Paramount Pictures presents a new kind of American horror. Passenger is a vanlife thriller film that taunts both its characters and audiences by casting roads as places where people go missing and never return—or, more sinisterly, as a trip to death. The film would be stale and non-threatening without its supernatural stalker, ambushed young couple, and merciless director who refuses to soften the unexpected jump scares, terrifying audiences out of their wits. But, can all this blind the audience from its flat, slow-burning ending?
A new supernatural horror movie comes to theaters with director André Øvredal and producer Walter Hamada to share something different than a traditional haunted house story. Instead, it’s a haunted road horror with Maddie (Lou Llobell) and Tyler (Jacob Scipio) centered on its novel premise. After reading other critics’ comments on Paramount Pictures’ lack of promotion for Passenger, it is safe to admit that not even the eerie 10 million-view YouTube trailer promised a huge opening week at the box office. What a way to waste its well-executed trailer.
The opening lines of the trailer introduce the audience to something far more sinister than they anticipated for a “supernatural” horror film. Text immediately appears on the screen, saying: “Last year, over 130 million people took road trips…15,400 of them were never seen again.” Subsequent to its warnings, a horrified driver continuously watches a standing man with an uncanny face through his car window—now he’s in a loophole. I assumed it was a concept similar to Until Dawn. However, this is different—I understood right away that this was more of a haunting-demonic chase sequence.
Within the first five minutes, we’re already on the edge of our seats, ready to find a safe place to hide from unprepared jump scares—no opening scenes from the Scream franchise have ever boiled my blood like the one in Passenger. What makes our bodies tremble is the slow 360-degree camera work, where the camera slowly does a 360-degree rotation in the midst of a heart-stopping moment: an opportunity for the demonic stalker to emerge.
We’re not working with our usual “show the character open the fridge door with nothing scary standing behind it” type of direction—this is a director with jump scares that even avid horror fans aren’t prepared for. These off-guard moments, though, are not a new idea of André Øvredal’s. He has a history of these gut-wrenching scenes, as seen in The Autopsy of Jane Doe and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (my anticipation for a sequel has been running for years now).
“There’s only one villain in this horror film” is the one misconception made about this movie because, in fact, there are two villains tormenting the young couple. It is not only the demonic entity that stalks them, but also the desolate roads that bring about evil.
Six weeks into this nomadic life, Maddie and Tyler take the van to many places—a neighborhood, a campsite for van lifers, and an empty beach. The supernatural entity attachment could’ve begun in any of those destinations. However, the director makes it clear: roads can lead to deadly circumstances.
These human moments—stopping on the bare road at night to release yourself, and experiencing a nomadic life—are regretful decisions that make both characters and the audience stop on the road again and again. Like the last-minute plan Maddy makes to rest and stop at a motel rather than persist in their travel to the next destination during daylight. On the way to the motel, Maddy makes a mistake: observing the ring her fiancé, Tyler, proposed with while driving. What follows is the crash they come to witness.
This film exposes a substantial amount of truths, and one of them is to be careful who you let behind the wheel—yes, even the passenger princess.
As much as the audience anticipates Maddy and Tyler’s escape from the hellroads and attached demon, it is not very simple to wish that fate upon them. The cinematography leans more into what these roads and supernatural entities can do to take the premise far. So, this wish comes from the lack of backstory and history of the roads, along with the little screentime the demon is given. This film barely has close-up angles of this demon, which is necessary to understand the “how come” of this demon and why it latches onto people stopping on the road.
The story revolves mostly around the young couple’s relationship, yet the intimacy feels neutral, and the future of this “married life” seems arid and unpromising. The story also doesn’t touch on a particular character’s version of a “good life,” which makes the ending difficult to accept.
In spite of spending more time on the character than the actual villain, alongside a scarcity of backstory, this film does execute its idea: strange roads can lead to something even stranger. If I were André Øvredal, I would consider working on a prequel to explore more of the “People don’t take trips, trips take them” storyline.
Grade: B
Passenger is now playing in theaters.
