Union County’ review: Will Poulter anchors intimate addiction drama set in rural Ohio

Dir/scr: Adam Meeks. US. 2025. 97 mins

In writer/director Adam Meeks’ feature debut, Will Poulter plays an opioid abuser whose emotions have seemingly been sanded off, leaving only a husk of a human trying to rebuild himself. Union County is a spare drama about the slow road to recovery, and the story is populated by real-life members of an Ohio treatment centre who are undergoing the same journey as the film’s protagonist. This heartfelt picture can be overly familiar, but Poulter’s intensely interior performance lends the proceedings sufficient edge and fascination.

There is nobility in Union County’s straightforward approach

Union County screens as part of Sundance’s US Dramatic Competition, and its look at how drugs destroy small-town communities should resonate with viewers. Meeks has adapted the film from his 2020 short, which premiered in Berlin, and Poulter’s rising star power could bring awareness to this unsentimental, naturalistic story that lacks easy resolutions.

Ohio resident Cody Parsons (Poulter) has just been released from prison, ordered to complete an 18-month programme in which he must meet regularly with a judge to discuss his progress and undergo drug testing. Initially living in his car, Cody finds work thanks to his brother Jack (Noah Centineo), who like him, is addicted. But both men struggle to stay sober in a rural community without much in the way of promising economic opportunities.

Shot in central Ohio, near where Meeks grew up, Union County features several supporting characters played by non-professionals who are either going through recovery or assisting at the local drug court. (One of the film’s most affecting performances belongs to Annette Deao, who essentially portrays herself as a counselor who compassionately advises Cody as he attempts to kick opioids.) Stefan Weinberger’s unadorned cinematography observes these everyday men and women as they relate their experiences to the judge or engage in group therapy sessions, and their plainspoken candour underlines the gruelling daily battle that is recovery.

Fleshing out his 14-minute short while retaining its understated tone, Meeks eschews preachy monologues and showstopping dramatic moments. Instead, his film considers an inarticulate young man who has been hooked on opioids since he was 17, not fully able to imagine a life without them. The audience learns tiny fragments of Cody’s sad backstory, but his stoic demeanour prevents him from completely opening up. Even when Cody develops feelings for Anna (Elise Kibler), a former substance abuser working to help those just starting their own recovery journey, he remains softly-spoken, his shame and anguish preventing him from being close to anyone.

Poulter portrays Cody through gentle physicality and downturned eyes, almost as if the character is shrinking from view as we look at him. Never without a cigarette and far less personable than the charming Jack, who is wilder and more irresponsible, Cody has a kind heart but is so shackled to his addiction that when he eventually relapses, he crumbles even further into himself.

Still, Union County preserves the character’s dignity and unknowability. Although he will later find the tools to express the pain he’s kept bottled up, Cody is not a mystery to be solved — or a problem to be fixed. Fittingly, Poulter depicts Cody as an enigma battling not just addiction but a suffocating sense of hopelessness.

There is nobility in Union County’s straightforward approach. So it’s a shame that Celia Hollander’s demonstratively mournful score oversells the narrative’s quietly upsetting moments. In addition, Meeks’ screenplay can feel too skeletal, confusing realism for insight. The film’s lack of dynamism is clearly by design, meant to highlight the unflashy but necessary hard work that those with substance abuse issues undergo to control their cravings. Poulter honours that creeping agony, and despite the character’s dark secrets ultimately coming to light, Union County refuses to provide cheap catharsis. Cody’s addiction may continue to have a hold on him, but the hope is that the grip is beginning to loosen as the film heads to its cautiously hopeful ending.