At its core, Companion is a satire sharpened to a point, skewering the brittle scaffolding of toxic masculinity, the soft rot of millennial inertia, and the increasingly commodified language of emotional growth. That it does all this while delivering decapitations, dance breaks, and one of the more bizarrely seductive needle drops in recent memory is a testament to its tonal dexterity. It’s a wild, spiky ride, and one can only hope this is the first chapter in a larger, blood-soaked saga. Indeed, this is the Ultimate 4K Review of Companion (2025).
THE FILM
In 2025, horror is a genre that’s not only surviving; it’s thriving. With films like Wolf Man, Presence, Heart Eyes, and The Monkey staking their claim on the box office, Hollywood has come to know one simple truth: horror makes money. As Valentine’s Day looms on the horizon, Companion, a romantic horror film from writer-director Drew Hancock, arrives just in time to shake up the season of love with a thrilling blend of dark humor, suspense, and biting social commentary. At first glance, Companion could be mistaken for just another glossy, big-budget date-night flick. The premise is deceptively familiar: Josh (Jack Quaid), a mild-mannered guy searching for love, finds a seemingly perfect woman in Iris (Sophie Thatcher). The two seem ideal for one another, with the kind of chemistry that makes it clear they’re in love. But early on, Hancock pulls the rug out from under us. The big reveal, held back for a tantalizing dozen minutes, is that Iris isn’t exactly human. She’s a highly advanced, fully customizable sex robot designed to cater to Josh’s every whim. From adjusting her eye color to modifying her personality, Iris is nothing more than a living manifestation of Josh’s desires, controlled with the ease of a smartphone app.
What could have been a mere sibling to the award-winning Her (2013) quickly morphs into a much darker beast. After a weekend getaway to a remote mansion with friends, things take a turn for the worse. Iris; whose perfection seems too good to be true, becomes increasingly alienated by the toxic dynamics of Josh’s social circle, which includes his ex-girlfriend Kat (Megan Suri), a sleazy Russian sugar daddy named Sergey (Rupert Friend), and the hilariously dim-witted gay couple Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage). The film’s suspense builds in unexpected ways, as Josh’s manipulative grip on Iris begins to unravel. At its core, Companion offers a sharp critique of toxic masculinity. Josh, despite being portrayed as a charming, nerdy nice guy, is a walking red flag; a subtly manipulative character whose moments of discomfort after sex (when he refuses to cuddle or engage emotionally) signal a deeper unease that we, the audience, are quick to pick up on. Quaid’s portrayal of Josh is brilliant in its subtlety, as the character’s behavior grows more unsettling with every scene, eventually making him a perfect foil for the awakening of Iris.
Sophie Thatcher’s performance as Iris is nothing short of captivating. She shifts seamlessly between the role of a submissive object of desire and a self-aware entity, slowly becoming more human in her reactions. It’s a tricky balancing act, and Thatcher nails it, turning Iris into a character who is at once mechanical and profoundly emotional. The brilliance of Companion lies in how it allows us to sympathize with Iris; her pain and desire for autonomy are all too relatable, making her journey toward self-awareness the film’s emotional backbone. This is, after all, a film about the dehumanizing effects of technology and the ways in which it commodifies love. The film’s use of technology is both a clever narrative device and a reflection of our present anxieties about the future of robotics and relationships. While Companion doesn’t delve into the philosophical depths of Ex Machina or the ethical quandaries explored in films like Westworld, it’s an effective satire that critiques how modern dating, especially in the age of app-driven hookups, often reduces people to commodities. Josh’s treatment of Iris is a chilling reflection of the ways men can manipulate women (or machines) to fulfill their desires, without any regard for their autonomy or well-being.
Director Drew Hancock, in his feature debut, deftly blends suspense with dark humor. His script is sharp and filled with biting observations about modern relationships, but it’s his direction that truly makes the film sing. The house where the majority of the film takes place becomes its own character, a beautifully desolate mansion that amplifies the tension between the characters. Cinematographer Eli Born’s widescreen compositions are sleek and unsettling, while editors Brett W. Bachman and Josh Ethier expertly cut between moments of heightened drama and absurd humor, disorienting the viewer just enough to keep the tension palpable. The cast, too, is a delight. Lukas Gage stands out as Patrick, the oblivious, endearingly naïve boyfriend of Eli, delivering the film’s best lines with impeccable timing. Harvey Guillén, as the flamboyant Eli, brings much-needed levity to the film’s otherwise tense atmosphere, while Rupert Friend’s Sergey oozes sleaze with just the right touch of humor.
There are no true scares in Companion, but that’s not the point. This is a film about the discomfort of watching someone; human or machine, trying to break free from the shackles of their programming. The horror is psychological, rooted in the manipulation and control at play in Josh and Iris’ toxic relationship. Hancock doesn’t just make us root for the robot; he forces us to confront our own complicity in systems of control, manipulation, and exploitation. Ultimately, Companion is a twisted, darkly comic commentary on the future of relationships, technology, and gender dynamics. Hancock uses the sci-fi tropes of robotics and artificial intelligence to explore contemporary fears about control, autonomy, and love, all while keeping us laughing (and wincing) along the way. The film succeeds as a social commentary, but it’s also just a ton of fun, with great music, witty dialogue, and enough suspense to keep audiences engaged from start to finish. It’s a movie that understands what it’s trying to say; and has a blast doing it.
For a film about a robot designed to please, Companion delivers far more than expected, offering a riveting, darkly comic ride into the complexities of technology and love. It may not be as deep as some of its predecessors, but its thrilling and absurd take on the world of dating in the digital age makes it a standout in 2025’s crowded horror landscape. It’s an eerie and entertaining reminder that love, in any form, can be a terrifying thing.
PURCHASE COMPANION 4K HERE
THE VIDEO
There’s something oddly tender, almost reverent, about the arrival of Companion in the physical media realm, like a letter delivered by hand, long after digital missives have become the norm. The film, which haunted select theaters with its muted melancholy and spectral precision, now materializes on 2160p UHD 4K disc, bearing the hallmarks of a careful, loving transfer. HDR10 guides the image with a steady hand, offering a visual tone poem in greys, deep blues, and those ephemeral pastel pinks that so often flicker just at the edge of this carnage. Curiously, this release forgoes Dolby Vision, the very format that once illuminated its theatrical release with richer contrast and a touch more drama. Its absence is felt, but only slightly.
Still, what’s here is remarkable. The woods; those hushed, ever-watching forests, bloom with nuanced greens, grounding the film’s more ethereal palette in something almost tactile. And when the blood appears, as it must, it arrives not as spectacle but punctuation: a red so immediate and unsettling it could almost be tasted. Black levels are inky and immersive, swallowing light in ways that feel deliberate, and precise. Skin tones remain faithful, unadorned, lived-in faces rendered in a clarity that neither flatters nor betrays. The detail is uncannily sharp, yet never harsh; wide shots breathe with atmosphere, while close-ups reveal the grain of emotion beneath the skin. It is, in short, a resplendent video presentation; quietly beautiful, and richly composed. One might imagine how Dolby Vision could have added a final layer of intensity, a bolder contrast between light and dark. But Companion, in this incarnation, does not seem to mind. It glows with the kind of clarity that feels earned rather than imposed.
THE AUDIO
In Companion, the trees are always listening as are the robots. With its release on 4K UHD, the film’s Dolby Atmos soundtrack arrives like an incantation, delicate at times, feral at others, creating an aural topography as vivid and unsettling as the wooded terrain it so often depicts. This is not a mix that seeks to dazzle with pyrotechnics; rather, it envelops. The soundscape is exquisitely balanced, a terrifying equilibrium between what is heard and what is merely felt. Sound effects don’t merely accompany action; they announce it, each one delivered with a muscular precision that lends the most minor movement a seismic weight. There is a tactility to the sonics: a branch snapped underfoot, a breath drawn in panic, a scream swallowed by trees. The bass rumbles like distant thunder, never aggressive, always present, refusing to overwhelm even as it anchors moments of primal intensity.
The surround speakers are used with a kind of omniscient grace, heightening the sense that something, or someone, is always just out of frame. Footsteps, whispers, and far-off howls slip through the channels like half-forgotten thoughts. In the forest, where the film spends much of its time, the mix blooms; every rustle, every shift of air rendered with a precision that feels almost preternatural. It is in these sequences that the Atmos truly comes alive, making space a character unto itself. The score is a marvel of restraint and escalation, building tension with eerie strings and uneasy silences. But Companion is not without its mischievous streak: song cues arrive with sly timing, offering bursts of comedy or sensuality that thread the film with tonal complexity. It’s a soundtrack that knows when to smirk, and when to strike. Dialogue, often the casualty in lesser Atmos presentations, remains crisp and intelligible throughout. It cuts cleanly through the mix, even when the world around the characters is quite literally collapsing. What results is an Atmos track not merely impressive, but immersive, an acoustic architecture of dread and dark delight. It doesn’t just support the film as it does haunt it.
THE EXTRAS
- I Feel, Therefore I Am (6 Mins.)
- Love, Eli (5 Mins.)
- AI Horror (5 Mins.)
THE ULTIMATE WORD
In Companion, the future isn’t so much dystopian as it is depressingly recognizable; a mirror, slightly warped, held up to our era’s tangled brambles of ego, entitlement, and gendered disrepair. It’s a film that marries horror and comedy with the confidence of a drunk philosopher, lurching between belly laughs and existential dread with unnerving ease. Think Evil Dead 2 meets The Terminator reimagined by a therapist with a TikTok account and a grudge. Now arriving in the solemn temple of physical media, Companion is well-served by Warner Bros.’ 4K UHD presentation. The HDR10-enhanced image is crisp, textured, and moodily lit; rich in silken blacks and dusty pastels, evoking a world both decayed and gleaming. The Dolby Atmos mix is equally thoughtful, constructing a soundscape that breathes and snarls in equal measure. Ambient noises skitter across the sound field, bass tones simmer ominously, and the dialogue, always important in a film this verbally barbed, is delivered with clarity. Where the release stumbles is in its brevity of supplemental material. Sixteen minutes of extras feel more like an afterthought than an invitation to deeper engagement. One longs for a glimpse behind the curtain: how such tonal whiplash was choreographed, how the film’s near-future world was stitched together from threads of now. Alas, that wish remains unfulfilled. Still, this is a release that demands a place on the shelf; not just for its audiovisual quality, but for the film it houses: strange, funny, and feral in all the right ways. Companion may be about the things we carry, our fears, our delusions, our ridiculous self-conceptions, but this disc? This one’s worth holding onto.
WRITTEN BY: BRYAN KLUGER
BRYAN KLUGER, A SEASONED VOICE IN THE REALM OF ENTERTAINMENT CRITICISM, HAS CONTRIBUTED TO A WIDE ARRAY OF PUBLICATIONS INCLUDING ARTS+CULTURE MAGAZINE, HIGH DEF DIGEST, BOOMSTICK COMICS, AND HOUSING WIRE MAGAZINE, AMONG OTHERS.
HIS INSIGHTS ARE ALSO CAPTURED THROUGH HIS PODCASTS; MY BLOODY PODCAST AND FEAR AND LOATHING IN CINEMA PODCAST; WHICH LISTENERS CAN ENJOY ACROSS A VARIETY OF PLATFORMS.
IN ADDITION TO HIS WRITTEN WORK, KLUGER BRINGS HIS EXPERTISE TO THE AIRWAVES, HOSTING TWO LIVE RADIO SHOWS EACH WEEK: SOUNDTRAXXX RADIO ON WEDNESDAYS AND THE ENTERTAINMENT ANSWER ON SUNDAYS. HIS MULTIFACETED APPROACH TO MEDIA AND CULTURE OFFERS A UNIQUE, IMMERSIVE PERSPECTIVE FOR THOSE WHO SEEK BOTH DEPTH AND ENTERTAINMENT.
