Fall (2022)

Movie Review: Fall (2022)

Fall (2022), directed by Scott Mann, is an intense survival thriller that will leave you breathless—literally. The film takes fear to new heights, both figuratively and literally, by exploring the isolation, vulnerability, and dread of being stranded at the top of a 2,000-foot antenna tower in the middle of a desolate desert. For those with a fear of heights, this film is an absolute terror trip.

The plot is simple but effective. A mourning widow, Becky (Grace Caroline Currey), is pushed into a climbing adventure with her friend Hunter (Virginia Gardner), a thrill-seeking social media influencer. Their goal: to scale the towering, remote antenna. Along the way, tension builds between the two women as unresolved issues surface, especially regarding the tragic loss of Becky’s husband. But the journey quickly turns into a nightmare when the ladder they use to ascend breaks off, leaving them stranded with no way to descend.

The film excels at turning its minimalist setting—just two women stranded on a small platform hundreds of feet above the ground—into a nerve-wracking experience. Scott Mann’s direction and MacGregor’s cinematography work in perfect harmony to create a palpable sense of vertigo and isolation. The film’s visuals are a key part of the terror. From the vast, open desert to the impossibly high tower, Fall uses wide, sweeping shots and tight close-ups to plunge viewers into the characters’ fearful perspective. When the camera pans downward from the top of the tower, the sense of vertigo is immediate and unrelenting, forcing the audience to experience the same feelings of helplessness and dread that Becky and Hunter do.

What makes Fall stand out among other survival horror films is its ability to use fear as a psychological tool, rather than relying on monsters or supernatural elements. The true horror here is the environment itself—nature, time, and the looming physical dangers of their situation. As the women face exposure, dehydration, and the constant threat of falling, the film plays with the audience’s nerves, tightening the tension with each passing moment. The isolation is deafening, and with no one to help them, they must rely solely on each other and their wits to survive.

The emotional core of the film is the relationship between Becky and Hunter. While their friendship is strained by grief, guilt, and unresolved issues, the film handles their conflict with subtlety. Rather than indulging in melodramatic fights, the tension between the two builds naturally through the situations they face. As they struggle to survive, they must reckon not only with the physical danger surrounding them but also the emotional baggage that has been weighing them down. The absence of extraneous drama between the characters allows the peril to feel more immediate and visceral.

The survival elements are made even more gripping by the film’s minimalist approach. With only a 50-foot rope, a drone, and their limited survival skills, Becky and Hunter are forced to improvise and face their fears head-on. With every failed attempt to escape or signal for help, their chances of survival diminish, heightening the emotional stakes. The drone, which Hunter uses for her influencer posts, adds a layer of dark irony to the situation, as it’s not just a tool for communication but a reminder of their isolation.

The score and sound design are crucial in amplifying the tension. The quiet moments of desperation are often underscored by the whistling winds and the creaking metal of the tower. This, combined with the visual extremities of the women’s position, makes the film an unrelenting experience of fear. The sound becomes an additional character in the film, amplifying the isolation and the dread of waiting for help that may never come.

In the end, Fall isn’t just about physical survival; it’s about confronting fear and finding the strength to face it head-on. The horror of the film doesn’t come from any supernatural force—it’s in the stark, real danger of their situation, in the ever-present threat of falling to their death, and in the struggle for survival when all hope seems lost. It’s this raw, primal fear that makes Fall so effective.

As far as horror films go, Fall is an exceptional example of how psychological terror can be just as, if not more, intense than supernatural horror. By combining claustrophobia, vertigo, and raw human emotion, Mann crafts a thriller that is as heart-stopping as it is horrifying. If you’re not afraid of heights before you watch this movie, you certainly will be after. It’s a white-knuckle ride that tests your limits—and leaves you gasping for air until the very end.