Review: PASSENGER Unleashes a Terrifying Supernatural Hitchhiker

If you thought a deluge of obnoxious "Van Life" influencers invading your TikTok algorithm was horrifying, just wait until you watch Passenger. Director André Øvredal does what he does best with a simpler, more straightforward concept: maximizes atmospheric dread. Writers Zachary Donohue and T.W. Burgess gift Øvredal the idea of a hitchhiking boogeyman, which he wrings every drop of haunted-highway scare tactics from. It's the ghost-tale version of The Hitcher or Joy Ride, and a freaky interpretation at that. Sometimes, as a horror fan, the frights hit just right.

Jacob Scipio and Lou Llobell play former Brooklynites Tyler and Maddie, who become cross-country van dwellers. Their ride, a burnt sienna Mercedes-Benz Sprinter, has been converted into their home on the road. It's Tyler's dream to live wild and free, but one night, while Maddie is driving, their adventure turns into a nightmare. Maddie witnesses a freak accident and stops to aid, only for their vehicle to get a three-clawed slash mark into its paint job—the same as on the crashed sedan. From then on, Maddie feels a presence that's always watching, sometimes from inside the van. Much to her paranoia, they seem to have picked up a paranormal tag-alonger.

Passenger tackles the creative challenge of filming within confined, in-motion spaces with an eerily claustrophobic feeling. Cinematographer Federico Verardi uses equipment that can fit in the Sprinter to capture hard-to-maneuver angles, ensuring the tiny living quarters feel uncomfortably cramped. Even though Tyler and Maddie find themselves alone on open stretches of pavement, Verardi maximizes the sense of no escape while still amplifying the surrounding isolation. What happens within the Sprinter forces Tyler and Maddie to bump elbows with evil, while pitch-black forest sequences, when forced to pull over, accentuate the sensation of being hopelessly off-the-grid, with no passersby for miles.

Øvredal's visuals are such a menace because he's become skillfully manipulative under the blanket of midnight's darkness. Passenger is frequently terrifying, as outrageous jump scares play with human-ish figures that blur past windows, only to appear in locked-and-speeding cars. Øvredal has so much fun toying with the "Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear" rule while translating the tenets of haunted-house flicks into something that makes sense as a ride-along, tormenting a couple who can't outrun their demonic pursuer. Whether it's crashing date night, and Maddie has to shine a projector playing Roman Holiday as a flashlight, or Tyler crawls under their jacked-up vehicle, reaching for bolts now inconceivably under the van, the devil's in Øvredal's visible details.

Donohue and Burgess give us more than "bad man chases zoom zoom." In establishing their villain's lore, everything from urban myths to the Hobo Code to Saint Christopher's protection over travelers is woven into a compelling nightmare. There's a bit of The Strangers nihilism at play, "because you were out driving," but also the inventiveness to unleash a Creepypasta-y baddie with roots in America's travel history. Tyler and Maddie can't just rack up odometer milestones and seek refuge; they're bound to a merciless entity who enjoys playing with its prey. It's rich in nomadic norms and wary of overly romanticizing lifestyles on wheels, especially after nightfall, where constant motion keeps you alive.

That said, there's a limit to Tyler and Maddie's development as partners in peril that feels beholden to the on-screen horrors. Passengers is a "scare first, care later" brand of genre roller coaster that feels somewhat typical in its handling of protagonists forced to sort out their emotions—impending marriage questions, the duration of their vaning, and at-odds goals. Tyler's starry-eyed encounter with a famous #VanLife vlogger is adorable, but the couple's dive into van culture without clear expectations feels conveniently prone to conflict. Scipio and Llobell are believable together, and they serve moments of intensity or anxiety well, but it's all very in line with predictable expectations that come with pre-coded character arcs in familiar blueprints. But, Passengers gets one of those complimentary shrugs and a "Who cares?" in response.

Øvredal brings The Autopsy of Jane Doe energy to Passengers , while the film serves as a suitable Jeepers Creepers replacement (seriously, stop watching those movies). It makes you squirm in your seat and scream bloody murder, thanks to Øvredal's impressive ability to generate terror through tension and well-placed jolts. Horror fans will feel at (un)ease with a film that offers a robust soundtrack of road anthems equal to the number of leap-in-your-seat adrenaline boosts. For that alone, Passengers earns its pass.

Movie Score: 3/5