Traditional horror movies with an easy-to-follow plot, relatable characters, and a healthy dose of scares are probably every horror fan’s comfort food. That’s because, when it comes to horror, the experimental and abstract genre pieces can be very hit or miss. In 2024 alone, I have come across In A Violent Nature, and I loved its take on the slasher subgenre. Bramayugam’s exploration of casteism and classism on a monochrome canvas was excellent. Oddity’s portrayal of revenge was haunting. And Outside’s use of the zombie subgenre to talk about the patriarchy was worthy of all the applause in the world. Then you have movies like Night Swim, The Devil’s Bath, Consumed, Baghead, The Hangman, Munjya, MadS, Mr. Crocket, and Don’t Move, which undoubtedly have a good concept at their core, but the execution is simply too muddled to be impactful. I am sad to say that Black Cab falls into that second category.
Bruce Goodison’s Black Cab, written by David Michael Emerson, Nick Frost, and Virginia Gilbert, opens at a restaurant where Anne, her fiance Patrick, and their friends, Ryan and Jessica, are at the tailend of their party. Patrick tells everyone a scary story about a cab driver and soon follows it up with the news that, after experiencing a rough patch in their relationship, Anne and he have finally decided to get married. This apparently upsets Anne and Jessica for different reasons, and hence the get-together ends on a sour note. Patrick gets particularly rude, and even though Anne doesn’t want to spend the night with him, he shoves Anne into a cab so that they can get home. That said, instead of heading towards Anne’s house, Patrick tells the cab driver, Ian, to drive aimlessly until he says otherwise. Sensing the animosity between the couple, Ian tries to make sure that Anne is alright, but Patrick’s brash behavior and Anne’s timidity force him to back down. It’s only after Ian makes a pit stop that he starts showing his true colors, and the couple realizes that their lives are in danger.
To be fair to the writers of Black Cab, they do explain what the story is about in great detail at the very end of the movie. At one point, it actually seemed like Ian was going to break the fourth wall and begin unpacking everything that the movie was doing. But the issue is that explaining a movie that’s fundamentally confused about what it wants to do or say is pointless. Sure, it’s trying to comment on families, relationships, adultery, and parenthood. However, what is the commentary exactly about? That people shouldn’t enter relationships if they aren’t sure if they can be loyal to their partner? Is it about abortion? Is it about men controlling what a woman wants to do with her body? Is it just about some demented serial killer cabbie who is haunted by the ghosts of the women he has killed? Or is the whole film a figment of the imagination of a deeply insecure man? My answer to all those questions is: I don’t know. And, look, I like obtuse and abstract horror movies, and if this film tried to be one, I would’ve excused most of its creative choices. Since it doesn’t and unloads an over-explanatory exposition dump, I have to penalize it.
Black Cab limits its setting to the titular vehicle, which is certainly an interesting choice for a horror movie. Other films that have tried their hand at this gimmick to varying degrees of success are Cold Meat, Wheelman, Wind Chill, Cosmopolis, The Monster, and, of course, Locke. And the way Goodison goes about it is fine. Cinematographer Adam Etherington frames Nick Frost in intriguing ways, and editor Kim Gaster throws in some half-decent transitions here and there, but that’s not nearly enough to make the viewing experience engaging. Goodison’s approach to generating tension out of the premise of “Will Anne escape or not?” is way too repetitive and unimaginative. So, it’s not like the rest of the team can do anything to elevate the material if the director’s vision is so limited. And if futility and boredom were the whole point of the exercise, then I guess it’s a job well done. In addition to that, there’s a lot of questionable VFX. If the ghosts and apparitions had some substance to them, I guess I could have overlooked the shoddy presentation. However, since they don’t really amount to much, I have to deduct points for that. The pulsating music is alright, I suppose. At least you can bop your head to it.
Coming to the performances in Black Cab, I’ll say that everyone is trying their best. Nick Frost is largely known for his comedic roles and his collaborations with Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg. But he has been branching out for quite some time with stuff like Into the Badlands, The Nevers, and now this. And he is pretty good as this menacing monster who is pretending to be a gentle giant. Sadly, Ian is such a one-note (or maybe two-note) character that he doesn’t really get to flex his acting muscles. I have said earlier that Etherington frames Frost in intriguing ways, but none of that accentuates or underscores Frost’s acting. I actually think the cinematography undermines his skills as an actor and makes him look like a generic villain. Synnove Karlsen had displayed her acting chops in her limited role in Last Night in Soho. Despite having a starring role in this film, she is made to do the same three things over and over again until you are tired of her predicament. Luke Norris sleeps throughout the film for no fault of his own. The few moments that he does spend with his eyes open, he manages to showcase Patrick’s obnoxious nature. Tessa Parr and George Bukhari are in the film and they play their parts pretty well. Tilly Woodward plays the ghost, and, well, as far as ghosts go, she is okay.
As a fan of Nick Frost, I was really looking forward to Black Cab, and I am sure that if this project was in the hands of a better director and a better writer, this would’ve been one of his most memorable feature film outings. Sadly, now, I think I am going to remember it as the time Nick tried to play a monstrous antagonist and the film failed him. Since I have brought up Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg already, I think you can predict what I am going to say next: it’s time for another Cornetto trilogy. All three of these guys have gone on their separate paths, and they’ve done some incredible work. Pegg has become a recognizable face in the Mission: Impossible and The Boys franchises. Wright has racked up a bunch of awards. But it’s time to come back home. Given how they were relatively young while making the Cornetto trilogy, things were kind of lighthearted. This time around, they can go darker, grittier, and make their characters more world-weary. I’m not asking for sequels to the films they’ve made together. I’m not that kind of a fan. I just want them together in a shape or form that best suits their current artistic vision. Is that too much to ask for?
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