Rian Johnson returns to his roots with Brick (2025), a spiritual sequel to his 2005 breakout neo-noir film. While the original Brick was a gritty, emotionally raw detective story set in a suburban high school, this new installment expands the world without losing the sharp edges, stylized dialogue, and haunting atmosphere that made the original a cult classic.
The story follows Eli Brandt, a socially withdrawn but highly observant student whose older brother, Noah, disappeared under mysterious circumstances. When Eli discovers a cryptic message buried in an old camcorder tape, he begins to uncover a complex web of secrets involving a student-run app called Mirror—a tool disguised as a mental health support network, but actually used for manipulation, blackmail, and control.
As Eli digs deeper, aided reluctantly by a classmate named Dani, he realizes that the app is connected not only to his brother’s disappearance, but to a pattern of mental breakdowns and suicides among students. The more he learns, the more dangerous the truth becomes—especially as those in power work to erase the evidence and silence him.
Johnson’s direction is restrained but deliberate. The cinematography, led once again by Steve Yedlin, captures a cold, sterile high school world where digital silence is just as terrifying as physical violence. While Brick (2005) relied on stylized slang and hard-boiled pacing, Brick (2025) introduces a quieter, more modern tension—where much of the danger lies in what’s not said, in what’s hidden in data and code.
Tanner Buchanan gives a strong performance as Eli, channeling the quiet intensity once brought by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Lana Condor also stands out as Dani, a character whose shifting loyalties keep the audience guessing.
What makes Brick (2025) special is not just its mystery, but its relevance. The film isn’t just a whodunit—it’s a meditation on digital identity, surveillance culture, and the manipulation of truth in the age of social media and mental health algorithms.
Rather than chasing the same style beat-for-beat, this sequel builds something darker, smarter, and eerily current. It may not be as punchy as the original, but its slow-burn intensity lingers. In a world obsessed with instant exposure, Brick (2025) reminds us that the most dangerous truths are the ones no one wants to find.
