Blending psychological tension with haunting fairy tale undertones, Hallow Road is a chilling, atmospheric thriller that unfolds almost entirely within a car’s confines — yet it spirals into something much deeper and more surreal. Directed by Babak Anvari (Wounds, Under the Shadow, and the upcoming Cloverfield sequel) with remarkable vision, the film follows a couple on a dark, winding journey that explores the devastating weight of parental guilt, the lingering echoes of past decisions, and the often fractured nature of family bonds. It’s a haunting, claustrophobic journey that blurs the line between the real and the imagined, forcing its characters to confront their deepest regrets as they race against time.
In this interview, we sit down with Babak Anvari to explore the inspirations behind Hallow Road, from Scandinavian chamber thrillers to classic fairy tales, and how the team used everything from LED volume stages to sound design to build a world that’s at once intimate and unsettling. We also dive into the psychological depth of the characters, the ambiguous nature of the film’s central mystery, and the cathartic thrill of making something so charged with unease.
What initially drew you to Hallow Road when you first read the script?
Anvari: Honestly, it was how great and intense the script was, written by Will Gillies. As a filmmaker, I was intrigued by the challenge of sustaining tension within the confined space of a car. That hook really set me off on this journey.
Did you draw on any external inspirations, like films or literature?
Anvari: Absolutely. First and foremost, fairy tales. The film feels like a dark, modern fairy tale about parents trying to change their child’s fate. Films like The Guilty and Locke inspired the confined, real-time structure, while Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage and Persona influenced the emotional and psychological layers. There’s also a dreamlike quality in the film inspired by Lynch.
The dynamic between Maddie and Frank is so emotionally charged. How did you work with Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys to build that relationship?
Anvari: We only had a week of rehearsal, but we made the most of it. We ran it like a play, dissecting every beat and even improvising scenes, like a family dinner, that weren’t in the script. Some of those moments actually made it into the final film. On the first day, I asked them to perform the entire film in one take with three cameras. They were so good, we ended up using a lot of that footage.
The film explores isolation, not just physical, but emotional. What drew you to that theme?
Anvari: That idea of feeling alone even when you’re with someone is deeply compelling. Maddie and Frank share space but are emotionally distant, while Alice is literally isolated. I used the car as a symbol of their anxious psyche. The deeper into the night and forest they go, the deeper into their unconscious we travel, reflected through sound and visuals.
The sound and visual design are striking. How did you approach creating that atmosphere?
Anvari: My DP Kit Fraser and I planned it all meticulously. We start in a grounded, urban realism, and gradually shift into a dreamlike, expressionistic state. Shooting on a volume stage with LED screens gave us the flexibility to build that immersive, evolving world.
Is the supernatural element in the film a metaphor for psychological breakdown, or is it meant to be a literal threat?
Anvari: That’s up to the audience. I love that ambiguity. Some see it as a metaphor for trauma, others as a folk horror. To me, psychology and mythology are closely linked, and even if it’s in someone’s head, the experience is real for them.
Did you do any specific research into trauma or psychological theory while developing the film?
Anvari: Not specifically for this film, but I’ve long been fascinated by the relationship between external and internal worlds. I’m an anxious person myself, so tension is cathartic for me. I even recommended Motherhood by Jungian analyst Lisa Marchiano to Rosamund during our discussions.
There are moments where GPS or signal projections appear on the characters’ faces. What do those visuals represent?
Anvari: They reflect the characters’ internal states. For example, when Maddie lies about being “a few minutes away,” the projection shows 17 minutes—her guilt manifesting visually. The turn signal appears as a symbol of choice, of missed opportunities to change course before it’s too late.
Alice is such a major presence, yet we never see her onscreen—only hear her voice. Was that always the plan?
Anvari: Yes, she was always meant to be just a voice. But Megan MacDonald, who plays her, was on set throughout, delivering her lines live to Rosamund and Matthew. Her presence was crucial, even if she remains unseen on screen.
*Spoilers ahead*
The mystery couple on the phone, voiced by Rosamund and Matthew, was a powerful reveal. What’s the significance of that choice?
Anvari: Spoiler alert for readers, but yes, that was intentional. I wanted the couple on the other end of the line to be a kind of “shadow self” of Maddie and Frank. It connects to the idea that “no parent wants to be the child’s monster.” It mirrors their guilt and darkest fears, like a Coraline-esque “other mother.”
Any final thoughts you’d like to share?
Anvari: Just that I love films that blend genres and invite interpretation. This film lives in that space between the real and the surreal, the psychological and the mythical—and that’s where I love to work.
Hallow Road is in UK and Irish cinemas now. Watch the trailer below:
