Passenger

Passenger is a fairly solid bit of genre craftwork that is a lot more impressive than its desultory release might suggest.

Passenger lacks the kind of ambitious thematic approach or emotional depth that elevates the best horror movies, falling into typical impulses of the genre. But there's nothing wrong with being a well-constructed horror movie that doesn't want to waste time with slow-burning monsters. It won't be much of a surprise, especially for fans of the genre – but it's not hard to recommend regardless.

While Øvredal’s direction and the lead performances carry the film through any rough patches, it can get quite rough. Burgess and Donohue have plenty of great ideas, but don’t seem to have edited any of them, resulting in a story that can be frustrating.

When in doubt, screenwriters Zachary Donohue and T.W. Burgess so awkwardly rush back to genre conventions that it feels like Passenger failing a series of trust falls before our eyes.

while the filmmaker attempts to inject some style into Passenger, he simply can't overcome a clunky script and two highly uninteresting lead characters. But hey, if you like loud noises and ghoul faces shrieking directly into the camera, you might have some fun here.

Per usual with movies like this, spelling out the terror (the roots are in hobo codes and religious legend) becomes, regrettably, a shock absorber, not a facilitator. But the scares were middling to begin with because Øvredal — a game but overeager trickster — telegraphs his set pieces as if he were equipped with a flare gun and detour cones. Then again, it might be an attempt to distract us from thinking too hard about all the illogic in Zachary Donohue and T.W. Burgess’ screenplay

This movie is like a car ride through Cawker City, Kansas, that doesn’t stop at The World’s Largest Ball of Twine.