Jason Lew’s directorial debut, The Free World, is a heavy sit. Honestly, if you’re looking for a feel-good Friday night popcorn flick, this isn't it. It’s a movie that asks uncomfortable questions about what happens to a person after the state breaks them. We talk a lot about "wrongful conviction" as a news headline, but we rarely talk about the physical and psychological residue that stays on a man after he’s exonerated.
That’s where this story lives.
Mo Lundy, played with a quiet, vibrating intensity by Boyd Holbrook, has spent twenty years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. When he gets out, he doesn't scream. He doesn't sue the world. He just tries to blend into the beige walls of an animal shelter. He works with dogs because they don't judge him. They don't know he was the "monster" the papers wrote about. Then he meets Doris, played by Elisabeth Moss, and everything gets complicated. Fast.
The Brutal Reality of The Free World and Life After Exoneration
Most movies about prison focus on the escape or the big courtroom "gotcha" moment where the DNA evidence saves the day. The Free World skips all that. It starts in the aftermath. It's about the "now what?" phase.
👉 See also: Netflix Monsters: What Really Happened With Lyle and Erik Menendez
Mo is a ghost. He’s converted to Islam, which gives him a framework for discipline and peace, but you can see the trauma in how he carries his shoulders. Holbrook plays him like a man who is constantly waiting to be hit. It’s a physical performance. He’s gentle with the dogs, but there’s a flicker of something terrifying under the surface—not because he’s a criminal, but because he’s been treated like one for two decades.
Then comes the catalyst. Doris. She’s in an abusive marriage with a cop, which is a specific kind of hell. When she ends up at Mo’s door after a violent encounter, the movie shifts from a character study into something closer to a noir thriller. But it’s a slow-burn noir. It’s sweaty and desperate.
Why Boyd Holbrook and Elisabeth Moss Were the Perfect Choices
You've probably seen Holbrook in Logan or Narcos, where he’s usually the charismatic tough guy. Here, he’s hollowed out. It’s arguably his best work. He captures that specific brand of "institutionalization"—the way he looks at a grocery store aisle like it's a foreign planet.
And Elisabeth Moss? She does what she does best: portraying a woman on the absolute edge of a nervous breakdown who somehow finds a shred of agency. Her character, Doris, isn't just a "damsel." She's a mirror for Mo. They are both trapped in systems that don't care if they live or die. For Mo, it was the legal system; for Doris, it’s a domestic prison guarded by a badge.
🔗 Read more: The Witch Movie: Where to Watch Robert Eggers’ Folk Horror Masterpiece
The Problem with "Systemic Trauma" in Modern Cinema
A lot of films try to tackle "the system," but they usually end up feeling like a lecture. The Free World avoids this by keeping the stakes tiny and intimate. It doesn't try to solve the American judicial system. It just shows you what it did to one guy's hands. He can't stop shaking.
Critics were split when it premiered at Sundance in 2016. Some thought the plot took a turn into "melodrama" in the second half. Maybe. But life is melodramatic when you’re a felon on the run with a woman who just killed her husband in self-defense. There’s no "chill" way to handle that situation.
The movie focuses heavily on the concept of "The Free World" being a bit of a lie. Are you actually free if you have no money, no family, and the police are just waiting for you to blink wrong? Mo’s apartment is barely a step up from a cell. The animal shelter where he works is literally full of cages. The visual metaphors aren't subtle, but they are effective.
The Cinematography of Isolation
The lighting in this film is remarkably bleak. It’s all fluorescent hums and muddy browns. It captures the humid, oppressive atmosphere of the American South without relying on "swamp" clichés. Everything feels damp. You can almost smell the floor cleaner and the dog food.
- The use of close-ups: Lew lingers on Mo's face to show the struggle of processing basic human touch.
- Sound design: The world is too loud for Mo. The clatter of a diner or the sound of a siren is dialed up to show his sensory overload.
- Pacing: It’s intentionally sluggish at the start to make you feel the weight of Mo’s boredom and isolation.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
I won't spoil the final frame, but people often argue about whether it’s a tragedy or a triumph. Honestly, it’s both. In a world that refuses to give you a fair shake, sometimes the only "freedom" you get is the choice of how you go down.
🔗 Read more: Why the Next Episode of Big Brother is Making Everyone Nervous
Doris and Mo are two broken people trying to glue themselves together with a bottle of Elmer’s. It’s messy. It doesn't always hold. The film argues that maybe the "Free World" isn't a place you live in, but a state of mind you have to fight to keep for even five minutes.
Actionable Takeaways for Film Buffs and Activists
If you’re watching The Free World and it sparks an interest in the actual reality of exoneration, don't just stop at the credits. The movie is fiction, but the statistics aren't.
- Check out the Innocence Project: They deal with the real-life Mo Lundys. Since 1992, they’ve exonerated hundreds of people through DNA testing. Their site has actual case files that make the movie look tame.
- Watch for "The Transition": Pay attention to the scenes where Mo tries to interact with technology or modern social cues. This is a real phenomenon called "reentry shock."
- Analyze the Religious Element: Mo’s conversion to Islam is handled with surprising respect. It’s not a plot device; it’s his survival mechanism. Look at how he uses prayer to ground himself when the world starts spinning.
- Compare it to 'Hell or High Water': If you liked the gritty, "no-win" feeling of this movie, watch Hell or High Water. Both films capture a specific kind of American poverty where the law is an obstacle, not a protector.
To really "get" this movie, you have to accept that it’s not going to give you an easy answer. It’s a heavy, bruising look at the scars we can’t see. It’s about the fact that sometimes, the hardest part isn't getting out of prison—it's staying out of the one you built in your own head.
Next Steps for the Viewer:
Stop looking for a "hero" in the traditional sense. Instead, watch the film specifically through the lens of Mo’s sensory experience. Notice how he reacts to noise, light, and touch. Then, research the "National Registry of Exonerations" to see how many people are currently living Mo's reality. Understanding the gap between "legal innocence" and "social acceptance" is the key to unlocking what Jason Lew was trying to say.