Sometimes, you gotta hit rock bottom to realize just how deep the pit is. Will you agree? Well, there’s a reason the internet’s dark side is often referred to as a ‘black hole’—you can’t unsee the abyss, no matter how hard you try. Uta Briesewitz’s American Sweatshop thrusts me headfirst into that very void, where content moderators are the unsung workers trapped in the most soul-sucking job imaginable.
A job so brutal, so psychologically taxing, that the only way out is to either burn out or lose your humanity entirely. It’s about Daisy (Lili Reinhart), who works as an internet moderator, watching video after video of violence, depravity, and chaos. Her daily grind involves approving or deleting horrific content, from suicides to animal cruelty.
When one particular video breaks her, it’s not just another day at the office—it’s a tipping point. I’m telling you, by the time Daisy starts searching for the creators of the video that has haunted her, the line between justice and madness is nothing but a blur. And trust me, things only get darker from there.
So, strap in. Let’s dig deeper!
American Sweatshop plot & review: The office of broken minds
When I first heard about American Sweatshop, I thought, “Okay, another thriller set in a dystopian future?” But no, this film—penned by Matthew Nemeth—is very much set in the here and now—an office space that could easily exist in any city. But this isn’t your average cubicle farm.
Picture rows of weary faces hunched over computers, clicking through the worst the internet has to offer. Content moderators don’t just click ‘delete’; they are the arbiters of internet decency, sifting through a flood of beheadings, animal torture, and NSFW content, all while being underpaid and overworked.
It’s a job that breaks people, as we see in Daisy’s own psychological unraveling.
Director Uta Briesewitz’s approach to this material is refreshingly restrained. We never fully see the content that’s driving Lili Reinhart’s Daisy to the edge, which makes the horror all the more potent. It’s like watching a person spiral, and as an audience, I feel trapped right alongside them.
The sound design does a great job of letting us hear the horrors, with titles flashing on the screen that let us know exactly what we’re not seeing— “Fetus in Blender,” “Man Run Over by Train”, —it’s unsettling without being gratuitous.
But the office is full of characters who are all just as broken as Daisy. Bob (Joel Fry) is the office wild card, always on the brink of exploding, while Ava (Daniela Melchior) seems totally unaffected by the horrors around her. And Paul (Jeremy Ang Jones), the naive new guy, is so sweet and earnest, it’s almost painful to watch him slowly lose his innocence.
Every character is a mirror of the system they work in—a system that churns them up and spits them out, with no regard for their well-being.
Daisy’s descent: Lili Reinhart’s gripping, conflicted performance
But let’s talk about Daisy because this movie is really her story. Lili Reinhart’s portrayal of this character is strikingly heartfelt and profoundly human. She’s not just another cog in the corporate machine—she’s a woman battling to stay afloat in a world that seems indifferent to her mental well-being. She’s not just another office worker plodding through her day. Daisy is someone who’s desperately trying to keep her head above water in a world that doesn’t give a damn about her mental health.
That is, until one specific video breaks her. And when I say it breaks her, I mean it—this is where Daisy goes off the rails. She starts to question everything. The numbness that’s been her shield? It’s gone, and what takes its place is an obsession. She needs to find the creator of the video. And here’s where the movie could’ve easily lost its footing. As Daisy spirals into vigilante mode, I find myself questioning, “Is this a thriller now? A social commentary? Or a slasher flick?”
The film seems a little conflicted about its own identity. One minute, it’s a character study about labor exploitation; the next, it’s a psychological thriller that feels like something out of Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver. But I’ll tell you this: I was glued to the screen, even when the plot started to wobble.
Daisy’s transformation from a weary office worker to someone on a personal mission for justice is both tragic and fascinating. She’s a mess, but that’s what makes her so human. And while I won’t spoil the ending, let’s just say it goes into territory that’s both unexpected and unsatisfying. It’s a twist—but whether it’s a good one, I’m still not sure.
American Sweatshop: A dark parallel to Black Mirror & The Social Network?
American Sweatshop serves up a hauntingly familiar dish, and if you’ve ever been glued to Black Mirror or The Social Network, you’ll find yourself nodding in recognition. Lili Reinhart’s portrayal of Daisy has pulled me through a maze of psychological turmoil, much like the tragic characters in Black Mirror who spiral down the rabbit hole of tech’s darker side.
Daisy is caught in a virtual rat race, facing a system that chews people up and spits them out, leaving them with nothing but scars and shattered spirits. The episodes in Black Mirror often explore the price we pay for a world increasingly governed by technology, and American Sweatshop echoes this perfectly—just with fewer creepy futuristic gadgets and more soul-crushing reality.
In a similar vein, The Social Network paints a portrait of ambition running rampant, where Mark Zuckerberg’s icy ambition clashes with the human cost of success. But here’s where American Sweatshop takes the cake—it flips the script. While The Social Network revels in Silicon Valley’s slick, calculated ambition, this film zooms in on the unseen casualties—those cleaning up the mess that tech companies make, yet never getting a thank you or a pat on the back.
Ergo, if Black Mirror makes you question where we’re headed and The Social Network makes you wonder who’s winning the race, American Sweatshop asks the bigger, more uncomfortable question: “Who’s getting crushed beneath it all?”
Is American Sweatshop worth a watch?
American Sweatshop raises tough questions about the price we pay to keep the internet humming, though it sometimes stumbles in finding its footing. While Daisy’s journey kept me hooked (even if it occasionally took a detour into “where are we going with this?”), the characters around her added the depth I didn’t know I needed.
Sure, the movie doesn’t drop any earth-shattering new insights about labor exploitation, but it delivers a chilling and all-too-familiar reflection of a world where the unseen labor behind our digital lives remains largely ignored.
So, would I recommend it? Absolutely, if you’re prepared for a deep dive into the psyche of a modern-day worker ensnared in a system that’s indifferent to their mental and physical toll. But fair warning: don’t expect any heartwarming moments here. This isn’t your typical feel-good flick.
American Sweatshop had its world premiere at the 2025 SXSW Film & TV Festival.
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