![‘Union County’ Review: Will Poulter Is Sensational In An Addiction Drama That Avoids Sensationalizing [Sundance]](https://cdn.theplaylist.net/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/23152539/Union-County.jpg "‘Union County’ Review: Will Poulter Is Sensational In An Addiction Drama That Avoids Sensationalizing [Sundance]")
Across nearly two decades, Will Poulter has run the gamut from franchises to festival fare, massive studio epics to micro-budget indies, and broad comedies to gut-wrenching dramas since making his debut as a child actor in “Son of Rambow.” But one thing sets Poulter apart from many similarly accomplished peers: he cares deeply about whether his work makes an impact beyond himself.
There’s a sincerity to Poulter’s work and his choice of roles that often reaches beyond the performance itself. His turn as a racist cop in “Detroit” confronted institutionalized racism. Playing a soldier in “Warfare” explored the psychological strain placed on members of the armed forces long after the battlefield. His recurring role on “The Bear” has allowed him to organically engage with mental health. Even his deliciously deviant turn in “Midsommar” offered a particularly toxic manifestation of masculinity.
But perhaps no film on Poulter’s résumé merges process and purpose as closely as “Union County,” a new film made with—not merely about—a community of people in recovery in Ohio. Director Adam Meeks blends nonfiction elements of an operational recovery program with the journey of Poulter’s fictional character, Cody Parsons, as he learns to manage his opioid addiction. Don’t expect flashy physical transformations or a tragic backstory from Poulter or Noah Centineo, who plays Jack, Cody’s foster brother on a parallel recovery track.
Poulter’s challenge in “Union County” is deceptively simple: to inhabit these transitional spaces with the fullness of a human life. His understated performance draws its texture from the real people around him, including Annette Deao, a licensed counselor who appears as herself and has spent decades helping people through recovery.
In an extensive conversation with The Playlist, Poulter discussed how he approached this unusual fusion of filmmaking and community collaboration, from shaping Cody through observation and conversation to grounding the character in the realities of recovery. While Poulter remained tight-lipped about future projects—including whether he’ll return as Adam Warlock in Marvel’s “Guardians of the Galaxy” franchise—he also reflected on what “Dopesick,” “Warfare,” and “The Bear” have taught him.
The word “process” can be a bit loaded for an actor, but after doing my research, I couldn’t find much of you talking about your own. Once you accept a part like Cody in “Union County,” what’s the next tactical step in bringing him to life?
I think the process for the acting department—at the risk of talking for anyone, but I think this extends to my colleagues on the film—was characterized by spending time with the community that we made the film with. The defining and unique factor of this experience was that it wasn’t so much a film about a community as a film made in collaboration with [them]. That really defined what the process would be like for a lot of us.
We got the opportunity to come out to the Bellefontaine area, get to know people, spend time locally and, critically, spend time in the recovery facility, meeting service providers like Annette and the real Jim, who Danny Wolohan plays. We got to meet Judge Bragg, sit in on court hearings, and spend time in various rooms in the recovery space. That was the best way to develop an authentic sense of who our characters were and what they might be facing—not just in connection to substance use disorder, but, more importantly, in everyday life. It’s one of the things I admire about what Adam did in the short film, and especially how that translated to the feature.
We know what the recovery process can look like in settings like a courtroom. We don’t always see what it looks like in the workplace or a romantic relationship. How did you find your way into those moments and understand how someone’s recovery manifests in those everyday spaces?
In my experience, spending time within the recovery community and hearing people’s stories, I realize that the things that are front of mind are inherent to the human condition and accessible to everybody. I think there’s sometimes this assumption that once someone becomes an addict, we fail to see them as a human being and forget that they live full and rich lives. When I found myself in discussion with folks in the recovery community and participants in this program, the conversations were about kids, mom and dad, siblings, work, cars, their housing situation—all these things that everyone can relate to.
I think the stigma around addiction is such that we no longer afford people the kind of interest, care, or compassion that we would extend to just about anyone else. Once someone becomes an addict, we struggle to see them as anything other than that. Of course, we attach a lot of stereotypes about why someone is an addict, what that reflects about them, or what it means they may be deficient in. You quickly realize, just by listening and spending time with people, that much of it is misinformation.
That’s also one of the beautiful things about what Adam did. You see people in this film in their everyday lives outside of the courtroom, and that’s a direct challenge to the stigma. It is inherently humanizing. You can see how a life of sobriety and recovery allows people to live fuller lives, and that feeds into the bigger conversation the film contributes to: there is a lot of hope. The adult recovery program is an amazing way to help folks get back on their feet and, critically, see people with substance use disorder as human beings deserving of that opportunity.
Were you able to draw on what you’d learned from projects in a similar register, whether it was the business side of the opioid epidemic in “Dopesick” or addiction’s effects on a community in “Glassland”?
For sure, man. I was so lucky, in the case of both of those projects, to develop a better understanding of the complexities around substance use disorder and the challenges faced by folks trying to commit themselves to recovery. “Dopesick” was interesting as it relates to the American experience and the opioid epidemic specifically. That really educated me about how human greed and a really ugly facet of capitalism led to so many people being taken advantage of, and how this strategic, widespread injustice was enacted on hardworking American people. That really was at the root of the epidemic.
I think that was obviously weighted toward devastation and a certain degree of negativity, and one of the questions that lingers after “Dopesick,” in a great way that I’m very proud of, is, “Well, how do we respond to this? What can be done?” You start to see signs of hope. You see Michael Keaton’s character recover himself and start to atone.
A question that lingered for me after “Dopesick” was, “What workable responses in the real world are there to this issue?” Addiction to opioids creates a specifically difficult challenge. It is such a powerful drug, and the show touches upon how opioids can almost rewire someone’s neurochemistry to the point where quitting is harder than with most other drugs, from what I understand. Coming across a program as successful as this one, contributing to so many people getting better, getting back on their feet, and recovering, was too good an opportunity to turn down.
You’ve been vocal about many causes over the years and found ways to integrate activism into your art, but they’re interlinked more closely than ever in “Union County.” What did this project teach you about the possibilities of bringing the two together?
I never want to conflate my role as an actor with that of an activist. I only have to spend a couple of days in the company of Annette Deao to know what it really looks like to commit yourself to helping other people. She’s been a therapist for 39 years, in this court program for 22, and she’s the heart and soul of her community.
What “Union County” has done is allow me to contribute to a very alive, unresolved conversation in a way that feels real. We just came back from a week-long tour in Ohio, and we were able to experience firsthand what the film means to folks. A lot of people are a few degrees away from this epidemic and are affected, if not by the epidemic itself, then by addiction in some way, shape, or form. [We were] able to continue the conversations, continue to learn, and better understand people who have lived this experience.
Addiction and recovery have both physical and mental components. How did you come to understand and convey that condition?
We were so lucky that Annette is such an expert on the subject that she could answer any question I had. She was an unofficial producer on this thing. In typical Annette fashion, she made herself available at all hours for any question. And because we were integrated into a real recovery community, there were so many expert service providers on hand to provide answers as well.
I would also say Adam approached the entire subject and every element of this film with the utmost respect and attention to detail. He wanted to represent it authentically without ever infringing on participants’ recovery process. He himself was very well educated about the physical and mental ramifications of being addicted to opioids, experiencing detox, and going through the various phases of recovery.
The participants were also incredibly generous with their information and personal stories. I think that’s because they recognized that, between Adam and Annette, there was a shared and genuine desire to help amplify the power of the program.
There was no question that Annette was there for a good reason, but I think there may have been some understandable skepticism about a film crew coming in and inserting itself into a program. Adam had developed strong, long-standing relationships characterized by trust and safety before most of us even arrived. Once we embarked on shooting the feature, people were very open, willing, and—as I understood it from my observations—trusting about sharing that information.
You’ve talked about how working with great actors has inspired you to raise your game. Did something similar happen on “Union County” while sharing scenes with participants in the program?
Annette is something like a unicorn in that she’s as good working with scripted material as she is when encouraged to improvise and go fully off the page, which is not something I could say for myself or most other actors. A lot of my scenes with her were spellbinding, and working with her did, in many ways, remind me of working with some of the best actors I’ve worked with. You’re sitting across from someone with enormous experience and expertise.
I think “Union County” provided a unique challenge, which was to commit to a character and then step into a space that felt more real than virtually any other space I’d been in. There were fewer reminders that we were on a film set. We didn’t have a ton of lights. There weren’t multiple cameras. We didn’t have a lot of the infrastructure that you associate with filmmaking, and I don’t mean that to say we were under-resourced. By design, we aimed to leave a smaller footprint and avoid being intrusive.
For me, that reduced the acting challenge. I was able to immerse myself in the reality of it more than I would have if there were all these signifiers that we were a film crew. The acting challenge was more in the preparation, the development of the character, and committing to Cody.
Once we went into those spaces, we were often doing single takes or just shooting what we needed in the context of a real court day. Every Monday, there’s a hearing that lasts about 90 minutes. Noah’s and my scripted material would be relatively seamlessly integrated by the crew, Judge Bragg, and Annette into the court hearing. It became less about trying to make that feel real and more about submitting to the process. Occasionally, we would shoot something again or from a different angle, but more often than not, that was how it worked.
It was unique. At the risk of sounding cheesy, the defining word around this entire process was trust. Trust from everybody was massive. But you can only extend that trust if there’s respect and transparency around one’s reasons for being there. To me, that was never in question, and I credit Adam for never wanting to be extractive and for wanting only to be additive to this community.
It feels like there’s an echo between “Warfare” and “Union County” in that both of your characters’ journeys culminate in admitting they can’t do it alone and need help. We’re the same age, so I feel like I can say that while representations of masculinity have gotten more varied, it’s still rare to see men in those positions. Is demonstrating strength through vulnerability part of a larger project for you?
Oh, that’s really cool. Thanks for picking up on that! I definitely see emotional vulnerability as a strength and recognize that it is something of a counter-narrative to what’s out there with respect to masculinity.
In the case of “Warfare,” when the gentleman I represented has the strength to admit that he’s not in a position to lead anymore and hands over responsibility, I saw that as the most impressive moment of anything I saw him do over the course of the story. Up until that point, I had learned all the stats and information about the incredible things he’d achieved. But to me, being in that position, setting aside ego and pride, and having the clarity of thought as a leader to recognize what’s best for the group you’re responsible for was an exceptional example of leadership. That was by no means a failure, and certainly not a sign of weakness. I always saw it as a sign of strength.
I think what’s really interesting about that call to Annette is that it was based on a real experience Annette had, and has had more than a few times, from the very chair you see her taking that call in. She goes above and beyond. She really has committed her life to helping people recover.
Adam often refers to this interesting quote: “The opposite of addiction is not sobriety. The opposite of addiction is connection.” I think the phone call is an example of that. In struggling to recover and fighting with addiction, what Cody needs more than anything in that moment is connection because the sense of disconnection he feels is obviously exacerbated massively by what happens. I think that was a really good example of it, and obviously, it requires him to be emotionally vulnerable.
I think emotional vulnerability is something he only arrives at thanks to the program. You see Cody experience a lot of firsts that, again, we don’t necessarily assume that people in recovery have experienced before. We spoke about the fact that when Cody is told, “Good job, I’m really proud of you,” that might be the first time in his life, in his mid-twenties, that he’s ever heard that. What you see in him, in making that decision, is an amazing step forward. Cody from six months ago would have used, and I was really proud of Cody in that moment.
You’ve been part of many projects about heroes—Narnia, “The Maze Runner,” Marvel. Has “Union County” taught you something different about what it means to be a hero that you’ll carry with you?
Annette was certainly a reminder to me, particularly when you shoot a scene and then you’re relieved of your responsibilities. You get to go home, and you don’t necessarily have to wake up the next day and do it all over again. Annette mentions that we have a “Union County” sequel every Monday.
When you are afforded the opportunity to represent real folks or work so closely with people doing this incredible work, it’s humbling. It’s really inspiring. It makes you yearn to have that experience again. Independently of making the film, being able to come into contact with someone like Annette, who is inherently that good, is one of life’s biggest gifts. I love her, and I’m so grateful to have learned from her in so many ways beyond the film. I feel that’s one of the biggest privileges of my job: getting to know people from different walks of life who are in service to different things.
One last thing: You hadn’t done much extended episodic work before Luca on “The Bear.” Did living with that character and developing him over several years change the way you approach the more finite experience of a feature film?
It’s been a really fun experience to explore a wider, longer-reaching arc and think about the development of someone you’re representing over a longer period of time. Being part of “The Bear” and representing someone in the hospitality industry, especially a chef like Luca, was a dream come true. That’s the job I would have loved to have had if I hadn’t gone into acting.
I’ve met some of the finest, most creative, and inspiring people I could have hoped to meet in the hospitality industry, and that wouldn’t have happened without “The Bear.” The way the show also represents other subjects close to home, like mental health, means the world to me. I definitely look forward to the prospect of doing more television and exploring a longer, wider arc than I have previously, because it allows me to go deeper.
“Union County” opens in theaters Friday, August 14.
Marshall Shaffer is a freelance film critic and journalist based in New York. In addition to The Playlist, his byline can be found at sites including Slant Magazine, Decider, Crooked Marquee, and Men's Health. He is a member of the Critics Choice Association and New York Film Critics Online.
