Minimalist survival thrillers live or die on commitment, and In Darkness commits hard. Written, directed by, and starring Evan Jacobs, the film strands its audience in the same place as its protagonist: injured, disoriented, and completely blind in a dark garage. The hook is deceptively simple. He only needs to move about fifteen feet. That distance, stretched across the runtime, becomes a mountain.
Jacobs leans fully into confinement. The film is almost entirely darkness and shadows, with very little visual variation beyond Evan speaking into the void. That choice will test some viewers’ patience, but it is also the point. In Darkness is less interested in spectacle than sensation. The real tension comes from sound, breath, hesitation, and the slow realization of how fragile the human body becomes when even basic movement is compromised.
As a one man show, Jacobs carries the weight of the film on his back. The performance is raw and relentless, capturing the panic, frustration, and mental spiral that comes with isolation and injury. At times, the heavy reliance on monologue exposes the film’s limitations, especially when the darkness begins to feel more static than oppressive. Still, the psychological pressure remains effective, largely because the film never breaks its own rules or lets the audience escape the situation.
In Darkness is not a traditional thriller, and it is not trying to be. It is an endurance test, both for its character and its audience. If you can lock into its stripped down approach and accept that much of the experience is listening rather than watching, there is an unsettling intensity here that lingers. Fifteen feet has never felt farther.
Jessie Hobson