Heading into my initial viewing of Shadow Brother Sunday I was aware of the idea of Alden Ehrenreich. The young American star, making his writer/director debut with this short, is known for playing a young Han Solo in one major franchise tentpole and for a series of interesting supporting roles in big films from celebrated directors like Christopher Nolan, Francis Ford Coppola, and the Coens. Despite this success, my onscreen relationship with his work was so limited that, as transfixed as I was by the character of Cole in this short film and as admiring as I am of the performance driving it, I did not recognize Ehrenreich in the lead role of his own short film.
This is, clearly, more of a “me problem” than anything else—mining for gold relentlessly in the short films hills has meant that my exposure to mainstream cinema is more limited than I would like to admit. It is also in no way an attempt to “neg” Ehrenreich for a filmography that has established him as one of Hollywood’s most interesting emerging actors. Instead, I offer the observation to preempt potential criticism of today’s pick as a clout-chasing selection, one that robs a potential unknown of a valuable career opportunity in favor of an established star’s vanity project. To be exceedingly clear from the outset this is not that—Shadow Brother Sunday, a short that combines elements of Shakespearean tragedy with contemporary family drama, wrapped in the form of a heist-thriller, is truly an excellent, excellent film.
Ehrenreich plays Cole, a sad-sack manager for a band. Depressed, overweight, and strapped for cash, he is present at a family reunion celebrating his younger brother Jacob (Nick Robinson), who is about to premiere a big, potentially career-making movie. In the shadow of his sibling’s success, a maelstrom of envy, shame, resentment, and greed envelops Cole as he plans to use the occasion to swipe his brother’s laptop, selling its contents to the celebrity gossip industry for a rich sum in order to pull himself out of debt and kickstart his flagging career ambitions. Will he be discovered, his pathetic treachery exposed? Can Cole himself go through with such a betrayal?
Shadow Brother Sunday, befitting of its creator, is an actor-centric work—the film emerged from Ehrenreich imagining the climactic scene between the brothers, rippling out from that point of inspiration—but is, nonetheless, exceptionally structured and crafted. The 15min short does not waste time, sprinting through the logline premise within the first minute as Cole fields a call from his paparazzo contact about the already-planned heist. You feel in assured hands throughout, with the plot unspooling in a causal fashion as various interactions develop and add context to Cole’s motivations while challenging his determination to see the scheme through. Supporting performances from the likes of Nick Searcy as the brothers’ Dad provide rich drama, and no one scene outstays its welcome.
However, while the film flows pleasurably, it would be remiss of me to suggest that the film is an easy watch. I, like many, am shy towards cringe, and while tonally the film is not what we associate with the deep embarrassment that fuels cringe, the stakes of Cole’s gambit—the potential humiliation and shame that would accompany the discovery of his plot—is so large that the taut thriller-esque tension of the short was at times almost unbearable to me.
That admission is, itself, a testament to Ehrenreich’s effectiveness in developing the character. While the protagonist of the story, he is also the villain of the piece. A character whose own inadequacies professionally and morally lead him toward a monstrous decision, Ehrenreich’s brusque magnetism must be credited in the early going for fostering audience connection to a character that could otherwise be dismissed as deplorable. From that initial beachhead of empathy, a more nuanced portrait emerges via the family dynamic. It is fitting that we are featuring this film during Thanksgiving week, an American holiday well-known for inspiring discord.
“I wanted that family to burst onto the screen and feel real”
Ehrenreich took great care in preproduction to foster this aspect of the story, spending four days improvising family memories with the cast, as they communally imagined scenes from the characters’ childhoods: dinners, birthdays, arguments, etc, noting, “I wanted that family to burst onto the screen and feel real,” so that audiences would encounter, “…a family in full bloom at the beginning of the film, engaged in all the micro-dynamics, relationships, feelings, that make up any family.”
This authenticity colors our perception of Cole. The character grew from Ehrenreich’s experience seeing people he grew up with fail to achieve professional success, observing that “there seemed, sometimes, to be no place for them in LA,” and how “their feeling of worthlessness can lead to resentment and ruin relationships.” This theme is dramatized via the family interactions as Cole is berated by a fed-up father and hectored by a beseeching mother. This complicated stew is exemplified in a key scene late in the film where Cole’s alienation is solidified not through hostility but instead condescending sympathy, injuring his fragile pride, and cementing his resolve. Often these sorts of dramas that hinge on a moral dilemma write themselves into a corner and finish in an anti-climax. I won’t spoil it, but let me reveal that Ehrenreich ends the film perfectly.
Shadow Brother Sunday is ably produced by Natalie Metzger of Vanishing Angle, a company familiar to short film fans for their extensive work in the medium with shorts from some of our faves like Jim Cummings, Dawn Luebbe, and Danny Madden. Special praise must also be allocated for the cinematography, where the decision was made for Ben Mullen to shoot on 35mm film. A class production all-around the film premiered at Tribeca before picking up awards at Indy Shorts, Charlotte, and Salute Your Shorts. It has come online in time for award season and is eligible for Oscar. The combination of technical excellence, terrific performances, and Ehrenreich’s star power could make this a film we continue to talk about in 2025 leading up to the ceremony.