Last weekend, I packed the family in the car and headed off on a three-hour road trip. With traffic, road works and a quick spew stop for the 8-year-old, we eventually reached our destination in a mere five hours. It was a long and trying drive.
On the plusside, a psycho killer wasn’t stalking us. That would have really soured the trip.
Later that night, after dropping the kids off with a grandparent, we put on Alone. Netflix’s taut, tense thriller is about a young woman named Jessica who also sets off on a road trip. However, she is not as fortunate as we were in the psycho-killer stakes, and her simple roadie becomes a matter of life and death.
It all begins with a small bout of road rage. Driving through a forest, she finds herself stuck behind a 4WD that’s dawdling along with no passing lane in sight. It’s a relatable position, and her escalating frustration is incredibly real. Eventually, she attempts to overtake which, of course, causes the 4WD to accelerate to match her speed. Again, we’ve all encountered this infuriating phenomenon.
But her nerves are steady and she manages to finally swerve in front, leaving the jackass far behind in her rear-view mirror. I think you can guess where this is going…
Marc Menchaca as the menacing psycho killer. Photo / Netflix
That’s the thing with Alone. There is no point during its well-crafted 90-odd-minute running time that you can’t guess where it’s going. It follows the genre’s twists and turns like it’s getting directions from Apple Maps.
The psycho killer, who looks unnervingly like Ned Flanders from The Simpsons, continues to stalk her during her trip. Eventually, his persistence pays off and he manages to run her off the road deep in the woods. He knocks her out and she wakes up some time later trapped in his empty basement.
From there, we see Jessica plotting her escape before a do-or-die, days-long chase through the forest leads to a final, bloody confrontation.
Like I said, the bulk of Alone may take place off the beaten path, but in terms of story, it sticks rigidly to it. The funny thing is, this adherence to the tropes only makes it a stronger, more enjoyable movie.
The main reason is that everything superfluous has been hacked out, leaving only the vital organs and a twitching skeleton of a plot. There are only three actors in the whole movie and one of them is on-screen for fewer than five minutes.
Alone is an unsettling film. Photo / Netflix
For the entire film, we are locked on Jessica. We see only what she sees and know only what she knows. Little hints of the psycho killer’s life are revealed through overheard snippets of conversations, but his motivations for hunting her remain largely unanswered. That combined with his conservative appearance only serves to make him an even more unsettling foe.
While we normally call big-budget, effects-heavy blockbusters like Marvel’s superhero jaunts “experience films”, I think that term is more appropriate for movies like Alone. The tension this movie creates borders on unbearable and easily beats any CGI-driven spectacle.
It’s a nerve-racking watch. You’ll find yourself nervously watching Jessica, willing her to escape and howling at the screen whenever she does something that you wouldn’t as she tries to get away.
A film as stripped down as this one really hinges on its actors, and they really struck gold. As Jessica, Jules Wilcox is brilliant, carrying the film with a believable, bug-eyed anxiety that gradually gives way to an inner strength. In contrast, Marc Menchaca is unbearably creepy as the unnamed man, whose physical menace only grows as the film hurtles along.
Despite being a stressful watch, Alone is one helluva enjoyable ride. Even if the only surprise it’s holding is just how good a flick it is.
