It’s easy for a film about military veterans to fall into familiar patterns. Many movies center on the hardships of war, the brutality of combat, and the trauma that lingers long after the fighting is over. While those stories are undeniably important, what often gets lost in the mix is the humanity of the people behind the uniforms - their friendships, their humor, their ability to find moments of lightness even in the darkest situations. My Dead Friend Zoe understands this, and it thrives in that space. Director Kyle Hausmann-Stokes crafts a film that walks a delicate tightrope, balancing grief, guilt, and PTSD with a profound amount of heart and humor. It’s not an easy balance to strike, but the film does so with ease and confidence, resulting in an intimate and affecting drama about the weight of loss and the importance of opening up.
Sonequa Martin-Green (Star Trek: Discovery, The Walking Dead) leads the film as Merit, an Afghanistan veteran struggling to re-adjust to civilian life. She’s closed off, reluctant to engage in the group therapy sessions led by Dr. Cole (Morgan Freeman), and generally resistant to letting anyone in. But Merit is never truly alone - she’s constantly accompanied by her best friend, Zoe (Natalie Morales). The problem? Zoe isn’t alive. It’s established early on that Zoe is no longer in the realm of the living during scenes in the present day, but rather than simply existing in flashbacks, she sticks around as a sarcastic, ever-present ghost. More than just comedic relief, Zoe represents the voice inside Merit’s head - the self-doubt, the guilt, the memories she can’t shake. Their banter is funny, but it’s also deeply revealing, peeling back the layers of Merit’s pain without spelling everything out.
One of the film’s smartest choices is its restrained approach to PTSD. Rather than leaning into dramatic breakdowns or explosive trauma responses, it conveys Merit’s struggles through small moments - subtle stressors that pile up over time. Flashbacks to Afghanistan are interwoven seamlessly with Merit’s present-day life, with some of the most effective sequences coming during her daily runs. As the score swells, she pushes herself harder and harder, the past creeping in through quick cuts and fragmented memories of Zoe. It’s a strong visual representation of her internal battle, one that never feels overplayed.
At the heart of My Dead Friend Zoe is Merit’s relationship with her grandfather, Dale, played by the legendary Ed Harris in a quietly tremendous performance. A Vietnam veteran in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, Dale serves as both a reflection and a contrast to Merit’s experience. The film doesn’t hammer home the generational differences between their wars, but it subtly highlights how certain struggles - particularly the difficulty of talking about pain - remain universal. Dale isn’t just a gruff, old-school figure; he’s layered and complicated, carrying his own ghosts even as his memory starts to slip away. The scenes between Martin-Green and Harris are some of the film’s strongest, filled with unspoken emotions that slowly start to surface as the two reconnect.
Merit’s journey takes her to Dale’s isolated cabin in Oregon, where she meets Alex (Utkarsh Ambudkar), a worker at the retirement home she’s considering for Dale. Their budding relationship introduces another layer to the story - one that isn’t about grand romance, but about Merit learning to let someone in again. It’s a lean but effective subplot, reinforcing the film’s central idea that healing comes from connection, from talking, from allowing yourself to move forward even when the past refuses to let go.
The film builds its emotional core around the slow reveal of what really happened to Zoe. It’s not played as a twist but as a gradual unraveling, one that recontextualizes Merit’s guilt and deepens the story’s impact. It’s a testament to the film’s strong writing that it holds back just enough, letting the weight of that reveal land naturally. By the time everything comes into focus, it doesn’t just serve as a narrative turning point - it’s the moment where we truly understand Merit, her grief, and what’s been holding her back.
Musically, the film is well-attuned to its emotional beats. The score by Dan Romer (Beasts of the Southern Wild, Luca) is understated for much of the runtime, but it peaks at just the right moments, particularly during its most cathartic sequences. Music also plays a key role in the bond between Merit and Zoe and even Dale as well, from their in-the-moment car jam sessions to the songs that trigger memories of their time together. These small touches add to the film’s authenticity, making their friendship feel lived-in and real.
Much of the film’s success comes down to Martin-Green, who delivers a phenomenal performance. Merit is a character defined by her inability to express what she’s feeling, which means that so much of the performance rests on her eyes, her body language, the moments where she holds back. It’s a quietly powerful portrayal, one that makes her eventual breakthroughs all the more impactful.
In the end, My Dead Friend Zoe is about more than just one veteran’s struggle - it’s about what it means to carry loss, to feel like you owe something to the people who are no longer with you, and to finally allow yourself to live despite that weight. It’s a story about family, about the people who understand even when you don’t have the words to explain. And most importantly, it’s a film about the power of talking - about how saying something, anything, can be the first step toward healing. For a movie that could have easily leaned into formulaic territory, it instead finds something honest, heartfelt, and, at times, even hopeful. That’s a rare thing, and it makes My Dead Friend Zoe well worth seeking out.
'My Dead Friend Zoe' releases in theaters February 28th 2025.
