Like a cross between Office Space and Tales from the Crypt, Grind is an anthology film directed by Brea Grant, Ed Dougherty, and Chelsea Stardust that skewers modern gig work with the kind of incisive satire-horror we haven't seen in years.
The pedigree behind the lens is to die for: Grannt is a multi-hyphenate talent whose previous film, Torn Hearts, was a fantastic mix of Americana and Psycho, while Stardust is beloved around these parts for her instant cult classic debut, Satanic Panic.
Grind plays out through three interconnected stories, each skewering a different aspect of the nightmarish gig economy we exist in. At first, we follow warehouse worker Maria (Mercedes Mason), who is behind on her work. As a result, the bosses at her megacorporation send her a sealed box. Let's just say it is not a gift.
Elsewhere, Sarah (Jessika Van) hustles online as a sales rep for a cheap leggings company. The only problem is, her stock isn't moving. She, too, faces consequences of oblique and malicious fineprint in her contract. At first, her husband's penis turns into a little blue bird. Food loses flavor. Finally, she is visited by a demented monstrosity called the Ax Man. All the while, her colleagues treat this as the only abnormal thing is that Sarah didn't read the contract more closely.
Across town, Benny (Vinny Thomas) delivers fast food to a complacent and ungrateful customer base. One of his stops is at a nondescript industrial complex, where he must deliver something that may or may not be food.
There's the story of Joel (Christopher Marquette), who works as a content moderator for a company that promises an exquisite perk package just as soon as he hits the moderation quota. As the horrific videos pile up, Joel starts to lose grasp of reality, even as he insists the money is only a couple more views away.
Finally, there's a story of a small cafe, where the workers attempt to unionize in the late hours of the night. Unluckily for them, their manager has direct access to the cafe's video feed, and he has other plans for their socialist schemes.
Is it subtle? Absolutely not. But, by Alanis, it shouldn't be. Nothing about the present is normal, and there's a level of absurdity we have to cross just to hit the insanity we face in our everyday lives. For the most part, Grind rises to that expectation beautifully. At its best, it is as incisive and acerbic as you'd hope. By ramping things up to eleven, it highlights inherent truths about the malicious system built around us.
As a result, Grind is often disturbing, occasionally gross, and always funny.
Directed by Grant, Stardust, and Ed Dougherty, Grind keeps up the momentum surprisingly well. The stories flow naturally into a unified whole, and the film never stutters in transition from one to the next. It avoids the perils of other anthology films thanks to a strong hook, which pays off wonderfully by the end.
Like its inspirations, especially Tales from the Crypt, Grind is a fresh take on classic storytelling. It's just on the right side of creepy and funny that neither overpowers the other. You could easily imagine it as the heightened logical step of friends venting after work about their nightmarish shifts. Like all great satire, it roots itself in relatability, which makes even the most ludicrous moments work.
