Fasten your seat belt, even if you ride in the back
The story centers on a chauffeur driving his young son to his grandmother while racing to a hospital in Las Vegas where his wife is about to give birth. That night takes an abrupt turn when a second man slips into the car, a passenger with a dangerous edge that turns a routine ride into a perilous one in an instant.
The stranger, with bright red hair and a matching jacket, grabs the driver at gunpoint and forces him to go somewhere unknown. He drinks from a flask and flaunts the weapon, offering no sentiment about the family moment he interrupts. It becomes obvious the passenger has orchestrated this moment from the start, and the hospital dash dissolves into a web of deception and hidden motives behind every lighted street sign.
After a brief stretch, the driver is told to turn left. The narrative leans toward the taxi driver and his anxious passenger, but the commentary shifts to examine a translation misstep. The phrase Fight the Devil does not perfectly match the original, and its transformation into a fight misses the exact weight of the title. The aim is to capture the intensity and masculine urgency fans expect, while the original title carried a subtler heat and tension that lingers beneath the surface rather than a straightforward clash.
The setting remains the same, though details shift to a new emphasis. The soundtrack and dialogue reference material from Michael Mann, underscoring a modern noir mood. The scene echoes elements from Partner in Crime, where the killer’s control tightens as the action tightens around the taxi. The driver becomes a hostage in a high-stakes game, and the film borrows from the tense dynamics of a classic caper, imagined as a heist playbook adapted to a car and the night streets instead of a vault.
Turn left again. The director responsible for this intense setup is Yuval Adler, an Israeli filmmaker known for lean, suspenseful thrillers that avoid excess. Ten years earlier, his debut Bethlehem earned praise at Venice and Toronto, and even got Israel’s Oscar submission, though it did not secure a nomination. His subsequent projects have involved foreign collaborators and international suspense, then a thriller about secrets and memory that sits in a similar tonal space as this story about control, fear, and moral ambiguity. Adler’s craft lies in keeping the pace measured, letting the tension breathe, while never losing sight of the human stakes at the heart of the ride.
After five hundred meters the route exits. In this film the idea of locking the action inside a single car feels purposeful rather than novel, shaping how the viewer perceives each moment. The approach nods to Mann’s work again and to a broader line of thrillers that trap characters in confined spaces, where every glance and line of dialogue matters. The result blends influence with invention, where the central idea remains a secret kept close, a misdirection that rewards attentive viewing rather than loud, obvious thrills.
Attention comes with a jolt as the camera shifts to the road ahead. Nicolas Cage appears as the redheaded passenger, a casting choice that defies expectations, while the driver is played by Joel Kinnaman, known for action and sci-fi roles. The dynamic pairing offers a push and pull between intensity and restraint, with Cage delivering a controlled performance that suits the claustrophobic setup. The sequence rises to a tense moment punctuated by a surge of unexpected music. Alicia Bridges’ I Love the Nightlife outfits a rooftop energy that nudges the film toward darkly stylish camp while keeping the human cost of the choices front and center in the cab.
With Cage in restrained form, the other actor steps into shadowed prominence. Kinnaman’s driver role provides balance, and his character’s hesitations and reactions add vulnerability to the high-stakes scenario. The tension goes beyond fear; it probes trust, responsibility, and the price of every decision within a perilous, enclosed journey. As the ride pushes toward the climactic turn, the film invites viewers to reexamine loyalty and danger and to consider how quickly a routine night can become a gamble with lifelong outcomes.
A nod of thanks for the ride is offered, and payment is arranged by card. The verdict lingers: the film may not be hailed as a masterpiece, yet it leaves a lasting impression. It closes with a sober, grounded note rather than a flash of bravado, a fitting parallel to a night ride that starts with care and ends in a morally charged truth.