It isn’t clear what Siri (Najarra Townsend) is looking to get away from – all we know is that she and her daughter Eve (Gwyneth Glover) are in need of a fresh start. As Eve sleeps in the backseat, Siri drives throughout the night. The desert land around her is barren, her only sights being that of the lightning in the distance and the never-ending road. Coming across a gas station, Siri bumps into Iris (Leah Lauren), a friendly enough person in need of a lift. With Siri offering her a ride, the three take off; however, it isn’t long until a mysterious monster runs across the front of the car, causing an accident. When the two women come to, they realize Eve has gone missing.

Written and directed by Eduardo Rodriguez, The Darkness of the Road is a psychological ride of constant tension and unease. It’s also a difficult film to discuss in terms of narrative; for the reader’s benefit, all I’ll say is that much of the narrative revolves around the two women trying to find the missing Eve while striving to avoid the monster that stalks them. This story, and its many surprises, are blanketed in an aura of gloom; the grim air becoming thicker over time as the story dives deeper into haunting territory.

While the film has varying levels of action and violence throughout, it is much more of a slow burn emotional horror that plays out in dream logic. Somewhat Lynchian in approach, the narrative flow feels off from the start; even in how the audience is introduced to Siri and Eve, something isn’t right about how scenes transition from one to another. A blue light plays over many scenes, further enhancing that dream-like atmosphere. In the way, conversations are held and actions play out, there’s a disconnect that gets under the skin. Like how something may happen to Iris that Siri witnesses, the latter running over to the former, just for the big moment to dissipate and oddly fade away.

The dream logic presentation of The Darkness of the Road only builds, becoming more of a greater presence that consumes the characters. The film maintains a strong balance between disjointed presentation and cohesion; narrative beats never feel so out of left field, but sometimes the occasional jump in logic takes place. While there could be some confusion in processing all the narrative detail, the film is best experienced when letting go of reason. In fact, when I stopped questioning things as much, the oddities began to make more sense to me regarding the film’s bigger picture. To some viewers, this flow could potentially be disorienting; the narrative is committed to the dream-like direction and is unapologetic in how surreal events play out.

Where there are numerous scenes involving quiet contemplation or conversations between characters, those moments of action stand to provide additional layers to the greater narrative. One scene, in particular, makes for nightmare fuel, providing an uncomfortable physicality in the pain one character goes through. The monster itself isn’t as much of a satisfying element to the story – that is, until one gets to the ending – then one starts to wonder what the monster might actually be.

The Darkness of the Road is a film best enjoyed if one goes in blind. The film’s tonal focus on gloom and dread only builds over time, allowing for an atmosphere that, while technically present since the beginning, becomes more and more tremendous with time. Its dream logic makes for a gripping narrative that may not thrill a ton, but provides a sincere air of discomfort and anxiety. The dedication provided to the plot’s surreal flow may take a little getting used to, but this is a nightmare one does not want to miss out on.

The Darkness of the Road is now available on VOD outlets.