Better Late Than Companion (2025)

Yes, I realize that I am about a year and a half late, but at this point, I am just looking to practice writing one-shot reviews without an in-depth plot summary. So, sit back, relax, and get into 500 words of my opinion on Companion (2025).

Exploring themes of autonomy, misogyny, and the ethics of technological control, Companion (2025), directed by Drew Hancock, is a punchy, genre-blending science fiction thriller that never fully lives up to its potential. Though its ideas surrounding bodily autonomy and identity are compelling, I found myself more interested in what the film wanted to say than in how it chose to say it. Companion rarely trusts its audience, spoon-feeding its themes and leaving little to contend with once the credits roll.

The film’s best asset is the flexibility in genre. Beginning with an aggressively corny romantic comedy, the film quickly sweeps audiences into a darker thriller. The exaggerated sweetness of the opening is the film’s wisest creative choice, recontextualizing both leads once their true nature is revealed. Iris (Sophie Thatcher) shows an excessive and concerning level of devotion to her boyfriend, Josh (Jack Quaid), that teeters on the “unbelievable” side. When Iris’ condition is divulged, her attachment to Josh takes on a sinister tone. I appreciate the film disclosing its twist early. I found myself asking multiple questions in the first act, which I enjoyed, but those questions should emerge from thoughtfully built tension, not from the sense that the story is withholding information only to explain the plot and themes prematurely.

Sophie Thatcher is the clear standout. Thatcher pours vulnerability and connection into her role, leading to a well-rounded performance. Iris begins as a product designed to satisfy her owner’s emotional needs, making her ultimate reclamation of identity the film’s emotional core. The opening image of Iris underneath the “Fresh Dairy” text looked like an omen. Here lies before us an innocent, desirable, and ultimately consumable product designed for the pleasure of others, accurately explaining Iris’ place in this world.

Josh’s character, on the other hand, is flawed and affects the film’s quality. Josh’s entitlement, insecurity, and misogyny are so overt that they leave little room for discovery and insight, giving the film a deflated tone. We stop discovering and simply wait for the action to unfold. The more interesting observation is that Companion is not arguing that technology is dangerous; technology amplifies human flaws that are already in play. Josh does not acquire Iris because he is a victim of the male loneliness epidemic; he acquires Iris because he needs control. All additional characters in the small cast play a role in his mission to dominate. While compelling, this idea is repeated so often that the impact loses steam.

Ultimately, Companion is comical and bloody in all the right places, but it never quite becomes the thought-provoking science fiction film it could be. Its strongest ideas are undercut by a script that mistakes explanation for depth. The exploration of the film’s major themes is timely, but rather than asking viewers to wrestle with those ideas, it resolves them on our behalf. Companion is a film with curious questions; I only wish it had been more comfortable leaving some of them unanswered.