Film Review: Tyrel

Tyrel is a film that is unfairly going to be compared to Jordan Peele’s Get Out, which only shares the similarity of involving a black man going to a remote house with the company of all white people. The context is far more different, not to mention significantly toned down compared to the wild and subversive genre thrills of Peele’s horror film.

Though, if I’m being honest, the mundane nightmare scenario of Tyrel hits far more close to home. It’s about two friends, Johnny (Christopher Abbott) and Tyler (Jason Mitchell), go out to a secluded cabin where they join Johnny’s other friends for a guy’s weekend get-together. Things seem fine enough, but Tyler soon feels alienated as the vacation goes on.

If you’re looking for anything more, plot-wise, you’ll be disappointed. Tyrel is designed as a plotless hangout movie where we soak in the characters, and their various dynamics over the course of the film. Though, it’s focused squarely on Tyler’s experience, as he gets more and more uncomfortable by the shenanigans and unchecked casual racism you’d see in self-described liberal white people. The title itself comes from an initial misunderstanding where some of Johnny’s friends mistakenly called Tyler “Tyrel.”

The film is from writer/director, Sebastián Silva, who has a decade of work under his belt. He’s an openly gay Chilean man, which might make one question if this is his story to tell, but the film operates on a wavelength that allows any person from a marginalized community who has found themselves being the only one minority in an all white setting can relate to. As someone who gets anxious in most social settings, and have been in plenty of events where I was the only minority, the film does capture that anxiety in an authentic way.

The film has a solid roster of supporting players, aside from the main two, including Caleb Landry-Jones, Michael Cera, Roddy Bottum, Michael Zegen, among others. They work off each other very well, developing that believable sense of obnoxiously bro-y camaraderie. Though, to no one’s surprise, Jason Mitchell really shines here. He’s easily one of the best actors working today, and he does stellar work here. It’s subtle, and if you’ve ever been in the kind of position he’s in, you recognize the look in his face and his eyes. Reg E. Cathey also shows up for a brief moment, marking his last onscreen performance, which is rather bittersweet, and he makes the most out of his limited time.

Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure what point the whole experience is building up to. It clearly wants to say something about race relations, especially when in the company of people who would describe themselves as progressive, but I’m not sure what it is that it wants to say, and who it’s saying it for. There’s a truthfulness to the awkward and isolating experience that Tyler is going through, but it’s not totally clear to what end is that truth meant to comment on. Tyler doesn’t seem to go through much of an arc, and there doesn’t seem to be any significant change among the other party-goers.

There are aspects of Tyrel that I like a lot. It captures a specific anxiety that I can relate to, there’s a few moments that are subtly tense and even amusing, and Jason Mitchell is, of course, an astounding performer who brings a lot of empathy and vulnerability to the role. However, as a whole, it’s rather underwhelming. It doesn’t seem to say anything interesting or new about the kind of microaggressions that people of color experience in all white spaces, and it certainly never confronts it in any cathartic way. As slice-of-life cinema goes, the actors are able to keep it engaging, but despite touching on timely themes, it’s not going to stick with you.