Written and directed by Sarah Pirozek
Starring Sarah Rich, Marc Menchaca, Samantha Nicole Dunn, and Dakota Lustick
Unrated – language, adult themes, a sexual assault
Runtime: 1 hour 33 minutes
Available for digital rental Jan 26

by Audrey Callerstrom

You’ll have to overlook the title to Sarah Pirozek’s feature-length debut. Do we say “Like,” or is it “Hashtag Like?” Additionally, the plot’s synopsis on IMDB shares an important plot point that’s left vague for the film’s first hour.  Given the one-sentence explanation, I went in expecting a specific kind of film, one that front-loaded a lot of exposition and let things play out from there. It ended up being more thoughtful than I had anticipated, although the script could have used another set of eyes.

#Like is a successor to films like Hard Candy and The Business of Strangers, where a young woman takes a man hostage for crimes he may or may not have committed. Although the film opens with moments of joy as Rosie (Sarah Rich) practices cheerleading routines, we see that a dark cloud hovers over her family. It has been one year since the death of Rosie’s younger sister, Amelia (Samantha Nicole Dunn). She was 13. On the anniversary of Amelia’s death, she finds a message on Amelia’s Facebook calling her a “slut” (for trademark reasons, Facebook is never referenced and the logo isn’t shown, but it’s Facebook). She correctly guesses Amelia’s password and starts chatting with the individual who wrote the post, picking up clues as to who it could be. She suspects he has something to do with Amelia’s death. Rosie’s pleas for help to the local police are shot down, so she starts looking for the man on her own. 

It’s unclear if we’re to believe that Rosie is stealthy or foolish when she tracks down and captures the man (Marc Menchaca, Alone and Netflix’s Ozark). The similarities are a bit too broad. He also likes to play loud rock music, like the man online. He has a dreamcatcher on his rearview mirror; Amelia made dreamcatchers. I recently saw Menchaca as a serial killer in Alone. Here, his character is more nuanced, and he’s given more to do with it. We see his vulnerability as well as his dark side. We’re even afraid for him. Rosie captures the man by drugging him and tying him up with chains and zip ties. How a small town teenager was able to suddenly come up with this whole plan is never explained. We never see her creating this plan, or have any insight into what’s going on in her head as she starts interrogating and torturing him. There’s a morbid side of Rosie that surfaces as she starts torturing the man that is inconsistent with other moments we see from the character. Sarah Rich pulls it off, and we don’t question the transition, but it doesn’t quite fit. It feels like there are pieces missing from the puzzle.

Sarah Rich, a dead ringer for Lily James, is the only actor listed in opening credits (as “introducing”), and rightfully so. She carries the film wonderfully, even when dialogue starts to creek at times like an unstable bridge. Rosie interrogates the man as though he represents all misogynists, poking him to reveal his deepest secrets. These moments start to loop, and Rosie doesn’t mention her sister to him until almost an hour into the film. Why would she withhold that information? Rich and Menchaca play off each other very well in such a limited space, much like a play. This is the feature-length debut from writer/director Sarah Pirozek, and she is skilled at bringing us into this world of modern-day teens. Rosie and her friends look, act, and talk all like real kids (I assume/fear). Pirozek also excels at bringing us into this small town world. I’m not certain where it was filmed, but this certainly feels like a small east coast town. Roads are quiet, and in the summers all you hear are trees and insect chatter. 

In addition to some minor gaps in the script, #Like is a film that starts at the midway point of the story. The explanation of what happened with Amelia’s death raises questions. Evidently cyberbullying was involved with Amelia’s death, and I imagine the audience is supposed to shake their head about how bad cyberbullying is these days. In reality, we’re more concerned about the support network in Amelia’s life, and how something like this would push such a young girl over the edge. If the film spent some time with Amelia and Rosie, and we saw what happened with Amelia, the evolution of what happens with Rosie would have been a better transition. It would have been gruesome to start there, but it might have made for a stronger, more cohesive film.