As a millennial, my world is framed slightly differently than that of Gen-Z, yet given our current cultural and political climate, it is easy to see exactly where we are headed. Jessica Barr’s “The Plan” captures this trajectory with an intensity that marks her as an incredible talent—the kind of filmmaker who truly makes you excited about the future of the medium. The film places the audience directly into the dichotomy of Gen-Z life, exploring the paralyzing weight of feeling like the entire world’s responsibility rests on twenty-something shoulders.
Shot in a single, uninterrupted take, the filmmaking is remarkably immersive. It creates a space that feels lived-in and comforting, making you feel as though you belong in the room with the characters even as the tension mounts. This style evokes the raw, interpersonal angst found in early 2000s mumblecore, though Barr heightens that millennial restlessness into a modern pressure cooker. There is a palpable friction in the relationships—a search for love and meaning that often clashes with a desperate, destructive desire for more.
The narrative unfolds in an East LA apartment, where a group of young activists prepares for a violent political act intended to disrupt a high-profile graduation ceremony. As the heat rises, the mission begins to derail. Personal grievances, romantic entanglements, and unresolved traumas bubble to the surface, transforming the film from a thriller into a pitch-black comedy about the absurdity of idealism in a fractured world. It serves as a critique of modern liberalism, illustrating how common goals often collapse under the weight of infighting, ego, and mistrust.
This sense of paralysis is central to Barr’s directorial vision. In her statement, she notes that many in her generation are disillusioned with the systems they’ve inherited—angry, scared, and prone to turning toward absolutism when hope fails. “The Plan” asks what it would truly take to unite a generation that feels this level of helplessness, and provides a chilling look at what happens when they cannot.
The emotional heart of the film is found in the performances, particularly Ryan Simpkins as Evan. Simpkins is the standout of the ensemble, oscillating between “hot” and “cold” with incredible precision. We first meet Evan as a vulnerable, emotionally raw person, but Simpkins’ transformation is masterful; by the end, the character becomes something truly chilling and heart-inducing, anchoring the film’s exploration of what happens when fear guides action.
“The Plan” is a compelling, claustrophobic experience that traps the audience alongside its characters as time runs out. It is a necessary and uncomfortable reflection on the people we grow up with and the ideologies that both drive and divide us.
Follow “The Plan” here to stay up to date on upcoming screenings, and support Jessica Barr’s latest project, “Do I Remember When I Left You Behind,” on Seed&Spark.
