Reel Review From SXSW: Uta Briesewitz’s Directorial Debut, American Sweatshop, Stars Lili Reinhart as Your Timeline’s Guardian
In the ever-expanding world of social media, we have access to almost too much these days—often consuming things involuntarily without even realizing it. And then, there’s the rare occasion when a video is so jarring it’s burned into your memory. In Uta Briesewitz’s film American Sweatshop, Lili Reinhart plays the guardian of your timelines, spending all day scrolling through videos that could leave you completely falling apart. But unfortunately, what she sees is the most uncensored and raw footage imaginable. So, here lies the question: Who’s protecting her? Surely not the crappy work environment that looks like a tech bro’s basement—assuming they hate art or color. This character-driven film takes you into a world that exists just outside our own—one that, for the most part, goes unnoticed. But here, we’re forced to sit in the thick of it.
Immediately, we’re thrown into the story. Reinhart plays Daisy, a twenty-something internet moderator at a company called Paladin, where her boss, Joy, is now just a corporate robot, functioning on one setting: cold, passive aggression. While the work might not initially seem harmful, it’s an everyday assault on the body and mind. The weight of the environment is clear from the start—each employee standing in front of a laptop, eyes glued to the screen, but behind those eyes? Emptiness. Well, at least for the experienced employees. Their video reports from users could be anything—from suicides to physical and sexual abuse. Joel Fry plays Bob, a coworker who has clearly had enough and is now finding his own ways to cope—whether that means hazing the new hire, Paul, or just straight-up yelling. Then there’s Ava, the effortlessly cool girl who’s unfazed by anything she sees at work. And of course, our main character Daisy.
We meet Daisy at a turning point. She dreams of working in the medical field, but Paladin offers just enough pay to get by, and she hasn’t successfully passed her exams. As much as she wants to be unbothered by the horrors she witnesses at work, she collapses while watching a violent sexual video titled “Nailed It.” (Use your imagination if you have to.) This sends her spiraling—she becomes obsessed with the video, taking it to law enforcement, only for them to claim their hands are tied. Their negligence only fuels her aggression, pushing her to track down the creator herself.
The film’s storyline feels both underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time. Each character seems like they should be front and center for the entire film, as the beginning feels like a deep dive into human reaction. But instead, the movie shifts into a thriller, creating a world these characters no longer fit into. The tone completely changes as we uncover Daisy’s intentions—she throws away the part of her tied to her abusive job and transforms her life. But let’s not mistake this for an emotional story about perseverance—because it’s not. It’s an interesting and nuanced experience which get lost as the story gets pulled in too many directions. So while the suspense and closing scene offer an intense payoff, it doesn’t quite land in its entirety.
Reinhart proves she has the skill, balancing the lost Daisy we meet with a version of herself she channels. While she delivers a strong performance, the film’s disjointed storyline affects how she’s perceived—stripping her of confidence and making her seem irrational. Still, Reinhart commits to her character, following the journey set before her. While she’s at the center of the story, there’s two actors who deserved more screen time: Fry and Jeremy Ang Jones. Jones’ character brings the heart—giving us someone to root for, not in a competitive sense, but in life. Fry’s Bob is a standout—not just for the comedic relief but because he feels like the most complex character. He’s a walking, talking reflection of burnout, where intrusive thoughts become public ones. These characters anchor the storyline, pulling it back when they’re at the workplace, a setting that feels tethered to our reality.
Briesewitz’s directorial debut shows us what kind of filmmaker she will be, especially as she exposes American audiences to narratives we rarely see. American Sweatshop isn’t the next must-watch movie obsession, but it offers hope for more original stories—something true film lovers are always asking for.
