‘Touch Me’: A Sci-Fi Fantasia for the Nervous Millennial [Sundance 2025 Review]

Josh Korngut   |  

Jan 28, 2025

• Share on Facebook
• Share on Twitter
• Share on LinkedIn
• Share on Flipboard
• Share on Reddit
• Share on Pinterest
• Share on WhatsApp
• Share via Email

Addison Heimann refuses to be pigeonholed with his sophomore feature, Touch Me, which made its world premiere at Sundance 2025. The maddeningly original film cements Heimann as a lo-fi, left-field visionary. Refusing to commit to a single genre, the project proudly wears its zany Japanese influences on its sleeve. It’s a queer-millennial fantasia brimming with big ideas about anxiety, trauma, validation, and addiction. While the film occasionally struggles to reach the point, its audacity and heart compensate for this. 

In the film, codependent best friends (Olivia Taylor Dudley and Jordan Gavaris) become addicted to the heroin-like touch of an alien narcissist who may or may not be trying to take over the world. The plot is as bizarre as it sounds, blending dark humor, science fiction, and a heavy dose of existential dread into an unpredictable, bubbling stew. While it would’ve been strategically safer for Heimann to follow up Hypochondriac with a traditional horror film, he instead delivered something messy, inventive, and unapologetically weird. Its heavy themes are tackled with a surrealist bent that sometimes borders on chaos, but even when the narrative meanders, the emotional core remains firmly intact.

Also Read:
‘The Ugly Stepsister’ Suffers Body Horror for Beauty in Twisted Fairytale Retelling [Sundance 2025 Review]

At its core, Touch Me is defined by its impressive ensemble cast, whose chemistry is an anchor for the occasional listlessness of its script. Lou Taylor Pucci, Olivia Taylor Dudley, Jordan Gavaris, and Marlene Forte deliver performances that constantly elevate Heimann’s strange sci-fi tale into something grander. Each actor brings a unique energy to their role, and together, they create a mesmerizing, often sad, sometimes sexy, dynamic. As the film’s central antagonist, Lou Taylor Pucci delivers an impressively bumbling and bizarre performance. Then there’s veteran actor Marlene Forte, who rounds out the ensemble with a commanding performance that always has the capacity to steal a scene.

Olivia Taylor Dudley and Jordan Gavaris shine as dual leads, two friends whose bond feels tender but also toxic. The often-profound, even sacred, relationship between gay men and women is rarely treated with such respect and nuance, and Heimann’s approach is both refreshing and poignant. This sacredness extends to the film’s broader themes, particularly its exploration of finding peace in your own skin. For queer individuals, this is a privilege that’s all too often denied, and Touch Me is keenly aware of that sad truth.

Touch Me is most compelling when it explores themes of millennial anxiety. In an era where millennial ennui is often the butt of the joke, this film offers a compassionate portrayal of what it means to grapple with self-worth in a world that seems intent on undermining it. Anxiety is not just a subplot here—it’s the story’s heart.

Heimann makes the most of limited resources, crafting a vibrant and alive world. The film’s lo-fi aesthetic is part of its charm, adding intimacy. Its influences from zany vintage Japanese cinema are evident in its bold tonal shifts and playful visual style. While this approach may not resonate with everyone, it’s undeniably bold and indicative of a filmmaker unafraid to take risks.

The greatest challenge is also this film’s greatest strength—its willingness to embrace the weird. Touch Me is not an easy film to categorize or define, and its refusal to conform to traditional narrative structures may alienate some viewers. Heimann’s commitment to following his every impulse is admirable and often impressive. There’s a lot of creativity here, and it’s a wonder to see it unfiltered. However, due to the small scope of the film and limited resources, I think it could have benefited from some honing and editing. It’s strongest in moments of intimate, tightly shot dialogue. Dudley’s lengthy opening monologue is quietly one of the boldest moments I’ve seen at Sundance all year.

Also Read:
‘Dead Lover’ is the Disruptive, Punk Kid Sibling to Recent Gothic Revivals like ‘Nosferatu’ [Sundance 2025 Review]

While it will undoubtedly not be for everyone, Touch Me is a bold and inventive watch that cements Addison Heimann as a critical new voice in cinema. For those willing to embrace this queer intergalactic lo-fi fantasia, it’s well worth taking the plunge. From its stellar performances to honest depictions of millennial grief, you won’t see much else like it this year.

Subscribe to our Newsletter