‘Wasteman’: Survival, Fatherhood, and the Cost of Staying Alive

Directed by: Cal McMau

Screenplay by: Hunter Andrews, Eoin Doran

Produced by: Sophia Gibber, Myles Payne, Philip Barantini, Samantha Beddoe

Starring: David Jonsson, Tom Blyth

Run Time: 1 hour and 30 minutes

Rating: R

Release Date: April 17, 2026

A Life Shaped Behind Bars

I went into Wasteman not knowing what to expect. What unfolds is a dark, unflinching prison drama led by David Jonsson as Taylor, a man who has spent 13 years incarcerated. Inside, survival is not guaranteed; it’s negotiated. Taylor is subjected to violence, threats, and forced betrayals, the kind that slowly reshape who a person is.

What keeps him grounded is the idea of something beyond those walls: his teenage son. It’s a relationship that doesn’t yet fully exist, but one he holds onto as a reason to endure. When Taylor learns he may be released soon, that hope comes into focus. Staying out of trouble becomes less about survival in the moment and more about protecting the future he’s trying to reach.

The Tension of Survival

That path becomes more complicated with the arrival of his new cellmate, Dee (Tom Blyth). Volatile, charismatic, and unpredictable, Dee operates with a kind of authority within the prison’s internal economy. He has access to contraband—drugs, goods, leverage—and carries himself like someone who understands the rules, even if he refuses to follow them.

What begins as a reluctant co-existence turns into a complicated bond. Dee offers protection, but also risk. Taylor, who cuts hair for other inmates and tries to stay neutral, is pulled into a world where alliances come with consequences. And in a place like this, there’s no such thing as standing still; you’re either involved or in the way.

A Performance Built on Restraint

Jonsson continues to impress as Taylor, delivering a performance rooted in tension. His physicality tells the story as much as his dialogue—slightly hunched, observant, always calculating. There’s an innocence in his eyes that suggests someone who grew up in this system, learning early when to speak and when to disappear.

What makes the performance resonate is the internal conflict. There are moments where Taylor wants to push back, to say no, to help—but survival takes precedence. His goal is simple: get out, become a licensed barber, and build something with his son. That simplicity makes every compromise feel heavier.

Violence, Technology, and the Reality of Confinement

The film doesn’t shy away from the brutality of prison life. Through a mix of handheld and phone-shot footage, it captures a world that feels immediate and invasive. Inmates use contraband phones to document fights, share moments, and assert control in ways that feel disturbingly modern.

There’s a rawness to the filmmaking—bloodshed, humiliation, and chaos unfold in ways that place you directly inside the environment. From sudden bursts of violence to the everyday tension simmering beneath conversations, Wasteman immerses you in a system that feels both isolating and overcrowded at once.

Visually, the film leans into darkness—cool blue tones, dim lighting, and confined spaces reinforce the psychological weight of incarceration. Moments of natural light are rare, and when they do appear, they feel almost out of reach.

Morality in Motion

Tom Blyth brings an unhinged but layered energy to Dee. He’s unpredictable, at times even charming, but always dangerous. There’s a sense that he enjoys the chaos, until something shifts—and when it does, he becomes someone entirely different. His dynamic with Taylor is where the film finds much of its tension, forcing Taylor into decisions that test his sense of right and wrong.

Because Taylor isn’t a saint. No one here is. Everyone is navigating survival, making choices that exist in a gray space between necessity and consequence. As his release date approaches, those choices become harder to justify—and harder to escape.

A Tense, Slow-Build Prison Drama

Wasteman moves at a deliberate pace, one that mirrors the slow, grinding passage of time within the prison system. It relies less on constant action and more on tension—on the feeling that something could unravel at any moment.

There are flashes of humor and moments of emotional clarity, but this is ultimately a heavy watch. It recalls elements of The Shawshank Redemption in its humanity while carrying the moral tension of films like Training Day or Collateral, in which survival often comes at a cost.It won’t be for everyone. The violence, language, and subject matter can be difficult. But for those willing to sit with it, Wasteman offers something reflective—raising questions about survival, responsibility, and whether the choices we make under pressure can ever truly be judged from the outside. I give this film 7.5/10.