Some movies try to be everything. Twinless knows exactly what it is — and refuses to flinch. Written, directed, and co-starring James Sweeney, this prickly, unexpectedly moving black comedy sneaks up on you with its bite, then blindsides you with its honesty.  The concept of “twinless twins” – individuals who’ve lost their twin sibling — brings a unique kind of grief. It’s not just losing someone close. It’s losing the mirror, the echo, the other half of your origin story. That rare emotional terrain is where Sweeney sets his film, navigating it with empathy, wit, and enough dark humor to keep you off balance.

Roman (Dylan O’Brien, The Outfit) and Dennis (Sweeney) meet at a Portland support group for people who’ve lost a twin. Roman, a drifting delivery driver, is mourning the death of his gay twin brother Rocky. Dennis, a dry-humored copywriter, lost his own twin years earlier and has since built his personality around precision detachment. They bond fast — maybe too fast. As they entangle themselves in each other’s lives, the cracks in their stories begin to show. When Roman starts dating Dennis’s exuberant coworker Marcie (Aisling Franciosi, The Unforgivable), secrets surface, roles flip, and what seemed like quirky trauma-bonding begins to take on the weight of something more psychologically charged.

This represents O’Brien’s finest work to date, a fearless dual performance that showcases an actor finally given material worthy of his considerable talents. After years of being underutilized in franchise attempts, O’Brien throws himself completely into Roman’s journey — both physically and emotionally vulnerable as he navigates loss while simultaneously portraying the deceased Rocky in flashbacks. The straight Roman isn’t particularly sharp, but O’Brien imbues him with such sweetness that his innocence becomes endearing rather than frustrating.

Sweeney matches O’Brien’s commitment with his own nuanced turn as Dennis, a man so self-aware he’s borderline self-sabotaging. Their chemistry is everything here, portraying male intimacy with rare honesty — affection, jealousy, longing, and frustration all tangled up in their dynamic. It never leans into obvious “will-they-won’t-they” territory. Instead, the film focuses on something messier and more real: two people clinging to each other not out of love, necessarily, but out of shared brokenness.

The supporting cast provides excellent texture and good contrast to the leading men. Franciosi brings an effervescent warmth to a character that could have felt like a convenient plot device. Lauren Graham gets haunting moments as Roman’s stiff mother who won’t admit it but possibly liked Rocky more than her surviving son, and The Deliverance‘s Tasha Smith (as the grief group’s facilitator) provides the support group with strength without slipping into therapist clichés.

Visually, Twinless has unassuming intimacy. Greg Cotten‘s cinematography leans into natural light and cozy interiors — coffee shops, cluttered apartments, grocery stores, overcast streets — creating closeness even when characters are emotionally miles apart. Jung Jae-il’s (Parasite) score is subtle and melancholic, knowing when to leave space and when to lean in. Editor Nik Boyanov keeps the pacing tight and character-driven, though the final stretch leans into more familiar indie drama beats. Even so, the emotional current never breaks.

What elevates Twinless above typical grief narratives is Sweeney’s refusal to reduce his characters to their circumstances. This is not a bromance or a romance. It’s something more brittle, more complicated.  Sweeney has created something altogether slippery: an exploration of two men discovering that their shared experience of incomprehensible loss creates its own form of intimacy. Their bond transcends sexual orientation because it’s rooted in something deeper — the recognition of a wound that won’t heal and the desperate hope that someone else might understand.

There’s some slight drag in the final act — a few plot turns that feel just a shade too scripted — but that’s forgivable. At Sundance earlier this year, Twinless earned buzz, unfortunately not always for the right reasons. Leaked explicit clips lit up social media, derailing conversation from the actual substance of the film. Which is a shame, because this isn’t a movie about sex. It’s about the void people leave behind and how we fill that space — with sarcasm, with people, with stories that may or may not be true.

Sweeney could have made a safer movie about platonic friendship, or queer romance, or sibling grief. Instead, he’s crafted something far riskier — a story that refuses to be pinned down, one that sits in the discomfort of loss and asks what happens when connection becomes a coping mechanism. It’s tender, twisted, and deeply funny in places you feel bad for laughing. By the end, we may not know everything about these characters, but we understand their pain. And while we often look to media to give us something genuine and real and come up empty-handed, here’s a small film that trusts audiences to engage with genuine human messiness.