road trip

Hallow Road (15)

Director: Babak Anvari
Screenplay: William Gillies

Starring: Rosamund Pike, Matthew Rhys, Megan McDonnell
Running time: 80 minutes

Cinema

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Review: RJ Bland

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Who doesn’t love a tightly wound contained thriller? There’s just something about watching a character (or set of) confined to one location that’s satisfying on a level that you can’t quite put your finger on. Perhaps it’s the intimacy and focus such settings bring, or maybe it’s the mounting claustrophobia that creates an ever-present tension. Either way, these largely single-location narratives often place a heightened emphasis on character development and force filmmakers to think creatively in order to avoid narrative stagnation. It’s a challenging balancing act, but when executed well, these films can become veritable powder kegs of suspense. Devil (2010), Phone Booth (2002), Red Eye (2005) are all solid examples. And then there are a few films that double down on this self-containment. They place us in a situation where our confinement means that we are cut off from where the ‘action’ is happening. Think Pontypool (2008), where a radio station follows the outbreak of a deadly virus via calls from a panicked audience in a nearby town. Or Danish thriller The Guilty (2018), where a police officer taking calls at an Emergency Desk gets a peculiar phone call from a woman who may or may not have been abducted. These films won’t suit everyone’s taste, but for those who enjoy engaging their imagination and piecing together the narrative from a distance, the experience can be deeply rewarding. With that in mind, Babak Anvari’s upcoming feature Hallow Road looks like it could be another strong addition to the canon - and one that might resonate with fans of this uniquely suspenseful format.

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It’s 2 a.m., and in the dining room of an elegant, plush looking home, the remnants of an unfinished meal and shards of broken glass scattered across the floor suggest that dinner ended in something far more dramatic than dessert. Maddie (Rosamund Pike) and her husband Frank (Matthew Rhys) are asleep in separate rooms - an early hint at underlying tension - until Maddie is abruptly awakened by the shrill beeping of a dying smoke alarm battery (don’t you just hate it when that happens). Moments later, Maddie receives a call from her 18-year-old daughter, Alice. It's immediately apparent that something went very wrong at dinner. Alice had stormed out after a serious family argument, taking her father’s car. But she isn’t calling to reconcile. Her voice trembling, she tells her mother that she’s been in an accident. While driving along a remote country road, someone suddenly ran out in front of the car - and Alice hit them.

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She says she’s already called an ambulance. Maddie, a trained paramedic, switches instinctively into professional mode, trying to coach her daughter through the initial response and assess the situation from afar. Frank and Maddie tell Alice they’re on their way, heading out into the night with urgency and anxiety mounting by the minute.

As they navigate the winding back roads, a growing sense of unease takes hold. Is the person Alice struck going to survive? How will they help their daughter cope with the trauma of what’s just happened? But before long, it becomes clear that this tragic incident is only the beginning. More unexpected - and potentially more unsettling - complications are just around the corner…

Heading into Hallow Road, it’s probably worth knowing that the majority of the film is set in a car. That may feel a bit like a spoiler to some but trust us, if you go in expecting a conventional format set across multiple locations, then you might be disappointed. That’s not to say Hallow Road doesn’t go places – the car is literally on the road for much of the film, but the action is restricted to the interior of their vehicle. Now that may sound too stuffy and enclosed for some, we get it. Being stuck in a car for any length of time can become tiring after all. But thankfully, some stellar central performances, a genre fluid plot and a building sense of dread mean that this is a road trip worth taking.

Rather than viewing the single location as a creative constraint, Director Babak Anvari seizes it as an opportunity to tell this story in a distinctive way. If we can’t see what is going on where most of the action is unfolding, then you have to find another way to make us feel involved, to care…and be scared. The performances of both Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys do just that. We are in close quarters with them throughout the ordeal, and every flicker of emotion and nuance in their delivery feels amplified. Crucially, the script from William Gillies presents two very real, relatable (albeit flawed) characters. They may have their differences and there is drama to be found in the gradual reveal of their relationship, but they make sound logical decisions at (almost) every turn. If we were spending this journey with a couple of bickering assholes then you’d be forgiven for wanting to open the door and roll out of this particular vehicle, but their performances keep you gripped. Just watching Rosamund Pike’s reactions to what is happening on the other end of the phone is enough to raise goosebumps.

In a film so reliant on what we hear rather than see, the sound design becomes critical. So much of the tension and drama unfolds through a mobile phone. Alice’s desperate attempts to revive the victim, her panic when she thinks she sees another car approaching and some genuinely chilling exchanges she has in the last act really are all executed with precision. At times, the experience feels akin to a radio drama, albeit a bloody good one. The audience is left to imagine much of the horror, which may prove either deeply engaging or potentially frustrating, depending on your tastes. For us, it’s firmly the former. And when it all ends, you’ll be left with more than a few lingering thoughts to unpack.