Passenger Review: A Breakdown on the Highway to Nowhere

André Øvredal’s Passenger promises a fresh spin on the road-trip-gone-wrong subgenre. What it delivers instead is ninety minutes of mindless horror clichés that stall long before the final credits. The setup is serviceable: a bickering couple, Tyler and Maddie, pick up a supernatural hitchhiker after a highway accident. But logic, like their brake lights, quickly goes dark.

Let’s start with the implausibility that sinks the entire journey. These are modern American road travellers, yet the glove compartment contains exactly zero defensive tools. No pepper spray, no pocketknife, not a single firearm – this in a country where van-lifers routinely pack heat for wildlife and worse. The film’s central tension relies on our protagonists being utterly helpless, but that helplessness feels manufactured, not earned.

Then there’s the question of basic common sense. Our villain – a demonic clawed presence – attacks repeatedly, yet our heroes never think to call 911 until the third act. Even then, the call drops conveniently. No dashcam footage uploaded to social media. No GPS tracker shared with friends. No text to a state trooper. The script actively sabotages any smart use of mobile technology, trapping the couple in a pre-smartphone era that makes zero sense for a film set today. Police are mentioned but never appear – not a single patrol car on endless, empty highways. It’s lazy writing dressed as atmosphere.

The worst offence, however, is the ending. After a decently tense middle stretch, Passenger rushes to a bafflingly lame conclusion. Without spoiling: the resolution involves a sudden, unmotivated sacrifice that feels ripped from a first-draft screenplay. The entity is defeated not through cleverness or courage, but through a tired CGI blur. Credits roll before you can blink, leaving more plot holes than pavement. Avoid this ride.

Elven Ho