For many in today’s generation, graduating from college feels like being dropped into a void. The old milestones of adulthood (career, marriage, house, kids) no longer feel desirable or attainable, replaced by a growing sense of uncertainty, financial pressure, and existential fatigue. At the same time, we’re more connected and stimulated than ever. With constant access to entertainment, validation, and instant answers, life can feel weirdly full and completely hollow at once. It Ends taps into that anxiety with a clever metaphor: four friends, freshly graduated and on one last road trip together, find themselves trapped on an endless highway. The engine runs, they drive for miles, the days blur—but nothing changes. They still have the same amount of gas in their cars, and their phone battery hasn’t changed. When you can’t turn back, as that way is blocked. There are no explanations, no escape—only the choice to keep driving. It’s a feeling that’s uncomfortably familiar.
Drawing from debut director Alex Ullom’s own experiences with anxiety in college, the film uses its central metaphor with real clarity. The deliberately repetitive, confined setting lets us sit with the group as optimism fades and perspectives shift. Each of the four sees the road—and, by extension, the world—a little differently, shaped by upbringing and expectation. Some accept their new reality more readily than others, and that contrast becomes the film’s main source of tension and reflection.
The four leads are charismatic and keep us engaged through what is essentially one long drive. In fact, the film’s best moments are the hangout ones—when they’re singing silly songs, showing off dance routines, bickering about nothing, or having those rambling late-night conversations that feel more profound than they probably are. They feel like real friends, and being a part of their dynamic is pleasing. Ullom and his editor work to keep things visually and rhythmically fresh, using new angles, audio cues, and pacing shifts to stave off monotony. And it primarily works—up until a thematically satisfying, if slightly simplistic, conclusion.
The film invites you to unpack its metaphors throughout: the jungle dwellers, the abandoned cars, the character’s decisions, and changes in perception. At first, it’s fun to connect the dots. But eventually, everything becomes a bit too spelled out. Even at 87 minutes, the structure starts to feel thin. Three of the four character arcs peak far too early, leaving only one that truly evolves across the runtime. There’s a striking shot in the final act that reignites some energy, but it also underlines how much of the narrative had stalled in service of the metaphor. The metaphor could have been slightly more varied, like at some points showing mutiple paths leading to the same place, or even more interactions with the outside world, but alas, not in here.
Still, this is a relevant and impressively crafted debut—a sincere, capable look at a generation wrestling with meaninglessness. And it’s no small feat that Ullom manages to make it as compelling as it is. But when a film about being stuck in place starts to feel stuck itself, even at 87 minutes, you may find yourself wondering when It Ends.