The Passenger 
Release Date: August, 1974
Duration: 126 mins.
Director: Michelangelo Antonioni
Writer: Mark Peploe, Michelangelo Antonioni, Peter Wollen (Screenplay),
Starring: Jack Nicholson, Maria Scneider, Jenny Runacre, Ian Hendry,
The Passenger is an absorbing film. Billed as a thriller and neo-noir, it has some of the genre hallmarks but doesn’t feel related to classics like Out of the Past and Kiss Me Deadly for the longest time. Until it does. And then it moves through the motions but to its own rhythm before transforming into a potent existential horror movie that leaves one breathless with fear.
The plot revolves around a British-born American journalist named David Locke (Jack Nicholson). His work has taken him to Chad where the government is locked in a war with rebels. His work isn’t going so well. Lost in a desert. Unable to get to any truth. Stranded at a hotel where his only fellow guest is a shady British businessman who he shares whisky with. The two muse about how to be genuine with others, how to be authentic, and starting life over.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we could just forget old places. Forget everything that happens. Just throw it all away, day by day.”
Locke gets his chance to start over when said businessman dies in his room and Locke steals his passport and identity. In doing this, he leaves behind an unfaithful wife, an unfulfilling career, and an unsatisfying life.
Masquerading as the businessman, Locke follows a series of appointments across Europe only to discover that he is operating under the identity of an arms dealer selling weapons to Chadian rebels. Worse still, hitmen working for the Chadian government are on his trail and so is Locke’s wife (Jenny Runacre) who is suspicious about events surrounding her husband’s apparent death.
And so begins The Passenger, the third of a trio of English-language films Michelangelo Antonioni made for MGM, following Blow Up (1966) and Zabriske Point (1970). The Passenger is the superior of the three for me because it features better use of landscapes and acting. Blow Up remains a puzzle that I don’t particularly want to revisit. The Passenger is more obvious as it really delivers an atmosphere that features a heavy dose of listlessness related to the main character before giving viewers dread and a firm ending.
A lot has been written about the locations by other writers and for good reason: they convey a visual representation of the psychic space of the main character. The long takes of Locke getting lost in the desert, losing himself in the empty backstreets and dusty countryside of Spain. The constant sight of him amongst uncaring wilderness or lost amidst tourists who ignore him. Unable to achieve anything, unable to connect. It all channels the ennui and disconnection he feels, the emptiness inside. Reinforcing this are snapshots of his wartime interviews, and some scenes with his wife after the shoots where he is his own worst critic pointing out the cynicism and hollowness of the messages he puts out, how they conform to received “wisdom” of westerners looking in on Africa rather than telling the truth.
That disconnection from himself and the world around him is felt keenly due to the experience of watching him drifting, especially after he cuts the strings that tether him to his old life and wanders around Europe as a dead man. Jack Nicholson is great in this role as he plays counter to what we associate with him as his manic energy he is able to throw onto the screen is very subdued. Time expands and contracts as Locke visits various locations and misses contacts set up by the businessman and it isn’t until he meets a mysterious girl (Maria Schneider) that the story takes shape as a thriller elements come in.
The girl represents less a femme fatale and more of a distraction for Locke. A student, a tourist, she is an enticing, lively, and daring presence. While she goads Locke into making foolish choices in carrying on with his façade like a femme fatale might, she really inspires him to join her in a world of fluctuating identities and liminal spaces found in travelling. Beautiful Maria Schneider bubbles with life and idealism, intellectualism and wit. She also has that gorgeous French accent to make her words (all the more convincing because the French are existential philosophers…). Her character could easily turn a person’s head and it is no wonder that Locke finds himself carried away. And this is where the film enters thriller territory.
With the Chadian government and his ex-wife on his trail, Locke goes on the lam with the girl. The pace of the film picks up in sequences. It’s in fits and spurts. He evades snoops at hotels, car chases, police questioning. After so much floating around it all gets dark and heavy and the atmosphere builds as the audience gets the sense of a net closing in on him. It feels inevitable that events will catch up with Locke and the experience gave me the reaction of constricted breathing and shudders, especially as the end of the film approached.
Worse still, the landscapes remain dusty, empty, and uninviting so that we also get the sense remains empty on the inside. We have seen that he has never been in control or authentic, he has been subject to the whims of others. Instead of driving the plot forward, he has been a passenger to other people’s intentions and actions, from the hitmen to the ex-wife to the girl he takes up with. Even at the climax in the hotel, when Locke should be front and centre, the film climaxes with a tracking shot done in a single take where he remains on the periphery and other people are the focus and they comment how they never really knew him just as he never really knew himself.