The issue-based film has been around since the 1930s, but one topic that’s rarely been touched upon thoughtfully is homelessness. The explanation is simple; it’s a systemic problem that’s existed for decades without significant change, and there’s less potential to tell a maudlin story because few A-list stars would be willing to “ugly themselves up” to that degree. Mel Brooks caught flack for his satirical look at poverty with 1991’s Life Stinks, perhaps the biggest misfire of his career, but it’s a film with more patience and progressive intent than The Pursuit of Happyness, The Soloist, or any number other saccharine films with similar themes. One of the most memorable jokes in Robert Altman’s The Player is the proposition by Griffin Mill (Tim Robbins) of an English-language remake of Bicycle Thieves, with the punchline that American audiences couldn’t bear to think about penury if it wasn’t conveyed to them through an artsy international drama.
Tow never would’ve been produced if it wasn’t given the vague description of being “based on a true story,” but thanks to director Stephanie Laing there’s little hyperbole, given that the subjects appear in newly-recorded videos within the ending credits. In 2017, the homeless Seattle woman Amanda Ogle (Rose Byrne) had her car stolen shortly after being offered her first job opportunity in months. Ogle’s car was also her place of residence, and she spent half a year trying to collect the funds to have it released before the towing company sold it. This resulted in a lawsuit brought upon by the young lawyer Kevin Eggers (Dominic Sessa), a fresh-faced graduate of Seattle University who helped Ogle sue the company for its egregious charge of $21,634, which is far more than she’d reasonably make in a year.
The challenge with any sensitive subject like the one in Tow is whether the film has positioned its protagonist as being a “role” for an actor to transform themselves into that’s defined by overstated quirks. Ogle is a prickly character, but her idiosyncrasies are explained by authentic disadvantages, and not tools of dramatic manipulation. Her drinking issues aren’t inserted for the sake of additional gravitas, but because it’s often that unhoused individuals develop addictions and aren’t properly given recovery treatment; the stigma of being labeled an addict can also prevent them from being given reasonable accommodations. On a baseline storytelling level, Ogle’s lack of a vehicle has a direct narrative impact because it’s prevented her from seeing her daughter, Avery (Elsie Fisher), who’s grown up in another state with foster parents.
That the true story of Tow isn’t well-known is further indication that the film’s intentions are pure because there wouldn’t be any benefit of hijacking an obscure news report; this isn’t a case like Erin Brokovich. Byrne doesn’t deglamorize herself, but she also doesn’t pull any punches in the depiction of an embittered woman who’s fed up with a broken justice system. It’s an interesting companion piece to Byrne’s Oscar-nominated performance in last year’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, in which she played a very different version of a stressed-out single parent. Both films are evenly split between comedy and drama, but Tow is more of a “heartwarming dramedy,” and If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is an acidic satire.
The reality of a low-budget production like Tow is that it has to be stacked with stars, or at least notable actors in the supporting roles to gain funding, even if it would’ve been better to find unknowns. The most important part the film needed to nail was Eggers, and Sessa couldn’t have been a better choice. He’s the rare young actor who built his career purely on independent dramas, and Tow is his second great performance in 2025 after Tony, in which he pulled off challenge of portraying a young Anthony Bourdain. Eggers is a role that could’ve fallen into the stereotypical “well-meaning but ignorant” category, but Sessa can convey enthusiasm without irony, and is able to show that the law student might have some wisdom for Ogle. Sessa is so good that Tow might’ve worked better as a two-hander with him and Byrne.
No one embarrassed themselves in Tow, but every character outside of Ogle and Sessa is manufactured for a critical moment in which the actor can deliver a heartfelt speech direct-to-camera. Octavia Spencer is a no-nonsense homeless shelter manager that’s no different from the characters she played in The Help, Hidden Figures, and The Shape of Water, and Ariana DeBose’s role as a fellow shelter resident is another addition to one of the worst post-Oscar resumes since Cuba Gooding Jr. Fisher’s performance as the moody teenage child is without charm or distinction. The one interesting casting choice is Simon Rex as a hapless employee at the tow yard who has sympathy for Ogle, but can’t risk losing his own job. It’s a smart acknowledgment that the system is built to lock equally needy people in conflict with one another, and that it's of no use to become enemies. Rex has almost exclusively played dirtbag roles after his comeback in Sean Baker’s Red Rocket, so it's good to see him as a well-meaning nice guy.
Tow is often successful in spite of cliches, but it’s also the ideal version of this exact formula because it’s heartfelt, reasonably grounded, and has a terrific lead performance. The adaptation of this story would’ve been far more eyeroll-inducing had the film proclaimed that the case “changed the world,” but Tow is aware that Ogle was never reimbursed for the time and energy that was put into earning basic dignity.