The Becomers
Written and Directed by Zach Clark
Starring Russell Mael, Keith Kelly, Frank V. Ross
Unrated
Runtime: 1h 26m
In theaters August 23

by Sasha Ravitch, Staff Writer

A weeping mural of putrid yellows and vermillions circling a bathtub drain. The thick gray flesh of something altogether unfamiliar. Neon blue and purple eyes seeking each other out like lamps from otherworldly lighthouses. Zach Clark’s The Becomers is an occasionally overwhelming but always enchanting exploration of love which spans galaxies and transcends bodies.

The Becomers follows two devoted alien paramours from a planet on the brink of extinction. These nameless lovers are thrown into the unpredictable miasma of modern day Illinois, making the quaintness of suburbia strange and uncanny in contrast with their alienness. As lovers slough and slide their way from one body to the next, we are treated to the slow pans and quiet zooms of undisturbed Americana. Each character is memorable, played by an actor who seemed to understand that the best independent films are full of many disparate characters creating a collage of believability. My favorite of this ensemble of characters is Gene (Frank V. Ross), who is an immaculate example of this particular type of painfully earnest and supremely sympathetic cameo. The entire midwestern landscape of the film is rich with this quality of character. This feels a deliberate (and clever) choice from Clark: we watch the aliens endeavor to camouflage their way through the unexpected surreality of their new refuge planet, hindered or helped by everyday people.

The film is exceptionally contemporary: it festoons itself with the symbols of Covid (characters wearing masks the whole time), makes an absurd show of the myriad American extremist factions with proclivities for conspiracy theories, and points a cunning finger at the corruption of local politicians. All of this clever, irreverent–but not unsubtle–commentary, is just part of a day’s work for Clark’s new film, which seems to seek to discomfit you in one moment and move you in the next. The Becomers features a dynamic score, full of moments of abrasive noise, which complement the periodic charms of the films, as well as contributes to its overarching dissonance and discomfiture. The viewer has no choice but to empathize with the intergalactic wanderers, scared, alone, desperate for their connection, endeavoring to survive no matter the cost. 

As the film proceeds, it raises a favorite question of mine raised by the great Philip K. Dick. In his essay, “Man, Android and Machine,” Dick investigates if “humanity” is really unique to humans. He posits that, ultimately, humanity is a quality of living, informed by a self-awareness around one's existential suffering, and the desire to make better choices, even–or perhaps maybe especially–at the risk of confronting whatever governing bodies may be in place. As the lovers spend more and more time occupying the bodies of their hosts, we watch Dick’s theory come to life. A desire to avoid our own or the infliction of others’ suffering is a staple of that aforementioned humanity, and the ingenuity of this film is in the way it nurtures that small and special flame. Hope has become an increasingly precious and ever-more-rare quality to find within the science fiction genre, but Clark gives us just that.

With the right amount of Ray Bradbury and a little splash of Twilight Zone, this unexpectedly tender investigation of alien love in a world of technicolor body horror is generous and inspiring. With a clean script, sincere and confident acting, sparing (and therefore effective) practical effects, a strong score, and a heartening message, The Becomers is a worthy contribution to the speculative film genre and absolutely deserving of your time.