What piqued my curiosity with Locked (2025 directed by David Yarovesky) is that Sam Raimi produced it. Raimi made a name for himself with the Evil Dead movies. He knows a thing or two about dread and suspense.
Locked would have worked as an episode for Netflix’s Black Mirror series. It just went on and on, but one has to hang on because the movie has the formidable Anthony Hopkins and the always reliably weird and pained Bill Skarsgård.
This movie is a conservative’s wet dream. When one has lost faith in the justice system, one takes on crime, no matter who gets squashed in the way. It is torture porn for corrective measures as extrajudicial justice for small-time crooks. This is a revenge movie that goes to the level of Batman.
When a distraught wealthy man (Hopkins) has experienced trauma due to crime, he decides to take on crime by building this torture machine of a car. Instead of processing grief and trauma with a certified professional, you just make an expensive mousetrap. It is a sleek, beautiful vehicle with the brand Dolus, Latin for “evil intent.” The car’s logo is a pair of outstretched wings with Lady Justice, whose arms outstretched bear the upright sword and the scales of justice. It is not seen if this Lady Justice is blindfolded.
Skarsgård’s character is a skeezy loser down on his luck. He tries to carjack and seems to have hit the jackpot with the Dolus car. He gets in and is trapped. What follows is a physical truncation of electrocution and squelches of blood.
The movie is primarily Pavlovian, where a “scientist” enacts prompts and prods to stimulate the mouse, a petty criminal. What’s particularly amusing is the exchange between excruciating jolts and whimpers, mixed with references to Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, Marxism, and the Kardashians.
What is hilarious is that there is this exchange between excruciating jolts and whimpers about Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment mixed with Marxism and the Kardashians.
The film could have succeeded with a prolonged discussion on morality and accountability, but it’s weighed down by a dragging pace. That said, such an approach would likely be too French for what is ultimately an American thriller. Still, the inclusion of The Social Contract amidst the screams and blood splatter is an interesting touch, though it’s hard to imagine Enlightenment philosophers ever anticipating that their ideas would sound so torturous outside of a college social science class.
Anthony Hopkins, known for his brilliant menace as Hannibal Lecter, is a far cry from that performance here. There is no malice in his character, and while playing a psychopath might be fun, his role here feels hollow. The movie fails to evoke any real menace or intrigue from his portrayal, leaving his character to fall flat. This absence of depth is one of the key missteps of the film, as it fails to engage the audience in any meaningful way.
A central theme of the film revolves around the notion of criminal justice. The movie invites viewers to question whether they believe in it or if they align with the idea of randomly torturing a criminal foolish enough to invade someone’s property. America, after all, is built around the concept of private property, and it’s tough to sympathize with the “mouse” who risks everything for a piece of cheese. The film raises difficult questions about justice and retribution, but it doesn’t delve deeply enough to offer any clear answers.
Amidst the torture and fast-paced action, the film also prompts viewers to reflect on what’s needed to address criminal minds: rehabilitation or a scare so immense that it leads to a transformation. This key question is buried within the film’s chaotic presentation, leaving the audience to wonder which approach is more effective. The movie may not have the answers, but it does present a striking portrayal of the tension between justice, punishment, and personal philosophy.
You may reach Chong Ardivilla at kartunistatonto@gmail.com or chonggo.bsky.social
