Exit 8 is a film of contrasts. It has ideas that are creative and unsettling, but the execution is inconsistent.
Written by Codie Allen
Tunnels, narrow corridors, and any place where you can’t easily see the way out have always unnerved me. It’s not just the stuff of horror movies—it’s the real-life kind too: crowded subway passages, winding underground walkways, or those endless airport hallways that seem to go on forever. There’s something about being trapped in a space that twists and turns, where every step feels uncertain, that makes your chest tighten, and your pulse quicken. Exit 8 leans into that exact tension. The film captures the claustrophobic anxiety of these spaces in vivid detail, and there are moments that genuinely hit, making you feel the character’s unease. But despite these highs, the intensity isn’t sustained, leaving the experience a mix of fascination and frustration.
The movie begins with Kazunari Ninomiya’s character, a timid, jittery man with asthma, navigating a morning subway commute. You can feel his unease in every shallow breath, every hesitant step. The crowded train sequences are tense in a small, contained way, and a few moments—like a mother struggling to calm a crying baby while being berated by another passenger—add a layer of discomfort. Ninomiya’s performance is restrained, which works most of the time, but his indecision over a call from his ex-girlfriend, who is unexpectedly pregnant, becomes repetitive. The emotional thread is important, but it loops almost as much as the corridors themselves, and by the midpoint, it starts to feel like padding rather than narrative depth.
The subway concourse itself is visually striking at first. Endless white-tiled hallways stretch in every direction, minimalist but labyrinthine. The production design is extraordinary—every detail feels deliberate. Small things, like a poster slightly askew or a shadow where none should be, hint at tension and suggest that the space itself is almost alive. Occasional glimpses of other trapped figures, like the unnervingly grinning Walking Man or a mysterious boy, add some suspense. But these elements aren’t used consistently. As the loops continue, the corridors start to blur together, and the clever visual cues lose their impact. The minimalist setting, which initially feels immersive, gradually becomes monotonous, and the repeated sequences make the film feel far longer than it actually is.
The horror itself is slow, psychological, and largely free of gore, which is a refreshing choice. Some sequences are genuinely unsettling, and there’s a creeping unease that works in bursts. Yet, too often, the tension dissipates, leaving you waiting for the next moment of dread that never quite lands. The slow pacing, combined with the repetitive loops, tests patience and softens the impact of the horror. Scenes that initially feel gripping start to feel like exercises in repetition, and even the most clever touches—glitches, repeated loops, or subtle visual distortions—begin to feel predictable.
Despite these frustrations, the film has flashes of promise. The concept of a looping subway concourse as a psychological maze is intriguing, and there are moments where the tension works, the atmosphere is oppressive, and you get a sense of the character’s growing disorientation. The attention to detail is there, and some sequences genuinely make you scan the screen, trying to catch what the character might miss. But these highs are interspersed with long stretches that drag, making the overall experience uneven.
In the end, Exit 8 is a film of contrasts. It has ideas that are creative and unsettling, but the execution is inconsistent. The production design and the premise are engaging, and there are moments of genuine tension, yet the repetitive pacing and the emotionally looping subplot hold it back from being fully compelling. For viewers who enjoy slow, atmospheric horror and don’t mind stretches of monotony, it’s worth a watch. But if you prefer tight pacing and sustained suspense, this film will likely test your patience. A mixed experience—interesting at times, frustrating at others, and ultimately hovering in that space between clever and overlong.
Exit 8 will be playing in theatres on April 10.
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