Morelife

“Suicide is a private thing,” protested Heather McNamara (Lisanne Falk) in Heathers, but the world has become more crowded since then, and sometimes it’s just impossible to get any space. Shawn (Jackson Whitman) has gone to the trouble of finding a lonely spot by the water. It’s the middle of the night, and no-one seems to be around. Piece by piece, he takes off his clothes. He has a last cigarette. But just as he’s plucking up his courage and preparing to climb over the railings, he is interrupted by the arrival of a man with the head of a fish.

This is Kermit Lancaster (played by Clayne Crawford, who follows in the tradition of Michael Fassbender (Frank) and Karl Urban (Dredd) by keeping his face covered for the entire film). His rubbery fish mask is not the most convincing, but it also appears on his driving licence, and he seems to be able to eat and drink just fine with it on. Nobody ever remarks on it. Perhaps that’s because his piscine leanings never deter him from being a gentleman. He doesn’t exactly need to talk Shawn down. In the circumstances, it would be far too socially awkward to jump. Later, however, when he’s giving him a ride and he abruptly realises that dropping him off could lead to him finishing the job, he makes a much bigger commitment and elects to keep the kid by his side until he’s shaken him out of his depression. Following a subsequent discussion in a supermarket, the pair embark on a cross-country quest to find and taste morels.

This fungus, for those unfamiliar with it, is one of the most delicious foods known to humanity. Though it can be a bit overwhelming on its own, it is sublime as an ingredient, and a staple of the traditional cooking of Provençal, though it can also be found in places such as the Pacific Northwest. Two major factors complicate its use. One is that it largely refuses to be tamed, so has to be harvested from the wild. The other is that if overcooked, it loses its wonderful texture, but if undercooked, it can be fatally poisonous. As such, it constitutes a suitably mysterious goal for our heroes, but as so often, it’s the journey that counts.

It’s a journey filled with quirky little incidents, as often in tales like this, but they all register a little differently in light of Shawn’s suicidality. There’s a sense that Kermit is using them, where possible, to try to remind him how varied an unpredictable life is, and how much fun it can be, whether they’re helping out at a kid’s roller disco birthday party or gazing upon what is allegedly the biggest ball of twine in the world. Kermit suggests that Shawn try doing good in the world, but Shawn says he’s too lazy.

What about Kermit? Fish mask aside, is he satisfied with his life? When Shawn goes to see one of his paintings in an art museum, he’s surprised by the artist’s reluctance to trade on his celebrity. When the two of them hire a sex worker, she hangs out with them afterwards and delivers some rather blunt home truths. One might begin to wonder what Kermit was doing in that lonely spot to begin with. Despite all the wisdom that he has to dispense to Shawn, he feels increasingly like a fish out of water. Something is calling to him.

This is a world full of kindness, but not only that. The pair encounter a jobsworth server reluctant to do a small good deed by giving a little boy the toy he wants. They eat in a diner with a sign that says ‘hippies use side door’. Narratively, Kermit occupies a role that would once have belonged to a Black man, and he seems to know this. He wants to help the youthful protagonist, but can only deviate from his own path for so long. Can Shawn find what he needs to change his outlook before it’s too late?

Sweetly melancholy and sharply observant, this is the boy meets fish man movie you didn’t know you needed.

Reviewed on: 01 Nov 2026