Unhinged

Director: Derrick Borte
Starring: Russell Crowe, Caren Pistorius, Gabriel Bateman, Jimmi Simpson, Austin P. McKenzie, Juliene Joyner
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

If there's anything to be said about the very accurately titled road rage thriller Unhinged it's that you get exactly what's advertised. Approaching the film with hopes of gaining deep insight into the sociological implications of stress on the human psyche or underlying causes of vehicular assault in America would be a mistake. This is a B-level potboiler. Plain and simple. And when viewed through that lens, director Derrick Borte delivers a tight, suspenseful 90 minutes that doesn't reach too far or try to be something it isn't. Aiming higher would assuredly result in less, even as the story's basic premise calls to mind superior efforts like Steven Spielberg's Duel or Joel Schumacher's Falling Down. In terms of quality and content, it shares little with either, as much of the action doesn't take place on the road and it's not all that interested in providing social commentary or exploring the antagonist's state of mind. But in this case it's fine since that just isn't what we're here for. 

The events that occur may be wildly implausible, but they're not exactly silly. Okay, maybe they are, but it's good enough for viewers to resist mocking the entire scenario and at least respect that the movie never breaks from its reckless abandon to wink at us. Borte really plays it straight, relishing in this lack of humor as he escalates the violence to uncomfortable levels. On its surface, the plot's absurd, tracking a stone cold killer on his rampage to teach an unlucky mororist what a "bad day" really feels like. He also might also have the best luck of any murderer since Ted Bundy at evading law enforcement, disposing of victims left and right in broad, busy daylight while driving his easily identifiable vehicle through a crowded city. And yet, this somehow works, mainly because of Russell Crowe, who we just don't see in sadistic, villainous roles like this nearly enough. 

Mentally disturbed and existing on the fringes of life, Tom Cooper (Crowe) is in a precarious state. Laid off from his job and going through a divorce within the past year, he's about ready to snap. And he does, breaking into the home of his ex-wife and beating her boyfriend with a hammer before setting the residence ablaze, driving away into the night as it explodes. Meanwhile, newly divorced single mother Rachel Flynn (Caren Pistorius) has been struggling through some personal problems herself, battling her ex-husband over money while trying to take care of their teen son Kyle (Gabriel Bateman). Already under immense pressure and seeking advice from friend and divorce lawyer, Andy (Jimmi Simpson), she's dropping Kyle off at school and running late to work when she honks at a pickup truck stopped at a green light. 

The truck's driver is Tom, who catches up to Rachel, rolling down the window and demanding an apology for honking him, insisting he deserved a "courtesy tap" first. She refuses, leading to a tense exchange and him following her on the road and into a gas station, where she realizes he's just not going to let this go. So begins his murderous rampage, threatening everyone near and close to Rachel while collecting additional victims along the way. With cops on his trail, he has Rachel in his crosshairs, and she'll have to use all her strength and resourcefulness to escape him.     

Unlike Michael Douglas' D-Fens character in Falling Down, Tom starts the film as a complete psychopath and descends from there. Whatever events or circumstances led to his violent, agressive actions were well underway before he was introduced on screen so any hopes of humanizing the guy are pretty much dashed in the opening scene when he commits the first atrocious crime. The film proudly announces what it will be right off the bat and doesn't waver throughout, even while being careful enough not to go too far into the weeds regarding his mental stability, or lack thereof. 

While they show Tom popping prescription meds and he's referred to as "ill" in both the descriptions for the picture and in passing dialogue, you have to wonder the reasoning behind that disclosure. Since mental health is a sensitive topic, you'd figure the last thing filmmakers would want to imply is that just anyone with these issues could do this. What's likelier is that this is screenwriter Carl Ellsworth's sole attempt at giving the character some degree of nuance despite it not being particularly necessary. Regardless, his horrific actions speak loudest, as an almost unrecognizably heavier Crowe adopts a menacing southern drawl while pausing to fiercely lecture his intended victims about the unfair hand he's been dealt. 

Alternating between intensely calm soliloquies and explosive fits of rage, Crowe's best scene comes in a diner opposite the great Jimmi Simpson as Rachel's attorney. With Tom having already absconded with her cell phone and fully manipulating his way into her circle of friends and family, Simpson's lawyer knowing something's off with this guy, but not enough to call him out. Crowe perfects Tom's deflections and lies to a hilt so by the time Simpson's character realizes the extent of what's happened, it's too late.

It would be easy to pick every piece of this apart, especially the incredibly slow police response when it comes to tracking a pyromanical vehicular killer so visible that the "hiding" part of hiding in plain sight barely seems applicable. Then again, had the script involved too much law enforcement, it could easily lead to a Saw-like scenario where we're watching a crime procedural instead of the thriller it should be. So it's probably the right call keeping Crowe front and center, even if the audience has to kind of check their brain at the door regarding how far this goes.  

If Crowe steamrolling through everyone seems on brand for the film, its most believable aspect is South African actress Caren Pistorius' performance as Rachel, naturally and credibly reacting to this trauma as you'd envision a normal, overly stressed single mother would, conveying a fear and panic that lends even more tension to the proceedings. Doing far more than merely holding her own, Pistorius wrings genuine pathos out of the situation's most ludicrous developments, desperately conveying the conflicted fight or flight response you'd associate with someone experiencing this. 

Allowing a suspension of disbelief that may not have been possible with a more recognizable name in the role, casting the right protagonist opposite Crowe only enhances everything he does, making sure all the heat stays on him. And he brings plenty of it, taking us on a wild ride where we're fully invested in seeing this guy really get his in the end. When that moment comes, it's surprisingly cathartic, and maybe the surest sign that everyone involved with Unhinged fully understood the assignment. By knowing what had to be accomplished and achieving it, the film clears a low bar, executing an admittedly familar formula in skillful, exciting ways.