SXSW 2025: Outerlands Finds Its Way Home

One of the most compelling dynamics for a relationship is the odd couple. The duo who seemingly have nothing in common, but who, through forced bonding time, recognize that they’re a positive presence in each other’s lives. It’s this dynamic that’s at the core of Elena Oxman’s film Outerlands, which had its world premiere at the 2025 SXSW Film & TV Festival. It’s a story of two hurt people who don’t believe they deserve any act of kindness that’s given to them. Through their unlikely relationship, they learn that everyone deserves to feel loved.

Cass (Asia Kate Dillon) lives in San Francisco in a rent-controlled building. Their apartment is bare except for a ridiculous beaver lamp carved from wood. They’re a nanny by day and a waiter by night. Cass has shut themself off from anyone trying to make a connection and drinks themself to sleep every night. One day, they run into Kalli (Louisa Krause), a fellow server at the restaurant, at the local laundromat. They spend the night together, and Kalli asks if Cass would be willing to do her a huge favor: watch her daughter, Ari (Ridley Asha Bateman), for a few days. Cass accepts, but as days pass and phone calls go unanswered, Cass begins to wonder if this situation is permanent.

Outerlands opens with a poem by Raymond Carver called “Late Fragment.” The poem is a conversation between two people. One asks the other if they got everything they wanted out of this life. The other answers that they did. That all they hoped for was to believe they were beloved and to feel others love them too. It’s a perfect summation of the Cass and Ari characters, who have closed themselves off because of their childhood experiences. Granted, Ari is still in her childhood years, but her mother’s knack for disappearing for days on end has made Ari steely. If her mother leaves so freely, why won’t everyone else?

Cass also had a similarly rocky childhood as Ari, although we only get glimpses of it. They mention growing up with their grandmother because their mother was absent, but no further information is given. It’s clearly a wound that hasn’t healed, and it manifests in Cass’ self-enforced isolation and excessive drinking. So much of Outerlands speaks to the idea of moving forward by healing your inner child. It sounds a little hippie, but the essence is earnest. How can one feel at peace with their present self if there are entire years of their life they haven’t processed? The relationship between Cass and Ari has healing qualities for both of them. It gives them hope for the future, while putting a soothing balm on the parts of the past that still ache. Every wound makes us who we are, but they don’t have to keep blistering. People can patch you up if you let them, but you must let them. That’s one of the hardest things to accept, but that is the ethos of Outerlands. We are our best selves when we’re able to accept the help of another.

The film’s title shares its name with a video game from Cass’ youth. It’s a two-dimensional game that has the look of early Mario with a little spaceman jumping around the screen. The point of Outerlands the video game is to guide a lost astronaut home, and isn’t that what we’re all trying to do? To find our way through this messy world to a place that feels like home. It’s not defined by blood, but by a genuine desire to care for someone other than yourself. The only way you can be that for another person is to grant yourself the kindness of forgiveness. In a way, video games teach Ari and Cass that they haven’t reached an insurmountable dead end, as much as it may feel that way. Video games are a shared activity they love, and the basis of video games is failure. You may die or go the wrong way and get lost, but you can always respawn to try again.

Outerlands is a beautiful snapshot of a life lived on the outskirts. Dillon and their younger scene partner, Bateman, give such gentle, grounded performances to create this humanistic piece of what a pure connection between two people is capable of. Outerlands is a truly special piece of filmmaking— immersive, intuitive, and illuminating, a reminder of the empathy that should be at the forefront of all storytelling.