Aaron Strand’s feature debut Withdrawal is an unflinching portrait of two young artists attempting to break free from heroin dependency over the course of a single night. The film centres on Viv, played by Millie Rose Evans, and Jay, portrayed by Brent Michal, whose relationship has become inseparable from their shared addiction. When Viv’s parents arrange professional help, the pair choose instead to confront withdrawal on their own, relying on a limited Suboxone supply and sheer determination.
The film adopts an immersive, moment‑to‑moment structure, placing viewers directly inside the physical and psychological turmoil of detox. Strand’s approach is stark and uncompromising, depicting the symptoms of withdrawal with clinical precision. Sweating, tremors, disorientation, and waves of panic form the backbone of the narrative, emphasising the severity of the process and the toll it takes on both characters. The film’s intensity positions it somewhere between intimate drama and survival story, with addiction functioning as the central antagonist.
Evans and Michal carry the film with performances that feel grounded and emotionally consistent. Their portrayal of a couple bound by affection yet strained by dependency gives the story its weight. Through flashbacks, the film reveals glimpses of their lives before addiction, offering contrast to the present‑day crisis and highlighting how quickly stability can erode. These scenes also allow both actors to explore a wider emotional range, underscoring the complexity of Viv and Jay’s connection.
Strand’s direction maintains a close focus on the characters, favouring tight framing and minimal distraction. The dual‑timeline structure provides rhythm, alternating between the intensity of the night and the quieter memories that shaped the relationship. Emily Marquet’s cinematography reinforces the film’s claustrophobic tone, using saturated colours and dim lighting to evoke the disorientation of withdrawal. The production design — marked by cluttered spaces, graffiti, and a worn‑in aesthetic — contributes to an atmosphere that mirrors the characters’ internal chaos.
At 93 minutes, Withdrawal remains concentrated and purposeful, balancing its depiction of addiction with moments of tenderness and artistic expression. The film’s final stretch delivers a memorable emotional impact without resorting to sentimentality, maintaining the same level of honesty that defines the rest of the narrative.
Withdrawal stands as a striking first feature for Strand, driven by committed performances, a clear stylistic identity, and a willingness to confront its subject matter directly. It’s a challenging watch, but a carefully crafted one that demonstrates notable promise from its cast and director.
