According to a March 2024 report, the leading cause of death for Americans in 2022 (the most recent year with full data) was all types of heart disease with cancers in second place. Advancements in early detection and treatment of cancers today are lightyears ahead of where they were even 20 years ago, resulting in a diagnosis not being the potential death sentence it once was. That said, it doesn’t mean that there aren’t concerns, consequences, or adaptions that need to be made once in remission. Science being science, work in one area can sometimes lead to discoveries in others, like when the AI system BakeryScan was developed to help track and predict purchase patterns and inventory needs in bakeries in Japan and the shapes of some of the pastries programmed were very similar to the shapes of some cancers, resulting in the development of a system that could more quickly and more accurately identify whether a cell was cancerous than existing techniques. This is a corner stone element writer/director Calvin Lee Reeder (The Field Guide to Evil; The Rambler) borrows for his latest project, the horror thriller The A-Frame, having its world premiere during Tribeca Film Festival 2024. A blend of David Cronenberg (The Fly) and John Carpenter (The Thing), The A-Frame is a twisty, silly, goopy, sci-fi ride whose vibe implies deep quantum consequences which it doesn’t entirely deliver on.
L-R: Johnny Whitworth as Sam and Dana Namerode as Donna in THE A-FRAME. Photo courtesy of Tribeca film Festival.
Having recently learned of a cancer diagnosis, acceptance of treatment and potential recovery hit Donna (Dana Namerode) like seismic waves. Though desperate for good news, when she’s approached by quantum scientist Sam (Johnny Whitworth) with an offer that might reverse her prognosis, Donna is skeptical — a good trait when someone approaches you out of the blue with more information than they should have. But once trust is developed, Donna learns that Sam isn’t as unbelievable as he seems; however, time will tell if putting theory into practice will result in a cure or something far worse.
It’s very clear from several elements that Reeder is a horror nerd (written as lovingly and affectionately as possible). Only such an individual could create a film that balances the drama of human desperation, the dangers of hubris, and the ethical quandaries of advanced and unapproved science, so well, while also invoking stories and performances of old, and make it work. Rather than spoon-feed his audience, Reeder structures things so that we know who the main characters are, what drives them, and from where their internal desperation comes from without the need for exposition. Instead, we’re dropped right into the narrative and, through smart scene structure and tension-development, all the answers we need on why Donna’s specific form of cancer matters to her beyond the diagnosis, how she’s responding to the diagnosis, and what she’s done to treat it, all while introducing the audience to side characters like Nik Dodani’s Rishi and Laketa Caston’s Linda in ways that naturally bring them into Donna’s life and keep them there so that their inclusion in the story remains significant for both Donna and us. This way, when Sam is introduced and his offer extended, there’s real weight within the opportunity, Namerode’s performance helping to convey the struggle to balance the hope of reclamation and the reasonable skepticism of such an unbelievable offer. Science fiction is really just science we don’t understand how to make work yet, so a cure for cancer may exist and Donna’s asked to put aside her skepticism in order to believe in the possibility — a massive difficulty for anyone, not just a fictional character, to grapple with.
Wisely, as a film that’s as much body horror entertainment as it is ethical challenge, Reeder’s choice to give us a potential savior in the form of Sam comes with a series of lures and warnings. The first comes in the presentation of Sam, who channels Kurt Russell’s McCready (The Thing), operating with a sense of control and enthusiasm that makes audiences lean into the character when he speaks. The character speaks with a sort of unabashed honesty, explaining the science with infectious fervor (whether you understand it or not) and seems to come from a place of altruistic pragmatism. Reeder bakes in plenty of evidence of this into the character which Whitworth’s delivery brings to life, walking a razorblade between dark comedy, heartfelt sincerity, and cold science, leaving the audience to choose for themselves the truth of Sam’s intent. This, among several surprises, makes The A-Frame a deliciously dark good time that’ll keep you wondering from start to finish.
Where the film struggles, however, is in the blending of visual language (which creates the sci-fi thriller vibe) and the execution that conveys a conflict of intention or, at the very least, a discord between finished film and audience expectation. The visual elements that Reeder uses are compelling, making the concepts of string theory and multiversal theory manifest through sequences featuring mirror landscapes, inverted objects engaging with verted objects, or just utilizing set design that looks like a repeated pattern. Each of these things only begins to take hold within the visual presentation of the film when Donna engages with Sam’s offer, thereby raising questions as to what it is we’re watching unfold. When Reeder implemented a Chekov’s Gun situation, this reviewer reveled in it, especially as accomplished by Donna; however, that’s a bit of tease and delivery whereas the visual elements seem to be just that. There’s an opportunity for the film to go deeper, to utilize the science fiction setup for more, and it’s difficult to discern if this is intentional or an unforeseen by-product. Because of the mirroring and the overlapping of repeated images of, for instance, Donna in her treatment (especially after a speech on cross-dimensional travel or multiverses), a sense that this will be important only grows as the tension does and, yet, there’s not a single payoff in that way. Again, expectation versus actual tale. But by using the tropes and visual elements that he does, the filmmaker basically sets the film up to talk about one thing while side-stepping it to do another. Even though the climax of the film is beautifully executed, resulting in a great deal of audience satisfaction, the questions one may have when the credits roll aren’t on the science or on the implications, but more like “why is this character driving this vehicle?” when there’s no apparent connection between the narrative up to that point and the choice we observe.
Johnny Whitworth as Sam in THE A-FRAME. Photo courtesy of Tribeca film Festival. from THE A-FRAME. Photo courtesy of Tribeca Film Festival.
The A-Frame delivers on its promise of a thrilling sci-fi adventure thanks in large part to Namerode and Whitworth’s performances and the execution of Reeder’s vision, resulting in an almost ‘80s synth thriller throwback. Additionally, the world feels grounded, so that even when things escalate (as all horror films must), it’s not unnaturally so. Moreover, the execution of said escalation is so hilariously gross in construction that no audience is going to walk away without some sense of delightful disgust. More than that, when it waxes philosophic about life, death, and the what we do in between, there’s honest intention as well as suitable rage beneath it.
Screening during Tribeca Film Festival 2024.
In theaters July 25th, 2025.
Available on digital August 5th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official Tribeca 2024 The A-Frame webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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