“Littermates” takes place during a mysterious war, following Liam and Mel, who take refuge at a cottage in the English countryside where a caretaker insists they must stay together.
There’s something immediately off-putting about “Littermates.” Perhaps it’s because of the boxy 1.33:1 aspect ratio. Possibly the blood-soaked characters with memory loss. Or maybe the looming gunfire in the background. It could even be the “nifties.” There are a plethora of unnerving occurrences happening onscreen as composer Noa Margalit’s soothing melodies play on top. All of this culminates in a quietly intense atmosphere that develops before the title card even appears.
Amid the uncertainty of the outside world, “Littermates” isn’t necessarily focused on generating constant anxiety. Instead, it explores human connection in its simplest form, with two characters who bond despite seemingly knowing nothing. This includes both the good and bad: friendship, learning, jealousy and betrayal. While segments of the film are warm and inviting, this doesn’t mean that the underlying tension goes away completely.
Oftentimes on a dime, “Littermates” shifts from nonchalant to heated. Co-directors Scott Tinkham and Michael Woloson masterfully pull off this bait-and-switch approach time and time again. It’s in these moments when the movie is at its best. One second, you’ll be watching a subplot about an undergarments thief (yes, you read that correctly). Next, it seems like entire lives are at stake. Tinkham and Woloson balance the in-house and world tensions well, never letting the viewer know which one is going to explode first.
It is after some of these biggest sequences, however, that the film loses steam. At a certain point, viewers will likely be ready for answers. The problem is that Tinkham’s script doesn’t always give them. Or, when it does, it over-explains. This turns it into a “waiting game” of sorts, as solutions seem so close, yet they continue to drift away.
The slow-burn status isn’t only from the pacing; it also comes from the visuals themselves. Woloson serves as the cinematographer, filling the 87-minute runtime with lengthy, unmoving scenes. There are occasional zoom-ins, pans and handheld shots, but mostly, the camera remains in place. This simplistic approach is core to its identity from the start.
“Littermates” is undoubtedly humorous in small bursts. This doesn’t come from traditional comedy beats, but rather the characters themselves. Joey Bader (Liam) and Kaylee McGregor (Mel) both deliver versatile performances. At first, they must make the audience believe that they know nothing — about anything. As their characters grow, the actors add various layers to their performances. For Bader, this includes deadpan delivery and facial expressions that you can’t help but laugh at.
“I knew it. I knew I was faster, I just wanted to see.”
McGregor, on the other hand, brings more emotional depth. Both performances rely on silence, proving to be more important than the words themselves. Also appearing is Oliver Woolf (Chester). While the story mostly revolves around Liam and Mel, Woolf is still integral. He acts as a necessary divide between the two characters, with a more assertive and direct onscreen presence.
The core ideas within “Littermates” aren’t new, but it does explore them in unique ways. The storytelling is reminiscent of Fleur Fortuné’s “The Assessment,” placing individuals within an apocalyptic world but not making that the center. Instead, the characters always remain in the spotlight. While that film featured upfront messaging about parenthood, this is kept a little more ambiguous.
“Littermates” is a dystopian tale grounded in family — or the idea of one, anyway. The film never steps outside of its small scope, despite the worldwide implications within it.
Rating: 4 out of 5
The North American premiere of “Littermates” is at the Dances with Films (DWF:LA) festival on June 21, 2026.
