‘Hallow Road’ Review: Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys Are Riveting in Claustrophobic Real-Time Parental Nightmare

In natural and easy to read language,

The latest film by British Iranian director Babak Anvari, following his impressive 2016 debut Under the Shadow, is as tight and tense as they come. For the majority of its duration, Hallow Road takes place inside a car, with worried parents rushing to reach their college-aged daughter before she needs help. This film essentially revolves around just two characters, but it could have been just an exercise in building tension if not for the outstanding performances of Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys. Their intense portrayals raise the suspense level significantly, as the psychological aspect of the thriller gradually gives way to a more ominous mythical dimension.

In William Gillies’ first screenplay, the initial scene is swiftly established and concise. As cinematographer Kit Fraser’s camera gradually explores a house, it reveals an untouched dinner on the table and shattered glass on the floor, hinting at a heated discussion that interrupted their meal. Maddie (Pike) is stirred from sleep by the sharp electronic beep of a smoke alarm battery warning, which doesn’t rouse her husband Frank (Rhys), sleeping in another room. However, when Maddie answers a 2 a.m. call from their anxious daughter Alice (Megan McDonnell), Frank quickly wakes up.

In this version, I aimed to maintain the original meaning while making it more accessible and easier to understand for readers.

It becomes apparent that Maddie, who resides off-home at college, returned to discuss crucial updates with her parents and seek their counsel. Their unfavorable responses ignited an argument, resulting in Alice fleeing from the house and rushing away in her father’s vehicle. Several hours later, Alice disclosed that she was navigating a forest beyond the city on an unlit road when a young woman of around her age darted out from the woods and straight into the path of her car. The individual is now lying on the road, apparently lifeless.

Maddie effectively captures the family dynamics as she observes Alice and provides guidance, disregarding Frank’s concerned inquiries about the situation. Since Maddie is an expert paramedic, she naturally takes charge, making it difficult for Frank to intervene. Although the roles are not always this straightforward, there seems to be a hint that Frank often plays the supportive role while Alice’s behavior suggests she frequently finds herself in trouble and relies on them to help her sort things out.

During the ongoing phone call in the vehicle, the situation intensifies. Alice, hiding truths from her parents, grows increasingly frantic, while Maddie and Frank argue vehemently over their differing strategies. Maddie advocates for contacting the police; Frank insists on rushing to aid Alice before the cops show up, regardless of the need to concoct a false story.

Gillies’ writing provokes intriguing queries regarding the extent a parent might venture to secure their child’s safety, and if such actions foster or hinder the maturation process of young adults.

Anvari masterfully manages to maintain momentum within the limited setting, and this is particularly evident with characters like Pike and Rhys. Their faces are illuminated by the soft light coming from the dashboard and navigation system, often contrasted by the red of traffic signals or the warm amber of street lamps. The dynamic camera angles used by Fraser effectively mirror the turmoil inside their minds.

The two performers’ sharp portrayals create a dynamic interplay, with their energy fluctuating between intense and volatile one moment, and utterly subdued the next. Their conflicts suggest tension within their marriage. It is revealed that Maddie has been grappling with the aftermath of a poor choice at her job, causing her to become more fragile and withdrawn.

As we forge ahead, the suspense lingers, sending a nagging unease coursing through me since our destination still eludes us, even with Frank’s repeated promises that it’s just around the corner. Anvari and Gillies crank up the tension a few notches by introducing another vehicle on the road carrying Alice, leading to some hasty moves on my part. A peculiar woman and her husband pull over to lend a hand, yet she persists in her insistence, finding it hard to believe that my parents will arrive soon.

As a captivated listener, I find myself drawn into tales of Hallow Road, a mysterious path that cuts through the heart of a forest, steeped in myths and legends within this region – although its precise location remains veiled behind fictional names, hinting at somewhere deep within the U.K. or Ireland. The curiosity of the woman, whose voice echoes over the phone and eludes my sight, initially appears to stem from concern. However, her tone gradually shifts, becoming more suggestive, even accusatory, not just towards Alice on the line but also towards Maddie and Frank, whom she addresses through the same medium.

By showcasing exceptional technical prowess and top-notch acting abilities within the constraints of a compact, confined setting, the film Hallow Road mirrors Steven Knight’s similarly road-bound production, Locke, starring Tom Hardy.

Using the haunting melodies and stormy harmonies of Lorne Balfe and Peter Adams’ atmospheric soundtrack, which blends aspects of Depeche Mode’s “Behind the Wheel,” Anvari’s film skillfully straddles the line between psychological suspense and chilling folklore-based horror. The unsettling uncertainties gain deeper dimensions when a surprising twist is unveiled in the end credits.

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2025-03-10 20:54