Worst Enemy: The Seeds of Toxic Masculinity and the Monstrosities they Spawn

Kevin Machate and Ammie Masterson’s Worst Enemy, from a script by Machate and Todd Rodgers, does the peculiar thing of centring a Gen X character as someone still deeply connected and governed by their childhood. A strained and active relationship with a father, the tormented memory of a mother, a friendship he maintains with the enthusiasm of youth, and a deep discomfort with and a search for who he is. These elements make up the foundation in a narrative about the disease of toxic masculinity and how it is transmitted from generation to generation. 

Shane (Machate), adrift in a dingy motel room with the photograph of his late dog, is caught in the weeds of a deep, unfunny midlife crisis. Unemployed, newly diagnosed with BPD, laden with the trauma of combat and childhood abuse, and isolated but for the tenuous relief of a cousin (Beth Shea). The despair piles up fast and easy, especially in the company of his generously bulldozing father (Barry Corbin), an army vet who got through life by sucking it up and punching everyone down. 

Flashbacks of his therapist’s (Masterson) consoling words do nothing but remind Shane of things he would rather ignore. The settings vary between similarly claustrophobic spaces. On the rare occasions when the frame opens up, it is still crowded with clutter. The exception is the one time he goes to see Ashley, his cousin and likely best friend characterised by warmth and relentless support. 

Though the change is not defined enough to sever the scene from the rest of the narrative, there is a noticeable sense of stability. Shane’s relationship with Ashley contains a surprising vulnerability, a wellspring protected and nurtured by its childhood origin. Against the anguished backdrop of the story, the near comical sweetness becomes a desperate reprieve. Machate is at his best in this scene. He portrays Shane in that specific way that only close friends—as opposed to parents—are allowed to see us when we are still young and growing within a community. A crucial difference from when he is spiralling alone or when he is around his father.

With Ashley, Shane is able to look at himself without flinching. And it is this willingness to consider openness an option that Jim, Shane’s father, enjoys criticising, an exercise in proving his own manhood. Applying more of the film’s proclivity for oppressiveness, a dinner scene involving the two men gives the audience a long and close look into Jim’s mind and his history with his son. Corbin utterly consumes the closeup, giving Jim a menacing, hateful look that is almost too brutish to return. 

The seeds Jim has sowed germinate. At its heaviest, the film bears down on the worst of Shane’s crisis with frantic editing and an intensification of that isolation that has hung over him throughout. Worst Enemy arranges all contributing, overlapping factors and still ensures that the most damaging of them stares you in the face with the hate accumulated over centuries. 

Watch Worst Enemy Short Film Trailer