LOCKED - Mark Reviews Movies

Locked, The Avenue

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Review by Mark Dujsik | March 20, 2025

The conceit of Locked is so deviously clever that it's little surprise to learn that director David Yarovesky's film is a remake. Since the Argentinian original—titled 4x4—was never theatrically distributed in the United States (likely due to a combination of the pandemic and the decision to make an American version), the surprises of Michael Arlen Ross' adapted screenplay will thankfully remain intact for most audience members. There are a decent number of them, too.

Most of those surprises revolve around how the script maintains its premise. That sees a down-on-his-luck guy stuck in an SUV for multiple days over the course of about 80 minutes of screentime. The reason Eddie (Bill Skarsgård) becomes trapped in that vehicle is as diabolical as the rationale for him searching the car, for anything he can swipe and sell, is understandable. Eddie is desperate to make, find, or steal just a few hundred dollars in order to pay off some minor repairs on the delivery van that's his main source of income. Without it, he's stuck in a completely different way.

Eddie's not a bad guy, and that's a major part of the reason the material works as something a little more than a cunningly devised single-location thriller. He had a rough upbringing in a bad part of some anonymous city, and it's a tale as familiar as it is sad. Well, it's unfortunate, at least, to anyone with some sliver of empathy and a conscience. The man who arranges for Eddie to be locked in an SUV, made to suffer all sorts of physical and psychological strain, put under various forms of torture, and witness to and an audience for a vigilante's warped sense of justice might not have even a sliver of either remaining.

That makes William (Anthony Hopkins), the SUV's owner, quite the villain, too. There's something of political battle happening between the lines and, at times, right in the foreground of the film.

Eddie makes his case that he doesn't deserve to be an unwilling prisoner and a pawn in William's twisted game—if not simply because he's a human being, then on account of the fact that his past, his socioeconomic status, and his circumstances have led him to making the mistake of trying to steal from the guy's car. William argues that none of that matters—if not on account of the social contract that everyone must participate in for society to function, then because William simply doesn't care about Eddie's humanity. A criminal is a criminal in the man's mind, and no pleas, no logical arguments, and no philosophical debates will change this particular man's mind on the subject.

We can see both sides of this conflict, just as we can appreciate the struggle that unfolds as Eddie tries to find some way of escaping the SUV and the full extent of William's design for this trap keeps revealing itself. We can also and especially admire the ways in which Yarovesky's filmmaking keeps this cramped location engaging and Skarsgård's performance runs a whole gamut of agony—even while the camera and the character are restricted maybe less than 100 cubic feet of space.

The setup is simple and quickly established. Eddie does need cash to retrieve his van from an auto shop—not only for work, but also so that he can actually pick up his daughter, from a failed relationship, from school if he ever decides to keep his promise to do so. The garage's owner isn't taking any excuses or promises of later payment, so the easy and illegal solution is to check for car doors that might have been left unlocked.

In a remote parking lot with minimal foot traffic, Eddie finds that SUV with its doors unlocked, but once he realizes there's nothing of value in it, he can't exit. The doors are now locked. The windows won't crack against any force he can produce—even with a pistol he keeps for protection. His cellphone has no signal, and those windows are so darkly tinted and soundproof that no one outside can see or hear him or his cries for help.

William enters the story via repeated phone calls to the SUV. He taunts Eddie, pretending to be worried about him, and proceeds to enact all sorts of tortures upon him—turning up the air conditioning or heat all the way, blasting yodeling polka music through the speakers, shocking him with an electric current that runs through the car's seats.

The rest of the story—that doesn't have to do with how the car functions as a prison/torture device and how Eddie looks for a means of escape—basically comes down to a series of conversations between the two men. They're both smart characters, too, even if the car's later movements transform this into a more visceral thriller and some of the third-act action requires a few intellectual lapses out of desperation.

Eddie, who taught himself on some subjects, can mostly hold his own against William's loaded tirades about how far society has fallen in his view and the nihilistic ends of such thinking. We get from where William is coming, too, given his own tragic back story, but there's something more satisfyingly sinister in warping those details into this brand of villainy—especially with Hopkins savoring the dialogue in what's mostly a vocal performance.

Locked comes down to a battle of wits and wills—the will to live and the will to make some ugly point about how that life might amount to more trouble than it's worth. The film is clever, then, in its plotting, its staging, and, most surprisingly, its willingness to engage with some ideas outside of its own claustrophobic design.

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