A loving though sarcastic poltergeist helps a woman rediscover life after war
There are times when letting go feels like a betrayal, so we hold on. In My Dead Friend Zoe, Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green) is a U.S. Army veteran haunted, emotionally and physically, by the ghost of her friend Zoe (Natalie Morales) and she learns that the hard way. Through Merit’s need to reconcile her time in the Afghanistan War and the Alzheimer’s slowly encroaching on her grandfather Dale (Ed Harris), what emerges is as much about healing as it is about the weight of memory.
As the story unfolds, director Kyle Hausmann-Stokes and his co-writers Cherish Chen and A.J. Bermudez, alternate between present-day and flashbacks to Afghanistan, where Merit and Zoe serve as Army mechanics. Initially, the cuts and transitions between timelines are dizzying, leaving us discombobulated and unsure of what went wrong. That is by design, mirroring Merit’s refusal to address the cause of her pain. A remorse that leaves her stranded in a place of constant emotional turmoil. Hausmann-Stokes uses this staccato rhythm to craft a sensory patchwork of memory and reality. Placing Merit in group therapy; while her grandfather, Dale, combats a loss of autonomy and his own grief, doubles the effect. By showing these two generations of Army vets in parallel, My Dead Friend Zoe balances heavier themes with moments of darker humor that force these characters to see their problems in each other.
Martin-Green’s performance has gravitational pull. Portraying Merit in every shade of daughter, lover, soldier, and friend. This is a woman whose rigid routines and emotional swells reveal the complexity of post-traumatic stress. A survival mechanism that paralyzes Merit’s daily life—from sharing in group to falling for the sweetly goofy Alex (Utkarsh Ambudkar), or recognizing her role in Zoe’s afterlife and Dale’s living. Morales, as Zoe, is a bittersweet foil for Merit, embodying the warm incongruity of an empathetic and witty poltergeist. Their dynamic centers the film, but it’s Harris as the covertly devastating Vietnam veteran, whose wounds mirror his granddaughter, that fuels the resolution. It is a discussion of generational trauma that we don’t see coming and it detonates because of it. The truth behind Zoe’s death is another heart-stopper.
Through My Dead Friend Zoe, the filmmakers confront the personal wreckage of war, the fallout of unresolved guilt, and the fragile bonds that tether us to each other in the aftermath of grief. Hausmann-Stokes’s life as a veteran gives the story life, even when the storytelling stumbles. This isn’t an easy film and it isn’t a perfect one. Instead, it immerses us in the turmoil of healing, the fear of questioning where we go from here, and the burden of accountability. When it falters in pacing or from over-sentimentality it’s because those themes are heartfelt—lived-in. War comes at a cost, every time it is waged. And while that cost is immeasurable, its units of measurement are the toll it takes on those on its frontlines. Yet, hope abounds.
My Dead Friend Zoe comes to theaters on February 28
