Toothbrush (2024): A Drunken Visit, A Tender Truth
Toothbrush (2024)
A drunken stag night, a late-night visit to an ex, and one toothbrush that never really left.
You know that moment when youβve had one too many drinks with your mates, and it suddenly seems like a brilliant idea to show up at your exβs door in the middle of the night?
Yeah… that’s basically how Toothbrush kicks off.
Liam, our charming disaster with no keys, no wallet, and no dignity left, knocks on the door of his ex, Will. The classic “lost my stuff” story (maybe losing a bit more than just his phone). Will, surprised but still soft-hearted, lets him in, throws a blanket over him, even finds his old toothbrush (!).
Because, letβs be honest β sometimes the things we leave behind arenβt just things.
What starts off as a slightly tipsy comedy quickly turns into something deeper. Itβs about all the things we never really said. About the people we never quite let go of, no matter how official the goodbye sounded.
It all tightens around one simple, quietly devastating question:
“What are you doing here, exactly? What is it you want?”
In those few words, you feel the whole weight of whatβs been left unsaid between them.
This isnβt about a lost wallet.
Itβs not even about the toothbrush left by the sink.
Itβs about hope β the kind that stubbornly refuses to die.
The film feels like an old sweater: looks simple at first, but once you slip into it, it warms places you forgot were cold.
Jack Armstrong and Alexander Mushore deliver performances that feel lived-in and painfully real β like two people still tripping over the leftovers of love.
And the ending?
Letβs just say β you’ll feel a little sad, a little warm inside, and you’ll definitely be wondering… where your forgotten toothbrush ended up.
Toothbrush is a quiet little gem.
It doesnβt shout.
It whispers.
And somehow, that whisper stays with you long after the screen fades to black.