Locked

There is a specific, primal panic that sets in when a door handle doesn't do what it’s supposed to do. We’ve all been there—tugging at a jammed bathroom stall or a frozen car door in mid-January—but Locked takes that mundane frustration and sharpens it into a lethal weapon. It’s a film that asks us to root for a man who, by all legal standards, is the "bad guy," simply because the person punishing him is so much worse.

I watched this while wearing a pair of new wool socks that were slightly too itchy, which oddly complimented the skin-crawling sensation of the protagonist's predicament. As Bill Skarsgård’s Eddie Barrish began to realize that his high-tech prize was actually a customized Iron Maiden, I found myself reaching down to scratch my ankles, fully synchronized with his escalating claustrophobia.

The Master of the Macabre and the Mime

If you need an actor to look like they are vibrating with pure, unadulterated stress, Bill Skarsgård is your man. After his legendary turn as Pennywise and his recent stint in Nosferatu, we know he can do "monster" in his sleep. In Locked, however, he plays the prey. As Eddie, a career thief who makes the mistake of breaking into the wrong luxury SUV, Skarsgård uses every inch of his lanky frame to convey the terror of a trapped animal. It’s a highly physical performance that has to carry about 80% of the movie’s runtime since he’s the only person on screen for vast stretches.

Opposing him is the legendary Anthony Hopkins as William, the voice on the other end of the car’s speaker system. This isn't just a paycheck role for Sir Anthony; he brings a chilling, paternalistic arrogance to the character of the "Vigilante." He isn't just killing Eddie; he’s educating him. Anthony Hopkins manages to make a discussion about societal decay sound like a fireside chat, even while he’s systematically dehydrating and traumatizing a man in a soundproof box. The chemistry between a frantic, sweating Skarsgård and a calm, disembodied Hopkins is the engine that keeps this thriller from stalling out.

A High-Tech Iron Maiden

Director David Yarovesky, who previously gave us the "evil-superhero" flick Brightburn, clearly enjoys subverting expectations of power. Here, he turns a symbol of suburban status—a sleek, armored SUV—into a sterile torture chamber. The cinematography by Michael Dallatorre is impressively inventive given the spatial limitations. He finds angles inside that cabin I didn't think were possible, making the leather interior feel like it’s slowly closing in on Eddie.

The film serves as a high-stakes commercial for why you should never buy a car with a touchscreen. Every luxury feature we’re told makes us safer—the reinforced glass, the soundproofing, the remote locking—is flipped on its head. It’s a very "now" kind of horror, tapping into our anxiety about the technology we invite into our lives. There’s a sequence involving the car's climate control that is genuinely agonizing to watch, proving that you don't need a chainsaw to create a "slasher" vibe; a malfunctioning HVAC system and a sadistic old man will do just fine.

Why Did Nobody See This?

Despite the star power and the backing of producer Sam Raimi, Locked struggled to find its footing at the box office, clawing in a mere $4.6 million against a $20 million budget. It’s a classic case of a "high-concept" film falling through the cracks of the 2025 release schedule. Perhaps audiences were weary of "contained thrillers" after the streaming boom, or maybe the idea of a thief being tortured didn't feel like the "escapism" people were looking for during a post-pandemic summer.

Interestingly, this is actually a remake of the 2019 Argentinian film 4x4. While the original was a gritty social commentary on crime in Buenos Aires, Yarovesky’s version leans harder into the "Raimi-esque" horror elements. There are moments of dark humor and "splatter" energy that feel like they were whispered into the director's ear by the creator of The Evil Dead himself. Supporting players like Michael Eklund and Navid Charkhi pop up briefly, but this is truly a two-man show. The fact that it vanished from theaters so quickly is a shame; it’s the kind of mid-budget genre exercise that used to thrive in the 90s but now feels like a "hidden gem" before it even leaves the multiplex.

Ultimately, Locked is a lean, mean, and occasionally cruel little thriller that knows exactly what it is. It doesn't overstay its welcome at 95 minutes, and it provides Bill Skarsgård with another platform to prove he’s one of the most interesting actors of his generation. While the script by Michael Arlen Ross occasionally veers into "preachy" territory regarding William’s motives, the sheer tension of the situation kept me glued to the screen. It’s a film that will make you look twice at your own car’s door locks the next time you get in, and for a horror-thriller, that’s a mission accomplished. Look for it on streaming—it’s the perfect "Friday night with the lights off" discovery.