André Øvredal’s Passenger is exactly the kind of mid-budget horror film that sneaks up on you. On paper, the premise feels familiar — a young couple embracing van life stumble into something terrifying on an open stretch of road — but the execution elevates it far beyond standard supernatural fare.
At the centre of it all is Maddie ( played with quiet precision by Lou Llobell). She and Tyler (Jacob Scipio), have left New York behind for the open road, though the film is careful to suggest that Maddie’s leap into this new life came before she’d truly reckoned with what it meant. There’s a lingering sense that she said yes to all of it — the freedom, the uncertainty, the person she’s becoming — without yet knowing who that person is.
A few weeks into their new “van life” adventure, the couple witness a horrific accident that kills a driver, and soon find themselves hunted by a malevolent demonic presence with no intention of letting them go. What follows is a film steeped in paranoia and dread, where the vast emptiness of highways, forests, and roadside stops becomes a landscape that mirrors Maddie’s inner state — the feeling of being stranded between the life she left and the one she hasn’t yet found the courage to claim. It’s Maddie who carries the weight of all that most convincingly, her hesitation never weakness, but the film’s most honest pulse.
What works best is how effective the scares are. Øvredal clearly understands how to build tension without overplaying his hand. Rather than relying solely on loud jump scares, the film creates lingering unease through sound design, shadows, and the terrifying idea that the threat is always close behind. Several sequences are genuinely nerve-racking, particularly those involving nighttime encounters on deserted roads, and Maddie’s mounting terror gives the film a human anchor that keeps the supernatural elements grounded.
The performances deserve a great deal of praise. Llobell gives Maddie an emotional groundedness that keeps the film engaging even during its quieter stretches — she’s the kind of protagonist you genuinely fear for, reactive and resourceful in equal measure. Scipio brings enough charisma and vulnerability to make Tyler feel believable rather than just another horror protagonist making bad decisions, and their dynamic feels lived-in and real. Melissa Leo, meanwhile, makes a strong impression in a smaller supporting role — she brings a weathered authority to her scenes that the film earns rather than simply borrows, and her presence adds a layer of grounded humanity that lingers even after she’s off screen.
The only major aspect that doesn’t quite land is the dialogue. While the performances help smooth things over considerably, some conversations feel overly scripted and lack the natural rhythm you’d expect from a real couple. There are moments where characters explain emotions rather than simply expressing them, which occasionally pulls you out of otherwise tense scenes — Maddie in particular occasionally suffers from lines that tell us how she feels rather than showing it.
While not entirely perfect, Passenger still manages to deliver enough tension, atmosphere, and genuinely unnerving moments to make for a highly effective horror experience.
