HALLOW ROAD / VINCENT MUST DIE Halloween Double Feature Review
Both films play together, exclusively at AMC Theatres, via XYZ Films, tomorrow. Visit the official site for locations and showtimes.
A tragic accident, a terrified teenage girl, a pair of panicked parents, and a long lonely road in the woods feature in Iranian-British director Babak Anvari’s latest chiller, Hallow Road, premiering as part of the 2025 SXSW Film & TV Festival.
When Alice (voiced by Mega McDonnell) disappears into the night after a fight with her parents, played by Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys, they are perturbed but relatively calm. However, when Alice calls and tells them that she’s been in an accident where a young girl is severely wounded, her parents spring into action, driving off in Mum’s rickety Land Rover to help. Alice is deep in the Ashfolk national forest, a place they used to vacation when she was a child, but not a place you want to get caught late at night.
There are stories about these woods; myths and legends that keep people away once the sun goes down. As Dad drives toward Alice, the phone conversation grows tense as he and Mum disagree about the best course of action, all while their daughter panics on the other end, unsure of will become of the girl she’s hurt and what the potential consequences will be. As her parents get closer, Alice’s situation gets increasingly complicated and strange events and visitors appear up the road. Are they there to help, or are they there for something else?
Hallow Road is a chilling affair, contained almost entirely to a single location for its brisk eighty-minute runtime. We are trapped with Alice’s parents in their car as they drive, only as aware of Alice’s predicament as they are; a harrowing experience for a parent. Alice has made some questionable decisions before this night, and it seems like they are catching up with her. It’s up to Mum and Dad to figure out how to handle the situation. Do they try protect her from potential harm, or help her deal with her new reality? A schism forms in the car as they attempt to play out Alice’s entire future over the course of a short drive, but it may all be for naught.
The conceit of Hallow Road as a single location horror film is a challenging one. On the one hand, horror films have long depended on the visual element as a way of developing tension, delivering scares, and enabling release for their audiences. Is it enough to hear about the terror at the other end of the phone? As the audience, aren’t we already placed in the role of spectator, unable to influence the action on screen? Does it work when that relationship is doubled through the characters on screen, or is it one too many levels removed from the danger?
Anvari is no stranger to this style of film, the unseen terror of his debut feature Under the Shadow was incredibly effective. In that case, even though we never really see the evil, we are with the characters experiencing it first-hand. However, with Hallow Road we are expected to imagine the terror Alice faces through her voice alone. It’s frequently quite effective, but not always. Alice is a vehicle – no pun intended – for the parents to self-examine their own failures. They must confront hard truths, make hard choices, and pray that it’s not too late.
When Hallow Road introduces a folk horror element to the story, it loses a bit of its efficacy for me, not because the horror is poorly utilized, but rather because it is all expected to be imagined. Terrifying imagery is described in fragments, forcing the viewer to try to piece together exactly what is going on. Again, the idea is that the parents are our substitute, but I think it’s a bit of a bridge too far here. We know they are terrified; we want to be terrified, but we don’t know what to be terrified of. Of course, this is the position of the parents, it just seems like the audience should be privy to a little bit more.
Pike and Rhys are tasked with a huge job in Hallow Road. They are both on screen the entire film and it lives and dies by their work. Thankfully, the pair is excellent, and their chemistry is palpable. They tension between them is incredible as they fight for their daughter’s soul on the other end of a call. It’s an incredible challenge, and they put up terrific performances.
Hallow Road might be one of the more divisive films of SXSW’s Midnighters selection this year. Though it’s a master class in acting from its leads, some audiences might demand more payoff from a film in this section. As for me, I am all about experimentation, and this film is certainly pushing the boundaries of what midnight horror movies can be, and for that it scores a lot of points in my book. A challenging film that rewards fans who favor tension over gore, Hallow Road features a pair of stunning lead performances in one of the most unusual horror films in recent years.
Review originally published during SXSW 2025.
Have you ever come across a person who, while they may make absolutely zero impact on your day, still has a face you just want to punch?
That’s Vincent (Karim Leklou), a passionless, personality-free office worker who is having the worst day. It’s nothing he’s done, really, but for some reason he keeps getting attacked by his co-workers. He makes a bad joke to an intern and gets punched in the mouth, he sits near another and gets stabbed in the arm, and the day has just begun.
Director Stéphan Castang’s debut feature, Vincent Must Die, finds Vincent on the run from a world full of people who are trying to kill him. There is no rhyme or reason, no inciting incident, just a swarm of violent humanity attempting to snuff him out anytime he makes eye contact. Chased away from his job after HR suggests he take a break following the stabbing, Vincent soon learns that it isn’t confined to the office, and his world closes in on him as he must now try to stay alive and away from people at all costs.
He wasn’t much of a social butterfly to begin with, and his girlfriend did just break up with him, so he has no real connections, but this is a different kind of isolation. He runs off to a rural family cabin thinking he’ll be safe, but it seems that no place is far enough to avoid the world’s rage against him.
It’s a rough life, and one at which he’s frantically grasping at straws to navigate, but with a little (or a lot) of maneuvering maybe he can make a life for himself. Or maybe he’ll just get beaten to death in a sewage pit. It’s really a toss-up.
Castang’s absurdist black comedy thriller mines the anxiety that follows a lot of wallflowers in their daily lives. Vincent is one of those people who is comfortable fading into the background, but refusing to engage with people means that you never forge the bonds of real friendship, so any acquaintance is surface level at best. What happens when that bond is tested? Who can you really trust, are your friends just tolerating you? Would they punch your stupid face if given the slightest provocation? It’s not the only question being asked by the film, but certainly one of the most relatable.
The script by Mathieu Naert, also making his feature debut, ratchets up the tension quite effectively through the course of the film. While I enjoyed the film and the work done by both Naert and Castang, the hour and forty-minute run time does feel a bit stretched at times. Both filmmakers have a lot of shorts in their respective CVs, and as a result Vincent Must Die – when it slows down – can feel like a short film stretched beyond its capacity to entertain. Thankfully the film introduces additional characters and predicaments that keep the flow going.
Particularly engaging is the relationship between Vincent and his accidental lover Margaux (Vimala Pons). At first just a kind woman who dutifully delivers food to his car, so he doesn’t have to enter a diner and risk bodily harm, their relationship evolves as she learns about his situation and is sympathetic to his plight. The way they negotiate the transition from acquaintances to something more reflects the way the world attempted to adapt to the Covid-19 crisis over the last few years. Their romantic canoodlings, carefully designed not to instigate violence, evolve in a cute sort of way, even with the occasional oopsie that may land with a bloody nose.
Vincent’s inner turmoil over his personal dilemma soon becomes a national concern as the phenomenon affects the entire country, plunging it into violent chaos as no one can seem to look their neighbor in the eye without the unstoppable urge to absolutely wreck them. No one is safe, brother turns on brother, child turns on mother, it’s almost as if an epidemic is ravaging the country and you never know who is going to get you. Hmmm. Sounds familiar.
While I did have minor issues with the connective tissue and occasionally the pacing of the character scenes, overall, I found Vincent Must Die to be a very entertaining outing. Leklou’s performance as the put-upon victim or random acts of violence is compelling and warmly invites empathy. Castang’s direction, particularly in the action sequences, is very effective and keeps the film moving between the more contemplative bits. A little bit 28 Days Later, a little bit The Quiet Place, and a lot The Sadness, Vincent Must Die is a must see.
Review originaly published during the Fantastic International Film Festival in August 2023.
