Disrepair

Disrepair hit me in a way few movies do. Not because of flashy effects or a twisty plot, but because of how raw and honest it felt. Watching Jake Thomas try to rebuild his life after years of addiction was incredibly moving. The film doesn't sugarcoat the damage caused, but it also doesn't let you forget the hope that comes with trying again.

A friend of mine went through something very similar, and she said this was the first time she saw her struggle reflected so truthfully on screen. The performances were powerful, especially in the quiet moments where Jake faces his past. Disrepair isn't just about addiction-it's about the messy, painful, and courageous work of healing.

The film really got to me because I've lived through something similar. Jake's fight to stay sober and fix things with his family felt so real. Like the movie was pulling scenes straight from my life.

I loved how honest it was. Addiction isn't some dramatic movie plot here; it's just hard, ugly, and exhausting, just like in real life. Jake doesn't magically get better overnight. He messes up, he hurts people, and he has to work for every bit of progress. The way his family doesn't just forgive him right away felt true to me. Trust takes time to rebuild.

The acting was good, especially Jake. You could see the guilt and hope in his eyes. Every awkward conversation with his family, every moment where they don't know whether to believe him again. Just like in real life.

If you've ever dealt with addiction (yours or someone else's), this movie will mean something to you. It's not flashy or over-the-top. Just real, painful, and sometimes hopeful. One of the more interesting films I've seen in a long time because it actually understands the problem.

I might question some parts of the movie itself but....... it's the story that spoke to me.

Disrepair is a raw, emotional triumph that grabs you by the heart and refuses to let go. Matthew Sauvé crafts a deeply moving story that feels both intimate and universally resonant. From the very first frame, the film immerses you in a world of vulnerability, isolation, and the quiet strength of the human spirit.

The cinematography is stunning - every shot feels purposeful, echoing the main character's emotional state with breathtaking precision. The use of light and shadow adds a poetic layer to the already gripping narrative. Sauvé's direction is both delicate and daring, handling complex themes with a maturity and grace rarely seen in modern cinema.

The performances are extraordinary. The lead delivers a quiet intensity that speaks volumes even in silence. It's a performance rooted in truth, and it stays with you long after the credits roll.

What truly sets Disrepair apart is its honesty. It doesn't shy away from pain, but it never exploits it either. It's a reminder of how film can be art - not just entertainment, but a mirror to our souls.

This isn't just a film - it's an experience. One that lingers, one that matters.

Bravo, Matthew Sauvé. Disrepair is a must-watch.

I feel that those who struggled to see the vision may be those in society who expect perfection at every turn, and nothing less. Those who are never satisfied. Which is in a way ironic, because for me, that is part of the polarization of the reality in this short series: that the picture perfect outcome isn't easily attainable. If at all, ever.

We watch the main character's inability to recover fully, with a hope that he finally "gets it" and begins to turn a corner. Frustratingly, he fails - miserably, and his effort is (respectfully) pathetic to a degree. He sees the house burn down around him, and takes comfort in the flame rather than flee for safety, attempt to put it out, save the others in the house...anything! Isn't that exactly what so many go through as they face their version of their addiction or bad habit? Is it not relatable that those around him have their own struggles that are at times magnified or diminished by their main character who often steals the 'spotlight'?

That the story comes to an end, without resolution, and leaves an ambiguous open ending is, to me, very much reminiscent to what real life is: messy, uncertain, and noncommittal. That was the takeway and what made the story of this family's struggle to simply exist peacefully very much relatable.

As far as constructive criticism for the production itself- could there have been some improvement of the visual direction of some scenes? Sure. Could the dialogue also tighten up in some areas? Yes. I found it out of touch for the negative reviews to be as markedly stern as they were. The story wasn't difficult to follow along to, and there was a qualitative value in the frustration felt as a viewer, towards the characters. Which, again, I felt was intentional. Some not-so-perfect people are having to pull up for an even moreso not-so-great person in order to make all of their lives bearable. THAT'S real life. And it's what I came to appreciate after having watched. I wanted to see what became of these brothers. But we don't get that. Which again, is very much how life is: appreciate what you have while you have it, even if it's incomplete.

Congratulations to the cast, crew, and creators.

5/10

This review is 100% my own and not written by the filmmakers, friends or family.

While Disrepair aims to explore a serious topic, it doesn't quite succeed in delivering the emotional depth it needs. The characters feel like they're stuck in a loop, and they fail to engage, making it difficult to stay invested. It's hard to feel any kind of empathy when the characters come across as wooden and disinterested. There don't appear to be any redeeming character qualities for us to grab onto and root for. No one is looking for a super happy ending here with a story like this but we need something to root for and if the characters come off disinterested, so can the audience. Addiction is a struggle people must fight with for the rest of their lives. Maybe it's just a casting issue. Perhaps stronger actors could have made it more believable.

It feels like the show is dragging out every single scene, making what could've been a powerful moment just drag on and on until you lose interest. I get that they're trying to build tension and attempt to show real life but instead it just feels like a slog.

Some performances don't help, either. No character really gives that emotional punch that you'd expect from a show about addiction. Any attempts at an emotional punch felt like it was being overly pushed onto the audience. I will admit though, the ex-wife character almost had some decent moments and seemed to be one of the more believable actors.

In the end, Disrepair feels like it's trying to be deeper than it actually is. It's predictable.