Friend of the World Is a Surreal Descent Into Post-Apocalyptic Madness
Ever wondered what happens when society falls apart, and you’re left to pick up the pieces? It’s a question countless films, shows, and books have tried to answer, but rarely with the offbeat intensity of Friend of the World. With his experimental debut feature, writer-director Brian Butler dives headfirst into the end of the world and comes back with something gritty, unsettling, and uniquely personal. At just 50 minutes, this indie sci-fi horror film wastes no time on bombastic action or tidy exposition, opting instead to explore two people stuck in the aftermath of the apocalypse and the psychological toll that comes with surviving it.
The story kicks off with Diane Keaton (played by Alexandra Slade—not that Diane Keaton), who wakes up in a locked, corpse-filled underground bunker. Not exactly the wake-up call anyone wants. Whatever happened tops the worst-case scenario list: global catastrophe, a war, a plague, and possibly a zombie outbreak. The details are murky, but honestly, that’s the point. Diane doesn’t know how she got there, and neither do we. What we do know is that she’s alone and fighting for her life in a world that’s literally and metaphorically gone to hell.

But solitude doesn’t last long. Enter Gore (Nick Young), a gruff, unpredictable ex-military survivalist who crashes into Diane’s world with the force of a nuclear bomb. He’s got the supplies, the weapons, and the antidote to whatever virus is turning people into flesh-hungry monsters. But he’s also got major issues. Paranoid, foul-mouthed, and constantly toeing the line between comedic relief and total menace, Gore becomes Diane’s unlikely (and frankly unwanted) companion in survival.
Their dynamic is immediately tense, made worse by Gore’s crude jokes and abrasive personality. He doesn’t shy away from invasive questions or inappropriate comments, including some aimed at Diane’s sexuality. Because yes, Diane’s a lesbian and previously had a girlfriend named Eve.
And here’s where the film offers something really interesting in its portrayal of queerness. Diane’s sexuality isn’t just an afterthought; it’s an integral part of her identity, shaping her interactions with Gore and, arguably, her entire worldview. In this post-apocalyptic hellscape, it becomes another point of tension. Gore’s crude, performative masculinity contrasts sharply with Diane’s composed resilience and quiet defiance. Their dynamic is hostile, laced with suspicion and power struggles, but also deeply fascinating to watch. It’s rare to see a queer woman at the center of a sci-fi horror story, especially one who’s not fighting to survive because of her sexuality, but simply because she is who she is.

But anygays, once Gore gives Diane the so-called antidote, things spiral fast. The drug has hallucinogenic side effects, and suddenly Diane isn’t just trying to survive the world outside, she’s battling the unreliability of her own mind. Is that a memory? A vision? A delusion? The film leans hard into the surreal, blurring the lines between truth and madness, inner torment and external horror. Friend of the World wants us disoriented, and it succeeds.
Visually, the film’s black-and-white cinematography reinforces that sense of disconnection. The lack of color doesn’t just make the gore feel more dreamlike, it puts us in Diane’s headspace. We’re cut off from the past, and even when glimpses of her previous life flicker in, they feel like fragments from a lost film. It’s haunting. It’s lonely.
Structurally, the film leans into its experimental nature, divided into five chapters that trace Diane and Gore’s descent into paranoia, distrust, and survival-mode ethics. It’s a narrative that resists easy plotting. We’re not following a clear arc so much as navigating a psychological maze. The film feels as much like performance art as it does cinema, and we mean that in the best way possible. It’s a mood piece, an anxiety dream, and a low-budget genre experiment rolled into one. And yes, it’s weird. Intentionally so.
Friend of the World isn’t about epic stakes or saving humanity. It’s about two wildly different people thrown together at the end of the world, trying to figure out what survival even means. But we’ll be honest: this isn’t a film for everyone. If you’re in the mood for fast-paced action or big-budget spectacle, you’re not going to find that here. The film is low on polish but high on atmosphere. Its strengths lie in its willingness to get weird, to dwell in ambiguity, and to trust the audience to sit with discomfort.
Butler’s take is less of a traditional post-apocalyptic movie and more of a grim, hallucinatory character study. It’s short, strange, and a little rough around the edges. But if you’re into experimental storytelling and indie sci-fi that values mood over exposition, Friend of the World is well worth your time. Just don’t expect it to hand you answers. Like the world it depicts, this film is more about navigating chaos than understanding it.
Friend of the World is available to stream with ads on Tubi, Plex, Filmzie, and Fawesome. It’s also available on demand on Prime Video and Apple TV+ (depending on the region). Follow us on X and Instagram for all queer stuff!
Featured Image: Image Courtesy of Charybdis Pictures.