This review is based on a screening from the Sundance Film Festival.
In Union County, writer and director Adam Meeks offers an intimate glimpse into America’s opioid epidemic. His feature debut, adapted from his 2020 short of the same name, employs a blend of actors and non-actors. With permission, Meeks collaborates with the participants of the 2025 Adult Recovery Court in Bellefontaine, Ohio – his hometown. What’s presented is an impressively understated portrayal of the highs and lows of battling addiction, noteworthy for its solemn authenticity.
Will Poulter stars as Cody Parsons, a drug addict since he was a teenager who enters a court-mandated rehabilitation program. The Adam Warlock actor tackles a largely internalized role, as Cody chokes down his demons while attempting to lead a sober lifestyle. In the same program is his brother Jack (a scruffily bearded Noah Centineo), whom Cody introduced to narcotics seven years prior. Together, Cody and Jack attend their Adult Recovery Court meetings in the hope of progressing to further levels…but there’s no off switch for their cravings.
Meeks’ chameleon act of inserting Poulter and Centineo into actual Ohio addiction meetings pays mighty dividends. Like 2023’s Sing Sing, which cast real-life alums of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts group, Union County never feels like it’s pandering or out of touch. As participants take the podium to update the judge on their progress or struggles, we witness their genuine reactions. It’s not hard to pick Poulter or Centineo from the lineup at first, but that’s not the point; in these scenes, the actors fade into the background while real addicts bare their humble vulnerabilities to the audience. It’s the kind of independent experimentation that’s perfect for the Sundance Film Festival, and it would make Robert Redford proud.
Poulter is up for the challenge as Cody, thrown into a tumultuous role where every day and decision is monumental. From relapses to rebuilding, Poulter keeps a stoicism about Cody that reads like a man who’s constantly at war with himself. There’s a correlation between increased dialogue and Cody’s upward trajectory, as Meeks uses his self-isolating protagonist to demonstrate the healing power of community. Union County does a beautiful job of capturing the compassion and dedication within Bellefontaine’s Adult Recovery Court, from encouraging guardians to motivated graduates.
Everything rides on the believability of actors mingling with untrained program participants, and the film passes with flying colors. “
The Ohio-based production draws on the townsfolk’s spirits, which helps everything fall into place. Costume designs blend Poulter, Centineo, and the few other professional actors with the others while cinematography captures the midwestern vacancy of lumber plants and wavy, grassy fields. Nothing’s Hollywoodized; drama is kept soft and quiet, despite the gravity of the consequences. As Cody gets a menial job, moves into a no-frills sober house, and crushes on a peer supporter at the neighboring woman’s home (Anna, played by Elise Kibler), Meeks locks in on the prevailing silence, in which addicts can unfortunately suffer all too ofteen.
However, Meeks’ low rumble of an addiction film might test the patience of specific viewers. It’s extremely grounded, with a listlessness to its story progression. At times, Union County feels like it’s settling into the too-familiar motions of the addiction subgenre, shuffling toward the next court appearance without much escalation. Meeks’ intentions are plain, and he achieves the tone and pacing he deems appropriate, but the film almost hesitates at points before moving forward with a fairly evenhanded yet sporadically tepid consistency.
That said, what Meeks accomplishes by embracing environmental normalcy is a potent achievement. Poulter interacts with program members as if they’re longtime acquaintances, while they reciprocate organic empathy when Cody shares his pain in group sessions. Everything rides on the believability of actors mingling with untrained program participants, and the film passes with flying colors. It’s a compassionate, penetrating, bare-all snapshot of what people with a substance use disorder face throughout their lives, and a film that inspires excitement about the future of American independent filmmaking à la Kelly Reichardt or Derek Cianfrance.
