“Touch Me” Defends the Monstrous Millennial

Of all the generations alive today, millennials seem to be the most reviled. Constantly shamed for their love of avocado toast, we’re called weak or soft and blamed for killing everything from diamonds, gyms, and napkins, to the concept of traditional marriage itself. Yet millennials have also seen their fair share of strife. Entering the workforce during the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, we’ve watched our student loans balloon and been barred from finding respectable work as older generations hoard wealth and power. And through it all, we’ve managed to find joy in simple treats and survive with every conceivable deck stacked against us. Rather than shiftless parasites, millennials have become pain sponges for the frustrations of our elders now living through the consequences of their own choices. Addison Heimann’s film Touch Me begins with two toxic millennials leeching off of someone else’s system only to find their own humanity when threatened by an actual monster. 

Joey (Olivia Taylor Dudley) and Craig (Jordan Gavaris) live on the fringes. Jobless, they lay around vaping all day while creating inconsequential deep fake videos and waiting for their latest hookup to arrive. Craig has been surviving off his parents’ money, but balks when a plumbing issue necessitates asking for more. Joey also seems incapable of supporting herself and fails to secure an entry level customer service job. These minor inconveniences cause the pair to abandon their nice home and return to Joey’s abusive ex, a track suit-wearing alien named Brian (Lou Taylor Pucci). Hiding from reality on his glamorous estate, they both begin affairs with the handsome creature and become addicted to his intoxicating brand of wellness. But as these relationships intensify, Brian’s demands begin to grow stranger and more dangerous. If not for the dreamy man’s uncanny ability to block out all of their negative thoughts, both would have left the house days ago. But now they must find out how much they’re willing to risk for the slight chance of losing their ever-present mallais. 

Heimann takes a bold swing by making his two heroes instantly unlikable. We’re introduced to Joey as she recounts a harrowing story of sexual assault, however, it’s filled with so much inane detail that it’s tempting to want to turn the film off. Even her therapist has a hard time taking her story seriously. Craig is equally despicable, if not more so. With a date coming over, he insists Joey hide in the bedroom he gave her, staying silent all night with the lights turned off. Despite this minimization, she cheers him up later with a cringe-inducing dildo tickle fight. Though savvy, sarcastic, and cynical, these best friends have no place in the larger world. 

Brian arrives like the answer to a prayer. Not only does his touch clear their minds of negative thoughts, he claims to have the key to permanent inner peace. With ample evidence that the creature is at least unwell if not unsafe, these transient twenty-somethings risk their lives for a few moments of blissful ignorance. They may be superficial and self-absorbed, but the only thing they truly want is a moment to mentally escape their pain. 

Wielding therapy speak, crystals, and endless compassion, this guru-like heartthrob promises an end to their suffering. The only thing they have to do is submit to his every whim. They become guinea pigs in bizarre therapy rituals likely designed to break down their resolve, if not simply for Brian’s own entertainment. He claims to have some lofty goal, but turns out to have little of substance to offer. Smoke and mirrors hide a dangerous parasite who feeds on the emotional energy of his guests. When kindness fails, he turns the two friends against each other to distract them from his devious plans. Though coded as an enlightened hipster, he becomes a representation of the larger world made up of elders who use their power to scapegoat millennials instead of fixing the problems they created. 

And this is the key to understanding the complex tightrope Heimann is walking. By slowly peeling back the unlikability and revealing Joey and Craig to be relatable human beings, he explores the true nature of millennial trauma. We’ve been told we’re monsters by the rest of the world, but considering everything we’ve had to face, we’ve become one of the most resilient of all. With nothing but stubborn determination, these two friends devise a way to protect themselves against the true parasitic threat. 

This metaphysical exploration is paired with an experimental style that defies classification. We’re introduced to Brian as he dances out his feelings alongside his middle-aged housekeeper who knows every step. Other details feel absurd, like Brian’s chosen meals and a bizarre vulnerability that could cause instant death. But other moments feel profound, like gorgeous interspecies sex montages and mind-bending split screen therapy sessions. It’s a blunt and bold vision that seems designed to push away all but the most dedicated viewer. But those willing to stick it out will find an unflinching exploration of the millennial psyche and its resolve to survive at any cost. Like Brian, the world has been trying to bend us to its will while blaming us for society’s crumble. But maybe by letting go of the shame and guilt constantly thrust on us by the rest of the world, we can find a way to thrive instead.

Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *