmick. It’s a commitment to the film’s point. That even when someone is gone, the things they left behind still have some baggage to unpack.

But let’s talk about O’Brien. After years of proving his versatility (Teen Wolf, The Outfit, Ponyboi), Twinless might just be his magnum opus of unhinged charm. As Roman, he is a walking contradiction: deeply charismatic, emotionally volatile, and armed with the kind of grin that makes you wonder whether he’s about to hug you or throw you through a window. He plays grief like a live wire, sparking between denial and full-blown breakdown at any given moment, and his timing—both comedic and tragic—is impeccable. He makes every scene electric, even when Roman is just sitting in a dimly lit room, contemplating the worst decisions of his life.

And let’s not forget the supporting cast. Aisling Franciosi (The Nightingale, Stopmotion) brings an aching realism to Marcie, a woman who sees through Roman and Dennis’s toxic dynamic but might be too tangled in her own people-pleasing hangups to intervene. Lauren Graham (Gilmore Girls) lends both humor and gravitas as Roman/Rocky’s pain-stricken mother. A downside of the film is how unexplored her character ends up being in the end. Chris Perfetti (Abbott Elementary) and Tasha Smith (BMF, Survival of the Thickest) round out the cast with quirky performances that keep the film from ever slipping too far into a hopeless abyss. Particularly when it decides on “Crazy for this Girl” as its anthem, which…yes. 100% correct choice.

Twinless thrives on unpredictability. Just when you think you understand where the film is going, it takes a hard left turn, leaving you staring at the screen. Maybe wondering if you should be laughing or deeply concerned (hint: both). Sweeney’s script knows exactly when to subvert expectations, dodging clichés in favor of characters so deeply flawed and bizarrely endearing that you want to wrap them in a weighted blanket and tell them everything’s going to be okay. Even when you know it won’t be.

But beyond the humor, the film cuts deep. Grief isn’t just sadness. It’s strange, irrational, sometimes even funny in a way that makes you feel bad for laughing. Twinless understands that grief isn’t a straight line—it loops, it lingers, it shows up in unexpected places. Resolving these issues through another person can certainly be healthy. Until it turns into an exercise in filling the void with another person.

Is Twinless for everyone? Probably not. Some will find its humor too twisted, its characters too unlikable, its tone too jagged. But for those who love their dramedies scruffy, emotionally risky, and laugh-out-loud funny in the most uncomfortable way possible, Twinless delivers double the trouble. Sweeney has cemented himself as a filmmaker to watch, and O’Brien continues his streak of making bold, fascinating choices. I may not have a twin, myself but I sure as hell feel like I lost something now that this film is over.

Twinless had its world premiere at the Sundance 2025 Film Festival. Find more of our Sundance 2025 coverage here.