Headlights barely illuminate the road as the car continues down a lone road. Surrounded by a forest blanketed in darkness, a lingering thought permeates the mind of the driver: “Where’s the turn?” A drive down a dark road always feels longer than it really is… but this is different. Even the GPS shows no turns in sight. Could it be a mistake? Is the driver hallucinating?
If not, that raises an even more terrifying question: will this road ever end?
It Ends follows a group of friends on the road after helping one of them prepare for post-grad life. While making plans for what they’ll do now that college is over, the driver, Tyler (Mitchell Cole), realizes that their turn should have been miles ago. In an attempt to correct the apparent mistake, Tyler makes a U-turn and realizes they can’t go back the way they came. No matter which way they go, one thing is for certain: they’re stuck on this road.
Is this punishment for past sins? A cosmic lesson to be learned? Is there an evil curse placed upon them? Or is life handing out a curveball with no reason in sight? To them, only driving forward can give them the hope of finding an answer.
It Ends does a phenomenal job of keeping the focus on the friends first and foremost, smartly forgoing opportunities to develop “lore,” as doing so would distract from the effect of showing how these close friends deal with a threat that becomes more internal and existential than anything else. From the goofy yet anxious Fisher (Noah Toth) to the lovable Day (Akira Jackson), the four friends bounce off one another uniquely enough that the never-ending road passes by almost as quickly as they’re driving down it. Emotions are at their highest when the friends reach a breaking point with no clear solution in sight, forcing a new routine that might become more detrimental as the odometer reaches miles they never could have expected. It’s that balance between the friends’ camaraderie and their deteriorating psyche that makes the film’s near 90-minute runtime fly by.
Director Alexander Ullom’s commitment to staying with the car demonstrates how strong his vision is for this straightforward premise is. It would be easy to lose interest in a film that focuses on only four people in, effectively, one location. Thankfully, cinematographers Evan Draper and Jazleana Jones find the right angles and lighting to make the car’s transformation from road trip vehicle to impromptu mobile home that much more believable, while also finding little ways to express the claustrophobic nature of sharing such a cramped space for so long. In the rare moments when they get to spread their legs and search the surrounding area, they’re met with an evergreen locale just as endless as the road and just as limiting as the car.
Even with the tension built into the film’s narrative, pacing does get in the way, mostly due to its short runtime. Podcast listeners know Andy and I love a “tight 90,” but half of the central group feels undercooked as a result of its brisk pace. Fisher and Day’s dynamic bring the film its much-needed lighter moments. Tyler and James, on the other hand, are on the cusp of truly grabbing the darkness of the situation, but by the time the film gives them their strongest scenes, it’s too little, too late. Tyler gets particularly short shrift, given a dynamic akin to an older brother tagging along for the ride because the group needed a fourth driver. There is an implied connection between Tyler and James that could be deeper, but there’s not enough time given to the duo to really shed light on how their dynamic works.
This leads to what might be the most controversial aspect of the film: James. From the very beginning, James is planted in the narrative as our de facto protagonist; the one who is constantly fighting to keep going forward when the other three start to question the validity of driving for answers. It’s clear that the never-ending road is a metaphor for James’ and his friends’ inability to adapt to their new chapter of adulthood, discovering firsthand how brutal the world can be without any rhyme or reason. While Fisher clings to nostalgia and Day uses lighthearted activities in order to boost morale, James pushes all of it to the side to grasp at logic and purpose, in hopes that a reward will await them at the surely inevitable end to this patch of asphalt. This usually causes James to become the pragmatic killjoy of the group, attempting to force the group to brainstorm and conjure optimism out of thin air while they’re trying to still adjust to their hopeless situation.
This dynamic leaves him the grumpy stoic of the bunch, to the point that one would be forgiven for growing to despise him by the halfway point. Personally, while I wish more was offered to himh, I think Yoon does a great job with the subtle moments he’s given. There’s a brooding, self-righteous facade that Yoon captures as a defense mechanism for a young man unready to face a world that feels determined to break up his friendships mile by mile. Quick pacing pacing and underdevelopment aside, all four actors give it their all when a cathartic moment is imminent. It’s easy to see what Ullom saw in the strengths of their dynamic for the film.
Flaws and all, I haven’t been able to get It Ends out of my head since watching it. It’s a strong directorial debut that uses a simple premise effectively, committing to its small cast and inherent dread to paint a heightened picture of the fear that comes with entering a brutal and unfamiliar world. It’s not a world of malicious or intentional brutality; it simply deals you a hand, and it’s up to you to get by. It Ends shows that the ones we take with us on the journey are far more important than blindly pushing forward and expecting to be able to justify it all in the end.
To its credit, the film has a bold, definitive ending that makes me curious to see where this road takes Ullom as a filmmaker. Will It Ends justify his beginning? I’m thrilled to find out.
Freelance writer out of Indianapolis. Co-host of Odd Trilogies podcast. Whether it's films or television, I'm always down to watch!