By George & Josh Bate
Oh, capitalism. The very system that facilitates remarkable technological innovation, provides an opportunity to generate wealth and climb out of poverty, and offers ample choice for education, employment, and so on is slowly (but very surely) killing us all. What on paper is an economic system designed to liberate, in practice, actively and increasingly so restricts our autonomy and well-being. These horrors of capitalism and the modern work landscape are explored with absurd humor and topical terror in Grind, a new film making its world premiere at this year’s SXSW.
Grind is an anthology film composed of four timely vignettes that, collectively, serve as a scathing critique of the economic hamster wheel none of us can leap off of. Across the four episodic shorts, filmmakers Brea Grant, Ed Dougherty, and Chelsea Stardust lean into absurdist, satirical humor far more than horror, at least initially. The creative team land on a tone that is deliberately heightened, taking everyday jobs and evolving them into their wildest form. The humor consistently comes from just how ludicrous the different scenarios are and how seemingly unaware characters of the insanity of their jobs and the state of the world more broadly. But the horror creeps in as one realizes the wild world in which these characters exist is not as far removed from our own as we would like. No, our employer doesn’t send an axe-murderer after us if we fail to meet quota. And no, food delivery drivers aren’t trapped in an actual time loop. And yet, there’s something undeniably unsettling after arriving upon the conclusion that the various horrifying scenarios that unfold are only moderately implausible.
Like any horror anthology, Grind’s quality varies across its shorts. The first, titled “MLM,” is the weakest of the bunch and perhaps the only weak link in a surprisingly strong collective of stories. “MLM” follows a young woman named Sarah (Jessika Van) who agrees to participate in an MLM, or multilevel marketing scheme. She is tasked with selling cheap leggings but struggles to make sales. In the real world, such a scenario may lead to income being slashed, but, in the world of Grind, the consequences are far sillier and scarier. Upon missing her first quota, the penis of Sarah’s husband turns into a bluebird (yes, you read that sentence correctly), after which even more mind-boggling ramifications follow. While the short is well-conceived, it misses the mark with its humor and lacks, relative to all the other shorts, an undercurrent of horror.
Grind markedly improves as it seamlessly transitions to its next short. “Delivery” follows Benny (Vinny Thomas), a food delivery driver leaping from one low-tip delivery to the next. The monotony of delivery driving amplifies tenfold when an seemingly innocuous gig ends up trapping him in a time loop. It doesn’t take a particularly thoughtful viewer to discern what “Delivery” is trying to say about the endless repetition of food delivery driving, and yet the simplicity of its message doesn’t impede upon its effectiveness. The short is hilarious, namely due to Thomas’ nonchalant performance juxtaposing the abject terror of the situation he is in. But, as is consistent with the rest of the film, a feeling of unease slowly creeps in and co-exists side-by-side with the absurd humor. This sense of unease never evolves into downright terrifying, at least not in the traditional sense, but it delivers (pun intended) a more cerebral flavor of horror that taps into the terror of being trapped in our system of wealth inequality.
The next short, titled “Content Moderation,” stars Christopherr Rodriguez-Marquette as Joel, a lowly English major graduate desperate to find employment. His luck seems to turn around when he is interviewed by Andy (Rob Huebel) for a job that lets you pick your hours and provides free food (yay to lobster rolls!). The catch? Before securing the dream job, Joel has to work as a content moderator for a trial period. Tasked with sifting through millions of horrendously disturbing and violent videos, Joel slowly loses his grip on reality, all in the pursuit of a job that will help him pay the bills.
Backed by a more comedic performance brilliantly attuned to an increasingly horrifying occupation from Rodriguez-Marquette, “Content Moderation” is certainly the most unnerving of Grind’s shorts, namely due to the nature of its premise. Joel watches videos of terrorist beheadings, violent car crashes, fatal accidents, and more, all of which the viewer catches quick glimpses of and subsequently fills in the gaps with our dark imagination. Like its predecessor, “Content Moderation” nails the satirical humor, with pointed commentary about what horrors people are willing to expose themselves to for a paycheck, before slowly allowing the true terror of such a situation to settle in.
Titled “Union Meeting,” the final short of Grind tracks the immediate aftermath of the unionization of an all too familiar coffee shop. Indicative of the filmmakers’ broader approach to satire, the short does not shy away from its overt references to real-life companies. In this case, Starbucks is firmly in the crosshairs – down to the color of the logo and the fact that it features a mermaid. This short ties into the opening and closing scenes of the film, which introduce a mysterious black box. Over the course of a tumultuous night, the employees at this coffee shop (one of whom is played by Dead Meat’s James A. Janisse) deliberate about the decision to unionize until the black box arrives at their storefront and all hell breaks loose.
“Union Meeting” reflects Grind’s willingness to dip into various subgenres of horror. Whereas “MLM” touches on the slasher subgenre, “Delivery” evokes the horrors of a time loop, and “Content Moderation” dabbles in the tone of video nasty, “Union Meeting” goes full-on creature feature. The make-up effects to bring said creature to life are incredible, especially for a lower budget film like this.
VERDICT: 7/10
Making its world premiere at SXSW 2026, Grind scathingly critiques capitalism and our work-obsessed culture through a four-part horror-comedy anthology. The film from directors Brea Grant, Ed Dougherty, and Chelsea Stardust land on a tone that is deliberately heightened, taking everyday jobs and evolving them into their wildest form. While this comes at the detriment of more overt scares, it gives way to a brilliant fusion of absurdist satire and bold commentary, before the horror creeps in as one realizes the wild world in which these characters exist is not as far removed from our own as we would like. As is the case with any horror anthology, Grind’s shorts vary in quality. “MLM,” the weakest of the bunch, misfires with its blend of horror and humor, but the subsequent three shorts excel with inventive premises, absurd comedy, and an embrace of various subgenres of horror. On the surface, the world in which Grind takes place is so exaggerated and ludicrous that it renders the film a more effective comedy than piece of horror cinema. However, real disconcertment begins to kick in as each of the four shorts resolve and leave the viewer reckoning with how all the wild events we’ve just seen are only moderately implausible. In that sense, Grind is scarier than most horror movies.
