Alone is not as gruesome as many of its predecessors (something likely to split genre fans), but it is often more stylish, making it an intriguing, if a bit superfluous entrant into the serial killer/cat-and-mouse canon. Director John Hyams and writer Mattias Olsson have crafted a serviceable thriller, but I question its relevance or purpose. That Alone is well-made loses importance when considering its tired, played-out concept. One can’t help but wonder: Do we need another movie about a misogynist killer who relentlessly stalks his prey? I would argue that we do not (especially from male filmmakers), but if we must, I hope that, like Alone, character trumps torture and gore.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one. A young woman (Jules Willcox) is stalked then kidnapped by a menacing man (Marc Menchaca), escapes and is hunted. Does that sound familiar? For anyone who has ever searched the horror section of a 1980s video store or seen virtually any episode of TV’s Criminal Minds, it should. It’s not all bad, though. While the plot may not allow Jessica (Willcox) to be a fully fleshed-out character with dreams and aspirations all her own, she is at least allowed to be more than just a piece of meat. She is a person before she is a victim, which humanizes her plight. Too often in these types of stories, women exist only as either devices or fantasies for men with issues (behind the camera or in the audience), and while Jessica may not revolutionize that role, she is at least given a reason to live other than instinctual survival.
Hyams also wisely steers clear of direct and gratuitous torture. It’s heavily inferred that sadism is indeed in Jessica’s near future, but her escape mitigates that, pushing the tension outward into the wilderness rather than locked in her basement prison. In a refreshing twist, Jessica is determined from the beginning to not being victimized and plots her escape from the moment she awakens. This, of course, sets up the hunt that makes up the bulk of the film, but it also robs her pursuer (known only as “Man”) of the brutality he so badly craves. This is not to say that the film is free of violence (it most certainly is not), but that it isn’t doled out in entirely expected ways.
Alone may not reinvent the genre, but its thrills and tension are earned and executed with thought – at least more so than one could reasonably expect from a film like this. However, I would have no complaints if Alone were the last of its kind. It seems to me that, in an age when indie filmmaking has proven itself a viable place for new voices to shake up status quo normalcy, heading backwards into old models is counterintuitive, even if a film mostly succeeds despite the limitations of its genre.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.