While covering Salem Horror Fest a couple of years ago, I had the immense privilege of meeting director Jake Myers. Introduced via a mutual friend, a group of us, including Myers, enjoyed drinks at Notch Brewery, holding court like old philosophers as we discussed film, culture, society, and who knows what else. I hadn’t seen the short Myers entered into the festival when we met (the unfortunate nature of festival decision-making), but he was kind enough to let me check it out later. That was when I was first introduced to Kombucha, Myers’ then short film about a life-altering beverage. Had I known then the kind of immense horror Myers’ film about a sinister concoction wrought, I may have had second thoughts about drinking anything with him.

It’s now a couple of years later, and I couldn’t be happier for Myers, whose feature-length treatment on Kombucha has begun tearing it up at film festivals, premiering at Dances with Films in June and having just played FrightFest last week. The indie auteur has fashioned an homage to old-school pod people movies that’s smart, scary, and all kinds of fun, as he satirizes corporate narcissism and the dwindling individuality of a society forced to pursue money over their aspirations.

Kombucha concerns Luke (Terrence Carey), a soulful musician who feels that the frustrations of a regular job would hinder his passions for playing music. As such, Luke’s girlfriend, Elyse (Paige Bourne), is growing disenchanted with his pursuit, supporting Luke in his endeavors to launch his music career. Excited by an opportunity to impress a music industry representative at an open mic night, Luke becomes frustratingly disappointed when the industry man doesn’t show. However, Andy (Jesse Kendall), an old friend of Luke’s, sees him perform and offers Luke a job to work with him at Symbio. When Elyse asks if Luke’s considering the offer, the two end up pulling the plug on their relationship instead.

If I have any gripe with Kombucha, it’s legitimately ingrained in Symbio’s hiring process. Luke is hired on the spot instead of suffering for months, anticipating communication that may or may not arrive, then interviewing three additional times over the next two months, before finally and reluctantly being offered a job on a third interview. Despite being an evil corporation, you have to admire their streamlined onboarding process, as well as Luke’s incomparable starting salary.

Unsure what Symbio does, Luke’s boss, Kelsey (Claire McFadden), shares the company’s mission of transforming workplace cultures by curating Kombucha beverages for workplaces. Citing the probiotic drink’s multiple health benefits, Kelsey tells Luke that by partaking in the beverage, he’ll quickly unify his guttural and mental focus with the rest of the staff’s, leading to higher productivity and future opportunity. Luke tries to keep up by maintaining his daily coffee routine, but finds his non-compliance is inherently frowned upon. Wanting to win back Elyse by showing her that he can survive the nine-to-five, he drinks the corporate Kool-Aid, sending the viewer on a wild roller-coaster ride of unexpected terror.

Myers’ film is incredibly well done. After seeing the proof-of-concept short, I admit that I wondered how Myers’ film would translate into an elongated feature. The short is a rather perfect encapsulation of the film, but Myers and co-writer Geoff Bakken’s extended take knows exactly what buttons to push and when. Kombucha is immersive, relatable, and hilariously clever. Any imaginative person who has ever grinded through soul-sucking jobs in order to fuel their creative pursuits can understand the necessary evil a company like Symbio represents, especially when creative hearts belong to ventures that capitalistic societies consider frivolous.

Kombucha is exceptional in promoting notions of passion over the pursuit of wealth, depicting the internal rebellions that exist within people as they adapt to careers that pervade their entire lifestyle. One way is through the turned Kombucha drinkers, who work on Saturdays and enter Severance-like cycles, where they seemingly wake up at work again after staying late the night before. As a film reviewer who has to hold down two other jobs in order to keep his head above water, Kombucha is exceptionally good at understanding the resentment of being a dogged servant to cutthroat companies that say “we’re a team,” or “everyone here is family,” but will ultimately replace you in a heartbeat.

Myers’ patience and setup rely heavily on the film capturing the pain and beauty of the world. Shots like Gabi (Lili Galluzzo) playing and being escorted off the steps leading to a corporate skyscraper, and then showing up to play at an open mic, subtly infer the bold, uncompromising resiliency of creators who aren’t afraid to pick themselves up and keep going. Gabi serves as a baseline to Luke, someone with similar talent who is undeterred by how she’s perceived, authentically struggling for change on a sidewalk. She’s a soulful ray of light outside the cold, brutalist buildings where the people inside make multi-million-dollar deals. And it’s all for the love of performing music. As Luke continues to climb the Symbio ladder, Gabi’s beaming personal satisfaction in front of a microphone is compared with Luke’s change in personality. The audience witnesses the vampyric siphoning of Luke’s soul as Gabi persists.

Myers’ film is also one of the most concise horror film experiences I’ve encountered in the indie space in recent memory. Myers is methodical in what he shows you and when. That’s the sign of fantastic preparation and a great second unit, the team that usually picks up the B-roll and the connective tissue of the film. Kombucha’s presentation is a glittering example of why this unit is so vital.

One of the common threads among FrightFest movies this year, in my experience anyway, has been the outstanding ensemble casts and permeating themes of the films. Corporate culture received further satire in Illya Konstantin’s Night of Violence, which also had its share of remarkable talent among its actors. Luke, Elyse, and Kelsey’s eventual love triangle effectively conveys the depth of the actors’ talents. The audience becomes enamored with the likable characters, wanting to see them succeed, while also loving the comedic prowess of McFadden’s Kelsey and Kendall’s Andy on the opposing side. Even Charin Alvarez’s role as Tammy, the mother of a woman who died while working for Symbio, becomes an odd character you can’t help but anxiously root for.

While Kombucha may not be treading new ground in its portrayal of culty corporate office behavior (see: How Was Your Weekend?, Bloodsucking Bastards, Severance), the film’s uniqueness lies in its relatability. While that will be an interesting sliding scale for the film’s audience, I think most people have felt the manipulative tactics these institutions employ in trying to get workers to adjust to their corporate culture. The horror elements, including an awesome Kombucha mother monster, are gravy after that. However, one thing is certain: you’ll truly dread going into work on Monday morning.