"Only in theaters" has been pretty much the defining feature of the marketing campaign for Unhinged, a film that probably would've come and gone with little fuss if Solstice Studios hadn't been determined to make it the first wide release to play on the big screen since the COVID-19 lockdowns began. It's the sort of low-grade angry white man on a rampage thriller that recalls the late Joel Schumacher's Falling Down, combined with a touch of Joker's "We live in a society"-ness. For better or worse, though, director Derrick Borte is more invested in serving up violent mayhem than digging into the story's subtext, with a game Russell Crowe hamming it up as an antagonist listed simply as the "Man" in the credits. Between its concise action and Crowe's scenery-chewing, Unhinged makes for an amusingly trashy B-movie, even if its social commentary never congeals.
Caren Pistorius costars here as Rachel Hunter, a working-class mom who's going through a challenging divorce and trying to keep everything together, all while caring for her son Kyle (Gabriel Bateman) and allowing her brother Fred (Austin P. McKenzie) to live with her until he's able to afford his own place. One day, already running late to work and delayed by rush hour traffic while driving Kyle to school, Rachel honks at and bypasses the driver of a truck who refuses to move at a green-light. Before she knows it, the man behind the wheel (Crowe) follows her and pulls up next to her at another intersection, demanding she apologize. When she doesn't, he continues to follow her, and it quickly becomes clear: he's not going to take no for an answer.
Following a bleak prologue that illustrates the "Man" is both extremely unstable and prone to violence, Unhinged quickly establishes its core message - modern life is so stressful, anyone could snap at a given moment - thought a heavy-handed montage composed of what appears to be real-life road rage incidents and similar occurrences of people lashing out. From there, its narrative follows a trajectory routinely identical to that of writer Carl Ellsworth's script for Wes Craven's Red Eye, another suspense-driven thriller that revolves around a woman being terrorized by a menacing man under otherwise innocuous circumstances. But what it lacks for unpredictability or subtlety, Unhinged tends to make up for with succinct storytelling, never wasting a moment of its lean runtime or forgetting to pay-off the many plot points it sprinkles like bread crumbs on the way to its third act.
The downside to this approach is that Unhinged often brings up intriguing questions (like whether having cameras everywhere one turns actually keeps us safer when someone violent is on the loose), only to brush them aside and move on to the next scene. Borte and Ellsworth's decision to stay vague about what, precisely, pushed Crowe's character over the edge can also be a double-edged sword; they avoid stigmatizing the mentally-ill by portraying him as being someone with a long history of generalized issues, yet fail to really delve into the toxic sense of entitlement that's always boiling beneath his surface and prompts him to project his problems onto those he sees as the uppity women of the world (and the men who enable them). Crowe's performance isn't all that enlightening, either. As engaging as he can be, employing a Southern gentlemanly manner in-between bouts of bug-eyed fury and sullen grimacing, his portrayal of the "Man" comes off feeling closer to a caricature than a real person, especially when paired up against Pistorius' grounded and relatable portrait of a parent who's already having a difficult time keeping their head above water.
This probably explains why Unhinged is at its strongest whenever Crowe is tormenting Rachel, whether it's by taunting her as he threatens to harm those closest to her (and makes good on his promise whenever possible) or putting the pedal to the metal as he relentlessly pursues her in his vehicle like he's the enigmatic trucker from Steven Spielberg's Duel. The movie's actual car chase sequences are invigoratingly sturdy in their construction thanks to Jack A. Marta's steady cinematography and the stable editing by Michael McCusker and Steve and Tim Mirkovich, with hurricane season New Orleans serving as a fitting backdrop to the tense and uncomfortable proceedings. Things get a little shaky off-road, admittedly, as Borte struggles to find unexpected ways of showing the "Man" stalk Rachel and her loved ones in regular domestic settings. But much like its antagonist, Unhinged compensates for its lack of wiliness with brute force, delivering some savage deaths along the way.
For all of its marketing's attempts to paint the film as being particularly relevant in the midst of the ongoing pandemic (with just about everyone feeling even more stressed out than usual), Unhinged is far too ham-fisted and ridiculous to offer much more than a fleetingly cathartic experience. It's entertaining enough to recommend as a home viewing option down the road, but even if there wasn't a continuing health crisis keeping theaters in major areas closed down, those interested would do better to ignore any efforts to sell this would-be provocative social-thriller as anything more than a thick slice of B-movie cheese that's best enjoyed whenever it becomes available on digital and Blu-ray. (Which is not to say that any movie is worth braving the theater during a pandemic, obviously.) Until then, you can pass the time waiting for this one by rewatching Crowe's bonkers promo ads, which more or less encapsulate the essence of the film anyway.
Unhinged is now playing in U.S. theaters. It is 90 minutes long and is rated R for strong violent content, and language throughout.
