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A new French-American independent film dives into the fragile ecosystem of group therapy, where trust is sacred — and then disrupts it. Group – The Schopenhauer Project, directed by Alexis Lloyd, steps into this intimate space with a bold narrative twist: a new participant announces he’s writing a TV series inspired by the therapy sessions.
When fiction stirs up real emotions
From the very first sessions we witness on screen, tension flickers beneath the surface. Characters are trying to be safe, vulnerable, and honest. And then, a new member arrives with a confession that lands like a thunderclap: he’s an aspiring screenwriter who intends to use what he hears here as material for a television series.
For any viewer who’s ever been part of a group like this — or just imagined the privacy such spaces require — the betrayal feels immediate. The questions start to rise, quietly at first: is this still therapy, or are we now fictional characters? Can you keep opening up if someone’s taking notes for later?
What keeps this premise from becoming gimmicky is how it’s treated: not with sensationalism, but with an eye toward the human. The tension grows gradually, not just from the reactions, but from the way scenes shift in tone — calm one moment, charged the next. There’s an honesty that seeps through, especially thanks to the performances and the unpolished, sometimes raw dialogue. To read Charlize Theron and Taron Egerton face off in 2026’s Apex trailer
Scripted structure, improvised truth
Group – The Schopenhauer Project doesn’t play entirely by traditional filmmaking rules. Alexis Lloyd, who previously directed 30 Beats, chose to use a hybrid method: actors were given detailed character backstories and arcs, but their dialogue was mostly improvised. The idea is simple, and ambitious — create something that feels real, not written.
That works particularly well because of the presence of Dr. Elliot Zeisel, who plays the group’s therapist, Dr. Ezra Herzfeld (nicknamed “Doc”). Zeisel isn’t an actor. He’s a real psychoanalyst, and in the film he’s doing what he does in real life. There are no rehearsed lines for him, only reactions drawn from decades of clinical experience. And watching someone use their actual therapeutic tools in real time is something rarely seen on screen.
- The film is inspired by Irvin D. Yalom’s novel The Schopenhauer Cure, which already explored the intersection of therapy and philosophical tension.
- Improvisation is central to the approach: structure was given, but words were born in the moment.
- Filming sometimes unfolded like real sessions, with evolving emotional stakes.
Personally, I love when a film trusts its actors — and its audience — enough to go off-script. That messiness, that unpredictability, brings you closer to the characters. You stop analyzing their lines and start simply watching them try, fail, open up, or retreat. It’s cinema that breathes.
An ensemble anchored by authenticity
The cast is an ensemble without weak links. Teresa Avia Lim, Lucy Walters, and Thomas Sadoski stand out for their subtle shifts in expression — the way hurt shows up on a face before words appear. Bernardo Cubria and Elisha Lawson bring plenty of conflict, but stay clear of theatrics. The friction between them and the newcomer is palpable, enough to make you shift in your seat.
Each actor worked from in-depth notes about their character’s past, issues, and expected development. That preparation allows their improvisations to stay grounded. And because this isn’t written in polished TV dialogue, silences are allowed to sit. People interrupt. They circle topics. You catch yourself leaning in, trying to interpret discomfort or deflection. To read Ranking Shyamalan’s Hits: Which Film Defines His Legacy?
A risky but sincere cinematic experiment
The film had its world premiere at the Naples International Film Festival in Florida, where it was described as “riveting, illuminating, and voyeuristic.” That last word might make some viewers uncomfortable, but it’s not so far from what therapy looks like to an outsider. We are watching people — played by actors, yes — crack open. What you feel while watching is somewhere between fascination and discomfort. And I think that’s the point.
Alexis Lloyd doesn’t hide the film’s origins. When he read Yalom’s book, he saw “a unique territory for cinema… raw, unpredictable, profoundly human.” That translates into an experience that isn’t neat, but feels lived-in. He wanted to capture something that no tightly plotted screenplay ever could. And whatever the film’s imperfections — some might want more traditional structure — the honesty of the project speaks for itself.
The trailer gives a good taste of the emotional range. You catch glimpses of trust being built, only to be shaken. You feel the stirring mix of therapy-session silences, awkward laughter, unresolved grief. Having seen those moments in context now, I can say they hit harder with the full weight of the story behind them.
Group – The Schopenhauer Project isn’t made for everyone. But for anyone who’s fascinated by the human mind, by group dynamics, or simply wants to see something that stretches traditional narrative form, it’s an encounter worth having.
