On several occasions, during a very specific stretch of time in the early 1990s that now feels like a chaotic fever dream, I would subject myself to spontaneous weekend road trips with no predetermined destination and no fixed route. Joined by a fellow traveler — who has long since drifted away, choosing a decidedly different path — we would drive north or south on I-75, leaving Pinellas County behind, pick an unfamiliar exit, and allow whim and impulse to dictate our direction. No TripTiks. No road atlas. No GPS. If we paid any attention to signage, it was only to avoid places we’d already visited.
Looking back on that peculiar diversion, I recognize it now as a means to assert our independence as young adults. It was part of our Gen X DNA, embracing the uncertainty of life, mastering our destiny, relying on our resourcefulness to strike out into the unknown and make it back home in time to go to work on Monday morning.
Would I do it now? OMG, no. Are you kidding? How did we not end up dangling from meat hooks in a serial killer’s backwoods abattoir? Or wedged underneath a submerged log courtesy of some lucky alligator? Maybe it’s that I’m old enough to know that the impression of immortality one feels in youth is a cruel mirage. Maybe it’s the zeitgeist, which generates collective anxiety driven by uncertainty, digital fatigue and social fragmentation.
“It Ends” vividly examines the societal instability and malaise facing Gen Z. Directed by Alexander Ullom, this film incorporates elements of — but does not fit tidily into — the genres of sci-fi thriller, cosmic horror and art-house drama. It is a haunting, meditative, nihilistic allegory that intentionally targets 20-somethings, but its relentless tension and claustrophobic setting holds meaning for any generation. Primarily billed as horror, it isn’t the kind of film that relies on jump-scares and shocking reveals. Instead, it immerses viewers in existential dread and liminal space ambiguity. “It Ends” was released in select theaters on Aug. 21 by Neon. It became available on Sept. 15 on multiple streaming platforms.
The film opens with three recent college graduates — James (Phinehas Yoon), Day (Akira Jackson), and Fisher (Noah Toth) — preparing to make the jump into full-on, career-oriented adulthood. Assisting with their move is Tyler (Mitchell Cole), a former member of their clique whom the others have not seen in a year. Much of their initial discussion revolves around a common “who would win” thought experiment, debating various arena survival scenarios involving combatants such as one man with a gun, 50 hawks and five gorillas. During this brief exchange, aspects of the group dynamic emerge, and sources of friction are introduced.
The four pile into Tyler’s Jeep Cherokee and drive off in search of a restaurant, with Day providing directions via a navigation app on her phone. They turn onto a paved, two-line highway bordered on either side by dark woods. After traveling for some time, Tyler voices his concern that they should have encountered an intersection or branching road. Worried, he turns the car around, but they quickly discover the road behind them has been swallowed by the forest. Baffled, Tyler hikes a short distance into the trees. His investigation is cut short, however, as a throng of zombie-like people arise and stampede toward the vehicle.
The four escape, but Fisher is injured: The mob reached through the window and clawed his arm. Panic quickly engulfs the group as they speed down the highway. After driving miles from the scene of the attack, they stop again to tend to Fisher’s wounds. Again, a crowd of shambling people rush toward them in a nightmarish assault.
You may be thinking that this sounds like a typical horror set-up: A group of college students end up in a remote, heavily forested area for a weekend excursion, but soon find themselves totally disconnected from civilization while being stalked by some malevolent entity. Nope, that’s not what our director has in mind.
Ullom’s script has placed these young adults on a seemingly never-ending road. As they grapple with their new reality, they begin to speculate about how they became trapped in this ordeal. They also start to identify the laws that govern their experience. The odometer continues to count the miles they travel, but they never run out of gas. They never feel hungry, or tired enough to sleep, but Fisher’s wounds slowly heal. Each time they stop moving forward, they have 90 seconds before the people in the woods attack.
Eventually, it becomes evident those people in the woods are just other travelers who made an unfortunate turn onto a ribbon of pavement that traverses the Twilight Zone. They are lost souls, stuck in some kind of limbo or suffering in this lowkey Hell. Each of the four occupants of the Jeep Cherokee must decide how they will cope with their situation. Each has their own unique interpretation and level of tolerance. Tyler is the first to step away from the rest of the group, choosing solitude and simplicity over the meaningless loop of the road. From a philosophical standpoint, Tyler is rejecting the illusion of reward. The others carry on, with Fisher and Day using a structured schedule of activities — including engaging in primal scream sessions and listening to one song each day — to break up the monotony. James is the member of the group most determined to reach the end of the road, even though there is no guarantee an end exists or that finding it is the objective. His determination is almost fanatical, and he is willing to sacrifice everything to succeed.
The viewer can find tenets of existentialism within “It Ends,” though it’s unclear if any specific writer influenced the director. Traveling the endless road is a Sisyphean endeavor, mirroring the human condition. For further edification, read Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus and Franz Kafka. Despite the looming dread and nihilism, Ullom leaves the viewer with some measure of consolation. It is a moment of cautious optimism that emphasizes the importance of human connection.
The film works marvelously, thanks to a fascinating, ambitious script and an excellent cast. Far from traditional horror fare, “It Ends” will linger in your brain, especially when you’re driving down a stretch of road wondering if you missed your turn.
Lee Clark Zumpe is entertainment editor at Tampa Bay Newspapers, a Tomatometer-Approved Critic, and an author of short fiction. He can be reached by email at lzumpe@TBNweekly.com.