'Hallow Road' Review: Babak Anvari’s Tense Thriller Explores Parental Fear and Mythic Horror
Hallow Road, British-Iranian director Babak Anvari’s latest offering, is a taut and unrelenting psychological thriller that builds on the intensity of his acclaimed 2016 debut, Under the Shadow. In contrast to his earlier work, this film takes a minimalist approach, largely unfolding within the confines of a car. The narrative follows an anxious set of parents who race through the night in response to a distressing call from their college-age daughter. With high-stakes performances from Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys, Hallow Road delivers a psychological slow burn that gradually introduces a darker, mythic dimension.
Rosamund Pike in 'Hallow Road.'
Julie Vrabelova
The film's structure is streamlined and impactful, particularly in William Gillies' debut screenplay. The opening scenes set the tone of unease: a house in disarray with an uneaten dinner and broken glass, suggesting a sudden argument that has interrupted a family dinner. Maddie (Pike) is abruptly awakened by the sharp sound of a smoke alarm, but her husband, Frank (Rhys), remains oblivious. When Maddie answers a late-night phone call from their distressed daughter Alice (Megan McDonnell), Frank quickly becomes alert to the looming crisis.
As the plot unfolds, it is revealed that Alice had returned home to share significant news with her parents. After a tense disagreement, Alice fled the house and, while driving through a secluded forest, accidentally ran over a young woman. Now, Alice is stranded with the injured woman on the road, potentially facing her own crisis.
The tension between Maddie and Frank emerges early in the film. Maddie, an experienced paramedic, immediately takes control, instructing Alice through the phone, while Frank struggles to keep up. This dynamic hints at deeper family patterns: Maddie, the more authoritative figure, contrasts with Frank, who often assumes the role of the protective, "good cop" in their relationship with Alice. As the narrative progresses, the arguments between Maddie and Frank highlight not only their differing views on how to handle the situation but also the broader psychological complexities of their family dynamic.
Gillies' screenplay raises intriguing questions about parental protection and the impact of these instincts on a child’s development. As Maddie and Frank debate their next steps, the urgency of the situation escalates. Maddie insists on involving the authorities, while Frank is determined to reach Alice before the police arrive—willing to lie in order to protect his daughter.
Anvari’s direction excels in creating mounting tension despite the film’s limited setting. The performances of Pike and Rhys, intensified by the car’s dim lighting and fluctuating dashboard glow, effectively convey their characters’ internal turmoil. Cinematographer Kit Fraser’s restless camera angles reflect the growing anxiety and confusion of the characters, turning every twist and turn of the road into a metaphor for their psychological state.
The film also introduces an eerie new character: a woman who, after finding Alice stranded, speaks of Hallow Road, a place steeped in local myth. Her increasingly sinister tone adds another layer of tension, as she becomes more insistent and accusatory, both with Alice and the parents. This interaction gradually shifts the film from a straightforward family drama into an unsettling psychological thriller with folkloric horror elements.
The atmosphere is further enhanced by a haunting score from Lorne Balfe and Peter Adams, whose synth-driven soundscapes recall the darker tones of Depeche Mode’s Behind the Wheel. The music, paired with Anvari’s atmospheric direction, strikes a perfect balance between psychological thriller and eerie supernatural horror.
In its confined space, Hallow Road recalls Steven Knight's Locke—a film that also thrived on tension within the limits of a single setting. The film’s chilling ambiguity deepens with an unexpected revelation in the end credits, solidifying Hallow Road as an unforgettable ride into both parental fear and folkloric terror.
