Aspiring author and illustrator transatlantic couple, Tom (Jim Schubin) and Eve (Chloe Carroll), lie their way into an exclusive relationship study programme known as ‘The Millennium Project’. The programme is for married couples only, and seeks to explore how to sustain that ‘honeymoon phase’ of a relationship, long term. In exchange for 30 days of their lives, participants are paid $50,000. Tom and Eve are in dire need of that cash so that they can start their future together, but although they are engaged, they aren’t technically married; they decide to tell a few white lies and end up on the study. What begins as an idyllic oasis with the one they love, soon morphs into paranoia, violence, and betrayal, as Eve begins to realise there is more to Tom than meets the eye…
On paper, The Honeymoon Phase reads like it could be an episode of Black Mirror, and having seen the film, I can confirm that watching it also feels like watching an episode of the series. That’s not a slight on the film at all, in fact it’s meant as a compliment as the team have managed to match the high production values and twisted ideologies of one of the best television shows of the last decade. It captures that same tangible near-future world that Black Mirror always manages to do. By making it seem feasible, however small, you allow the story some credibility. The world is suitably science-fiction, with our two leads clad in some The Hunger Games-esque uniforms for the duration of the study, a tube in the kitchen that gives them anything they want, and a holographic doctor to check in with them daily. They’re all things we’ve seen time and time again within the genre, but this isn’t a film that tries to dazzle you with science, it’s much more about the relationship.
In addition to feeling like an undiscovered episode of Black Mirror, The Honeymoon Phase also shares some nice parallels with Leigh Janiak’s Honeymoon, and we’re not just talking about the word in the name. In Honeymoon, Rose Leslie’s Bea, and her newlywed husband Paul (Harry Treadaway), escape to the woods for a secluded honeymoon, things then get weird after Bea is found roaming around outside one night. After that, Paul begins to realise that Bea, might not be herself anymore. It’s a subtly similar story-line in The Honeymoon Phase, but the gender roles have been swapped and it’s Eve who doesn’t believe her boyfriend is himself anymore. It taps into the same rising paranoia that is expressed in Janiak’s film, and forces the audience to try and figure out with is happening, alongside Eve. Is it Tom? Is it not Tom? Is it just cabin fever setting in? It’s heartbreaking watching the decline of these two people whom are so in love when we first meet them.
With The Honeymoon Phase, writer and director Phillip G. Carroll Jr. manages to perfectly balance a multitude of genres. The science-fiction elements have been highlighted, as has the love story, but The Honeymoon Phase also veers into the horror genre, with a nice swerve into body horror, all of which are bundled up inside a psychological thriller. With so many different elements competing with each other, the film could easily be overwhelmed, but thanks to Carroll’s astute attention to detail, everything remains on track. In many ways, The Honeymoon Phase would make for a great film partner to Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man, which also straddled a lot of different genre styles. It would be a heavy double-feature, but both films capture the toxicity of abuse, with a particular spotlight on gas-lighting and a need for control, in a frank and honest way. Much like Whannell’s film, at several points The Honeymoon Phase makes for rather uncomfortable viewing, but it forces the audience to realise that not every relationship is what it seems to the outside world.
The two leads give stellar performances. Each has a slightly different job to do, but both are incredibly brave and emotionally demanding performances. As Tom, Jim Schubin has to play several versions of the same character, each with slightly different nuances to play into Eve’s paranoia and mistrust. He also has to go to some really dark and disturbing places; this guy has a death stare that would curdle milk. Opposite him is Chloe Carroll (whom is also director Phillip G. Carroll Jr’s actual wife, as well as one of the film’s producers) as Eve. When we meet her for the first time, she’s confident and outspoken, but as the story progresses, she changes into someone whom is almost unrecognisable. She still maintains her spirit, but she’s clearly haunted by what is happening to the pair, offering a truthful portrayal of someone in a toxic relationship. There are even more emotion draining moments for her as she lays herself bare so the audience can truly understand her plight. The intimacy that is garnered through these moments clearly stems from the real-life bond between lead and director, and it makes the film all the more powerful for it.
As fantastic as it is, The Honeymoon Phase isn’t quite perfect. There are a couple of plot points that really need better explanation to satisfy the audience. Left as they are, they may cause confusion; one of them opens up a huge question relatively early on, and it’s lack of suitable acknowledgement from any of the characters leads to some frustration. That aside, The Honeymoon Phase is a tightly written, beautifully acted, gripping psychological sci-fi thriller that will have you questioning just how well you know the person with whom you share your bed.
The Honeymoon Phase was reviewed at Arrow Video FrightFest 2020.
The Honeymoon Phase
Summary
A wonderfully told and captivating story that will have you on the edge of your seat.
