The Line (currently streaming on Hulu) illustrates a critical reality: college fraternities often foster toxic masculinity. This is not a groundbreaking notion—it’s as expected as life’s other certainties like death and taxes. Yet, director Ethan Berger draws some gripping drama from this environment, featuring Alex Wolff (Hereditary, Pig) as a sophomore fraternity member starting to question his organization’s conduct and beliefs. While the lessons uncovered may not surprise those already wary, it’s intriguing to witness what feels like a tight-knit cult engaging in unpleasant activities.

The Gist: The year is 2014, notably before the #MeToo movement and other significant cultural shifts, which might otherwise color this tale differently. Tom Backster (Wolff) eagerly anticipates his sophomore year at Sumpter College, now a proud member of Kappa Nu Alpha, or as enthusiastically chanted, KNA! KNA! KNA! Coming from a working-class background, he doesn’t fully blend in with the fraternity’s elite, but he manages, adopting an affectation of superiority and a Southern drawl to match those around him. His mother (Cheri Oteri) playfully mocks him for sounding like Forrest Gump, yet he insists that “relationships are everything.” Tom is aware that past U.S. Presidents have been KNA members, making it a hub for future corporate leaders. Essentially, it’s a paradise for affluent White men.

This is exemplified by Tom’s close friend and roommate Mitch (Bo Mitchell), who would be inconspicuous if not for his wealth, courtesy of his father (John Malkovich!), a KNA alumnus with money to spare. Despite his status, Mitch endures ridicule from his fraternity peers and often acts out with obnoxious and boorish antics. Mitch is a mix of Private Pyle and Bluto Blutarsky, meaning he’s not someone you’d want to watch eat messy food. Tom stands by Mitch but also gains favor with KNA president Todd Stevens (Lewis Pullman), who entrusts him to give an important speech to the new pledges while he’s away. Todd’s suggestion? Look to the speech from Gladiator for inspiration.

Perhaps it’s worth noting that KNA has been disciplined no less than 17 times for hazing. Perhaps it’s also worth noting that they don’t give a single stinking shit about that. Their first order of business is to don their ugly Hawaiian shirts and backwards ballcaps with wraparound shades resting on the brims, and get to work hoovering cocaine, slamming beers and thinning the herd of freshmen lining up to fill in the ranks of their depraved moral cesspool and therefore be subject to all manner of ritual degradation and humiliation before fast-tracking their way to their trust funds. Meanwhile, Tom actually attends class, and nurses a crush on Annabelle (Halle Bailey), who the KNA guys call “that Black lesbian” because she doesn’t shave her armpits. Tom attempts to strike up a conversation with her, but his reputation precedes him: “Go f— yourself” is her reply. 

The bros watch a slideshow of potential pledges and YEA or NAY them – a fellow with brown skin is quickly dismissed as “too dark,” although frankly, we can’t tell any of these loathsome White boys apart. One particularly loathsome Caucasian turd, Gettys O’Brien (Austin Abrams) gets a vehement rejection from Mitch, and, despite the spittle flinging from his face, he has a point, because Gettys is an arrogant and entitled little shit, the kind of guy you actually might not mind watching lick toilets or whatever it is the bros will make him do. But he’s enough of a sneering pissant to fit in perfectly at KNA, and he’s from the right privileged stock, so Gettys is in, thus setting in motion some ugly shit that’s even uglier than the ugly shit we’ve already seen.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: I’ve already alluded to The Line being like Animal House crossed with Full Metal Jacket, so here it is for you, plain as day, in black and white.

Performance Worth Watching: Mitchell, in his first major role (he’s popped up in episodes of Cobra Kai and Eastbound and Down) is, simply put, terrifying. Full-blown sociopathy. Perfect Fortune 500 CEO material, in other words.

Memorable Dialogue: Praise from an admirer of Tom’s pledge speech: “You sounded like Bush 43 out there, man!”

Sex and Skin: None.

Our Take: It apparently takes several dozen quaffs from the plastic pitcher for Tom to realize that the Kool-Aid is poisoned. Such is the primary dramatic arc of The Line, a title that refers to a thing its protagonist eventually learns was crossed a while back. He barely noticed, because KNA strips individuals down via psychological and physical punishment and pretty much brainwashes them until they conform to an ideology that greenlights the type of racist, sexist and generally abusive behavior that men – especially White men – with money and influence so often get away with in America. And then they get rewarded for that behavior! It’s a program that cycles young shitty human beings into positions of power so the old shitty human beings can retire and die. The shitty human being replacement industry is a key part of the American system. And where else would the shittiest of shitty human beings come from rather than Deep South college fraternities?

I’m not sure The Line offers much insight or criticism beyond that, but it’s nonetheless a pretty riveting and believable portrayal of boys behaving badly. The drama proceeds as expected in the third act, because it seems inevitable that Tom won’t cross the line that’s past the line that’s past another line (that’s probably past another line), since his middle-class background hasn’t conditioned him to compartmentalize evil as easily as the rest of his bros. Bailey is underused here, a potential love interest who seems smart enough to know better but doesn’t act on that knowledge; she essentially functions as a moral signpost for a protagonist who’s otherwise surrounded by trash-eatin’ stinkbags. But with Berger’s grainy cinematography, grim lighting and low-angle shots on Mitch’s scowling face, The Line is a horror show you can’t look away from.

Our Call: Frats are essentially cults, eh? I’ll buy that argument. STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.