Hallow Road proves that the British film industry still has the ability to nurture sharp, fresh voices—especially when those voices come with something truly compelling to say. This debut screenplay from William Gillies, a graduate of the National Film and Television School and a long-time admirer of horror cinema, marks a significant first outing. What makes this even more impressive is the maturity and precision of Gillies’ script. It’s clear he has been shaping this story for some time, refining it draft by draft into a lean, emotionally taut thriller that grabs you from the outset and never loosens its grip.
The film operates as a tense, real-time suspense narrative with a psychological edge, exploring themes of parental guilt, buried trauma, and fractured family dynamics. It’s the sort of well-crafted screenplay that would feel at home on Hollywood’s prestigious “Black List”—a collection of high-quality, unproduced scripts circulating within the industry. Directed by Babak Anvari (Under the Shadow), known for his unique vision and British-Iranian heritage, the film benefits from his steady, confident hand behind the camera. Meanwhile, powerhouse performances from Matthew Rhys and Rosamund Pike anchor the emotional side of the story.
Rhys portrays Frank, an anxious corporate type, while Pike plays his wife Mads, a troubled paramedic. Their daughter Alice, who never appears on screen except as a panicked voice through a phone, has gone missing after a heated argument with her parents.
Played by Megan McDonnell, Alice’s voice carries all the vulnerability and fear needed to drive the story forward. Her cheery voicemail greeting and smiling phone photo stand in stark contrast to the grim scenario unfolding.
After storming off in Frank’s car, Alice heads into a secluded woodland area known as Hallow Road—a place steeped in local folklore and pagan associations, now a popular hangout spot for teens looking to smoke weed. From this desolate forest, Alice makes a frantic call to her mother, sparking a desperate journey by her parents. The film almost entirely unfolds within the confines of Mads’s car, drawing comparisons to Steven Knight’s Locke, where Tom Hardy managed a similarly claustrophobic tension through a car-based narrative.
As Frank and Mads navigate back roads and mounting dread, their behaviour grows more erratic. They argue, comfort each other, make reckless decisions, and wrestle with the moral implications of helping their daughter avoid legal repercussions. Frank, especially, veers toward desperation, even suggesting a cover-up. As they edge closer to the forest, they’re not just seeking their daughter—they’re confronting the rot at the core of their own lives.
Hallow Road is an intensely absorbing and well-acted thriller that excels thanks to its razor-sharp writing, committed direction, and the emotional volatility at its heart. It’s a disturbing but exhilarating ride that suggests a welcome return to form for Anvari.
