‘The Passenger’ — An Unconventionally Violent Character Drama About Trauma and Forgiveness
Going on a killing spree in small-town America has its own rewards.
Benson (Kyle Gallner) is a psychopath. It takes about fifteen minutes into Carter Smith’s thriller-drama, The Passenger, to learn this when he shoots half the staff to pieces with a shotgun in the fast food joint he works at without batting an eye. Oddly, he spares co-worker Bradley (Johnny Berchtold), the meekest guy within 100 miles, whom he thinks of as a gigantic loser. For some godforsaken reason, though, he decides to “help” him find his balls and break out from their poor surroundings.
It’s an unconventional choice to start his “self-improvement course” by killing off his colleagues (and his douchebag boss), but Benson doesn’t seem to mind the murder. In fact, he looks indifferent to violence as opposed to Bradley, who’s in shock, crippled by fear like a baby lamb standing before a starved, ferocious wolf. Utterly helpless, the 20-year-old practically lets himself be kidnapped, going on a ride with Benson “involuntarily” for the next seven hours (that’s the time frame he estimates before someone discovers the pile of dead bodies in the back office of Burgers Burgers Burgers).
After that nastily gory start, Jack Stanley’s screenplay doesn’t settle into a familiar or ordinary route. Instead, it unfolds as a strange social experiment put into practice: What happens if someone literally puts a gun to your head and forces you to face your decade-long insecurities, deepest fears, and most daunting traumas? Will you do it? Will it work? Or will it leave you more damaged and traumatized than you ever were?
Though Benson is a psycho — Gallner keeps reassuring us by giving out an ominous vibe, posing slightly impertinent questions, and acting nuts every 10 minutes — he’s driven by some good intentions to liberate Bradley from a limited mindset. In his own screwed-up way, he’s got faith in the guy: he knows that Bradley’s smart, that he’s better than the trashy people he lives amongst, yet wonders why he lets himself be humiliated by every dick who crosses his path. Benson fixates on finding out why he's okay with being so tragically pathetic. He just wants him to begin standing up for himself, and if that takes some killing along the way, so be it.
After learning that Bradley is a virgin who only had one girlfriend that ghosted him without an explanation why, the first task Benson makes him do is confront his ex. That interaction, in a stuffed animal store inside a mall of all places, goes as awkwardly as you imagine, but he does get an answer. Although he’s coerced by a lunatic to do this, Bradley stumbles upon an unexpected realization that opens him up and brings him out of the shell he fabricated in his mind to protect him from anything risky or uncomfortable. And more importantly, this self-reflection reopens the wound of a childhood trauma he went through in second grade.
After years of running from that haunting memory, Bradley reveals what happened to him as a kid, how it ruined his social life, and how it altered his entire mentality growing up. It was a wacky incident back in elementary school (which I won’t spoil because it’s an absolutely tragicomic moment you need to see for yourself) that is the backbone of the character, providing the root cause of his deep-seated trauma. As expected, Benson doesn’t hesitate to take him to the very person responsible for that emotional scar and make him ask for forgiveness.
Since it’s a Blumhouse Production — and we all know that means horrors of a specific kind — the film’s marketing was keen on selling it as another bonkers splatterfest with an underlying message. But apart from its occasional violence (which is raw and overt but gets milder as the plot progresses), The Passenger is more of a clever character drama determined to offer a profound observation and analysis on trauma, forgiveness, and free will. And to succeed, the movie puts a lot of trust in its two leads to do most of the heavy lifting through dialogue and subtext — and the Gallner-Berchtold duo couldn’t be more fitting here. While the former is practically becoming a regular poster boy for new-wave horror (think Ghosts of War, Scream (2022) Mother, May I?) before our eyes lately, the latter uses its boyish, resigned look to channel a delicate, shy vulnerability as a victim who eventually turns his life around.
The best aspect of The Passenger gets fully realized in its third act, which speeds toward an inevitably tragic finale that powerfully drives home its central message. By then, we pretty much know how this ends for Benson (although he leaves us with one final truth bomb to ponder on), but his fate becomes secondary to Bradley’s. He doesn't only free himself from Benson’s menacing spell but also overcomes his inability to confront trauma and take back control over his decisions in the middle of a life-threatening situation he never even came close to dealing with before. His gradual transformation from a pathetic loser to a man with self-esteem teaches us a crucial lesson: we shouldn’t judge or condition ourselves based on our past actions and should never make an assumption about the impact we had on others, whether harmful or beneficial, without asking them first. Because no matter how strongly we believe we badly damaged someone, there’s always a chance for reconciliation — we just need to make the first step asking for one.
The Passenger is currently streaming on Apple TV, Amazon Video, Google Play, Youtube, and Vudu.
Last week, I reviewed the flashy and amusing second season of HBO’s Winning Time for Paste Magazine. This week, I’ll share my thoughts on the upcoming Netflix series, Painkiller, which is about the birth and aftermath of the opioid crisis.
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