Hallow Road

A Night Drive into Moral Fog, Speaking the Language of Fear—and Staying With You

Horror thrives in confined, singular locations—and “Hallow Road” is no exception.

While technically set across a few places, the core of the film unfolds almost entirely inside a car, driven by tense, unsettling dialogue that rarely lets up.

It’s hard to discuss this film without revealing too much, but that’s the thrill of film criticism: unpacking themes without spoiling the experience.

Directed by Babak Anvari, “Hallow Road” fits neatly into the “dashcam cinema”—a horror sub-genre where most of the story unfolds through dashboard or onboard camera footage, heightening realism and claustrophobia.

The film’s strength lies in the performances of its three leads: Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys as a married couple, and Megan McDonnell as their daughter, Alice. Together, they balance parental instinct with quiet dread, delivering performances that emotionally anchor the film.

When Alice calls her mother in a panic—having hit and killed a girl on the remote Hallow Road in the fictional town of Ashfolk—it sets off a psychological mystery told almost entirely through a phone call and in-car dialogue.

The cinematography is cloaked in shadow, using the night not just as a setting, but as a symbol of the unknown—where every frame hums with mystery, suppressed fear, and the creeping sense that something is just out of sight.

As a viewer, you’re confined with the parents—just their car, a phone, and Alice’s disembodied voice guiding you through a spiral of guilt, fear, and confusion.

The film explores how language can disturb more deeply than imagery, and how those we trust most can become sources of dread.

“Hallow Road” is a haunting meditation on parenting, moral ambiguity, and the fragile boundary between safety and threat.

It’s the kind of horror that doesn’t scream—it lingers, whispering long after the screen fades to black.

WATCHED AT:

NIFFF 2025