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Monday, August 25, 2025

‘Terrestrial’ is a Lo-Fi Sci-Fi-Comedy of Errors [Fantasia 2025 Review]

Terrestrial

Steve Pink’s Terrestrial is a strange and charming little sci-fi of errors, one that feels both scrappy and effortless. But it’s held back by its rough edges, and while that can be fun, it ultimately thrives on personality before plot or polish.

At the center of its mayhem is rising genre icon Jermaine Fowler (The Blackening, Sting), who’s reliably fun to watch in his nuanced performance as Allen, a struggling sci-fi writer whose sudden windfall seems a little too good to be true. He’s got the mansion, the Mustang, even a shrine-like room devoted to his literary hero. But when old friends Maddie (Pauline Chalamet), Ryan (James Morosini), and Vic (Edy Modica) show up to celebrate, they find Allen in a state of paranoia and decline that doesn’t quite match his newfound success.

At first, the reunion plays like a comedy of manners. The friends can’t quite wrap their heads around Allen’s sudden wealth, and Fowler’s jittery performance makes it clear Allen can’t either. What follows is part farce, part paranoia spiral. The friends begin to suspect Allen’s success isn’t what it seems. Pink delights in stringing these questions along, sometimes to the point of over-indulgence. The house itself becomes a pressure cooker, and what starts as celebratory banter curdles into the unease of a Hollywood crime thriller.

If Terrestrial works, it’s thanks to its talented ensemble. Fowler makes a magnetic and untrustworthy protagonist, alternating between charisma and manic fragility. His nervous energy keeps Allen from becoming a cliché of the “crazy writer” archetype. Chalamet, Morosini, and Modica each bring funny yet grounded energies to the screen, their skepticism anchoring the film even as it spirals into absurdity.

This is a movie about group dynamics more than plot mechanics. The chemistry among the friends is entertaining and relatable. Are we ever really happy for anyone elses success but our own? The cast leans into Pink’s loose, semi-improvised style, and the result often feels like a mix of indie mumblecore and stoner sci-fi, more about vibe than resolution.

One of the strangest pleasures of Terrestrial is watching Steve Pink, best known for studio comedies like Hot Tub Time Machine and Accepted, step into lo-fi territory. It’s worth remembering Pink also co-wrote Grosse Pointe Blank and High Fidelity, films that married comedy with mainstream cultural pastich. Here, he seems interested in exploring both the absurdity and the futility of chasing success in Hollywood.

There’s a long tradition of indie sci-fi that makes a virtue of limited settings and small budgets — films like Primer, Coherence, or Another Earth. Terrestrial wants to belong among these classics, using its single mansion setting as both playground and trap. The problem is that the film rarely escapes the literal confines of the house. For a story about cosmic paranoia and big ideas, it feels too boxed in to a single location and idea without enough tension to sustain the metaphor.

Still, Pink injects bursts of creativity. There flashes of surrealism, offbeat dialogue, and sudden tonal shifts that suggest bigger worlds just outside the walls. These elements are enough to keep the film playful, but not enough to make it actually profound.

What makes Terrestrial frustrating is also what makes it appealing. It is original, often unpredictable, and delightfully unpolished. But the originality sometimes comes at the expense of coherence. For every clever twist or funny exchange, there are long stretches where the film feels like it’s treading water, circling the same jokes and anxieties without finding a way out.

Thematically, Pink gestures at some intriguing ideas … like the cost of ambition, the paranoia of sudden success, the fragility of artistic identity … but these remain gestures more than arguments. The gaps between the lines are wide, and the film doesn’t fill them in. Viewers are left to do a lot of the work themselves, which can be rewarding if you’re in the right mood, but alienating if you’re not.

Jermaine Fowler and the ensemble keep things afloat, while Pink proves he’s still capable of surprise outside of Hollywood’s mainstream comedy machine. Ultimately, though, the film’s unwillingness to break out of the house, either literally or thematically, keeps it from reaching the heights it aims for.

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