Both fittingly and unfittingly, Exit 8 opens with the piece of music Boléro by Maurice Ravel. It’s a courageously rousing song, one that would feel most at home placed over the opening credits to a David Lean epic. I can already picture the sweeping landscapes being given the grand cinematic treatment. Exit 8 is at the opposite pole of the spectrum of epicness, primarily taking place in one hallway and boasting a cast that can be counted on one hand. Its sense of adventure is also horribly twisted, both literally and figuratively. There is no sense of adventure among any of these characters; each seems trapped in a cycle of psychological horror.

What makes Boléro a fitting choice for this film is the piece’s repetitive nature, gradually increasing tempo, and volume as it marches to the beat of its own drum. The longer it goes, the louder it gets, building anticipation for what’s coming. Patience is quickly rewarded, creating a constant feedback loop. It’s intentionally simple, yet it fully gets the job done.

A nameless protagonist (Kazunari Ninomiya) is on a Tokyo subway. Everyone is buried in their phones, oblivious to everything that’s going on around them. The man gets a call from his ex-girlfriend with some important news. Along with his stroll and often blank expression, his waffling on how to feel exemplifies his indecisive nature. On his way out of the station, he walks through a hallway that supposedly leads to Exit 8. He makes a turn, and he’s back in the same hallway. He turns back… and is back in the same hallway. All of the pedestrians have disappeared, except for one man who walks on a set path with no expression or discernible human qualities.

Eventually, the lost man stumbles upon a sign of instructions. He is to look out for “anomalies,” which could be anything that seems out of the ordinary. A sign might have a different color than the last time he saw it, or the doors might be open instead of closed. Should he see one, he has to turn back and go the other way. Completing a challenge takes him to the next exit, with the implied reward being his freedom after finishing the eighth level.

This film is based on the wildly popular video game of the same name. Released in 2023 and developed by Kotake Create, it preyed on the fear of liminal spaces. The beauty of the game was its random simplicity, which meant that no two players had the same experience. One might beat the game in an hour, another might never finish it. Granted, the player who beat the game first probably had the lesser overall experience, as there’s very little replayability.

That fear of a player being trapped forever is inherently removed from Genki Kawamura’s film adaptation. Obviously, a movie must follow the rules of narrative structure, so the (limited) freedom that the game allowed has now been strapped onto a conventional track. The camera follows closely with the nameless man, with slick editing and production design making the bulk of it seem like one uninterrupted shot. The man mutters expositional reminders to himself for the uninitiated, constantly reinforcing the rules Kawamura assumes we keep forgetting.

Even at just a hair over 90 minutes, there’s quite a bit of time spent spinning wheels. The repetition is intentional, yet still feels like a flaw that could have been avoided. For someone like me who has played the game, it felt like I was watching someone else play it poorly. I sat there, rolling my eyes as it took the man too long to figure out what needed to be done. Of course, that won’t be a problem for those who haven’t played it. Then again, I feel like that group would be much better served by picking up a controller than buying a movie ticket.

Neon will release Exit 8 in theaters nationwide on April 10th.