Letting Go Isn’t the Same As Healing

Read Time:6 Minute, 5 Second

MOVIE REVIEW
Trust
–

Genre: Drama
Year Released: 2022
Runtime: 1h 37m
Director(s): Almog Avidan Antonir
Writer(s): Almog Avidan Antonir, Jennifer Levinson
Cast: Linden Ashby, Jennifer Levinson, Heston Horwin, Kate Spare, Max Perlich, Michael Laskin, Sascha Knopf, Amy Tolsky, Adrian Elizondo, Carson Nicely, C.J. Hoff, Tom Virtue
Where to Watch: Available now. Stream here: www.amazon.com

RAVING REVIEW: It’s not every day that a story about grief, betrayal, and awkward reunions can crack a smile while shattering your expectations—but this one pulls it off with a sting. Mixing dry wit with genuine tension, the film captures the uncomfortable chaos of family drama in an unflinching and unexpectedly entertaining way.

TRUST hits like a slow-motion car crash—compelling, painful, and impossible to look away from. Instead of fast-tracking closure, it lets the dysfunction sit, steep, and boil over. Co-written by Jennifer Levinson, who also stars as Kate, the film doesn’t push characters toward growth as much as it asks whether it’s okay to stop trying altogether. Director and co-writer Almog Avidan Antonir resists spectacle, instead focusing on intimate performances and direction that lets tension simmer naturally, sometimes to an unbearable degree.

Kate returns home from college under the worst circumstances. Her mother has taken her own life, and what follows isn’t a journey of healing—it’s an emotionally brutal trip through everything unresolved. Instead of comfort, Kate finds silence, chaos, and a home that feels more like a set of emotional landmines. Her brother Josh, played with nuance by Heston Horwin, tries to hold the ceremony—and the family—together. Meanwhile, their sister Trini, played by Kate Spare, is an unstable cocktail of spiritual rebranding and self-delusion, showing up late but certainly making her presence felt.

As if all that weren’t enough, their estranged father Damien—played by Linden Ashby with the perfect level of aggravating smugness—adds gasoline to the fire. Having never signed his divorce papers, Damien becomes the surprise inheritor of everything their mother left behind. That includes the estate and emotional control, which he quickly uses to bulldoze any lingering connection with his kids. Whether intentional or not, this plot twist becomes the movie’s anchor, underscoring how powerless children can feel in the wake of their parents' failures.

There’s a scene at the funeral framed in a single take—Antonir’s direction turns what could’ve been a simple emotional beat into a layered moment of chaos and sorrow. Throughout the film, he gives the actors room to breathe, allowing emotions to rise naturally instead of manufacturing them with overbearing music or dramatic edits. The cinematography is restrained but never dull; daylight bathes scenes that should feel somber, creating a visual contrast between external normalcy and internal collapse.

One of the real surprises here is how well TRUST balances the heavy with the humorous. No, it’s not a comedy, but the script leans into awkwardness with enough self-awareness that the moments of levity feel earned. The Shiva, for instance, brings its brand of tension and absurdity. Conflicts over the ceremonies, music, and personal beliefs flare up in exaggerated yet entirely believable ways. If you’ve ever spent too much time with extended relatives after a tragedy, this might be too close to home.

It’s not just the Shiva setting that triggered flashbacks to another favorite stress-inducing spiral of a movie. About twenty minutes in, I caught myself whispering, “Oh, this is giving SHIVA BABY vibes,” and not just because there’s death involved. TRUST echoes that same beautifully suffocating sense of being emotionally cornered in broad daylight—like grief decided to host a family reunion, and no one got the memo about boundaries. Sure, it goes in a different narrative direction, but the shared sense of anxious paralysis, social suffocation, and passive-aggressive warfare makes it feel like they’re distant, traumatized cousins. This isn’t just a funeral—it’s a psychological pressure cooker disguised as a memorial.

Levinson’s Kate is guarded but never cold—her frustration bleeds into every line without turning her into a caricature. Josh, in contrast, is all pent-up stress and failed peacekeeping, giving Horwin plenty of room to deliver some of the most affecting moments in the film. And Trini? Equal parts comic relief and dramatic wildcard. Spare finds just enough vulnerability beneath the eccentricity to keep her character from tipping into parody.

Damien deserves particular attention. He’s not a scenery-chewing villain—he’s something much worse. He’s the kind of person who hides behind charm and dad jokes while manipulating everyone around him. It’s infuriating, but his performance works precisely because it doesn’t push too hard. That restraint makes his betrayal feel even more personal and far more real.

The film doesn’t force resolutions. Instead, it leans into something more honest. Sometimes, walking away is the best answer. Sometimes, people don’t change. And sometimes, it’s okay to protect yourself, even if that means cutting ties. It’s a refreshing choice that bucks genre expectations while hitting much harder.

Ultimately, TRUST earns its impact not by shocking you, but by slowly tightening the emotional screws. It’s a character-driven piece that understands the emotional weight of silence and the explosive potential of unresolved trauma. And it understands that when the people closest to you are causing the most harm, survival can look like distance, not reunion.

For anyone who’s lived through messy family dynamics or struggled to maintain relationships that always seem to hurt more than they help, this movie will likely resonate more than you expect. It’s not a clean story, and that’s what makes it stick. TRUST doesn’t beg for your sympathy—it demands your honesty. And sometimes, that’s the harder thing to give.

Please visit https://linktr.ee/overlyhonestr for more reviews.

You can follow me on Letterboxd, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube. My social media accounts can also be found on most platforms by searching Overly Honest Reviews.

I’m always happy to hear from my readers; please say hi or send me any questions about movies.

[photo courtesy of ALMONIA PRODUCTIONS, LANDWIRTH LEGACY PRODUCTIONS, OPEN HEART PRODUCTIONS]

DISCLAIMER:
At Overly Honest Movie Reviews, we value honesty and transparency. Occasionally, we receive free items for review, including DVDs, Blu-rays, CDs, Vinyl, Books, etc. We assure you that these arrangements do not influence our reviews, as we are committed to providing unbiased and sincere evaluations. We aim to help you make informed entertainment choices regardless of our relationship with distributors or producers.

Amazon Affiliate Links:
Additionally, this site contains Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, we may receive a commission. This affiliate arrangement does not affect our commitment to honest reviews and helps support our site. We appreciate your trust and support in navigating these links.