Out of Darkness (2024) marks Andrew Cummings feature-film debut, stepping behind the camera for this British prehistoric survival-horror thriller. The screenplay, crafted by Ruth Greenberg from an idea she first sketched in 2015, transports viewers 45,000 years into the past and unfolds entirely in Tola, a synthetic tongue mixing Arabic, Basque and Sanskrit. Shot amid the rugged Scottish Highlands, the minimalist, high-concept film probes themes of fear, solidarity and the birth of violence as a small band of early humans confronts a mysterious danger.
Plot Synopsis
Stranded on a strange shore in search of refuge, Adem his expectant mate Ave, their restless son Heron, the younger Geirr, wise Odal and outcast Beyah form a fragile clan.
As the group trudges through cold, fog-shrouded terrain in search of shelter and fire, the strain of the landscape and old grudges pulls them apart. When a dark figure snatches Heron from the campsite, anxiety blossoms into open suspicion. Suddenly, everyone second-guesses Adem’s decisions, Odal calls on forgotten rites, and Beyah, calm yet firm, tries to anchor them all.
For a while the unseen attacker seems to be a vengeful spirit, an idea that feeds their superstitions and divides the camp deeper. The truth, however, is much simpler and far more unsettling: the predator stalking them is another human, a Neanderthal-like being adapted to this harsh world. That discovery forces the group to stare at its own readiness to kill and the cold calculus of living when nature is anything but kind.
The film builds to a tense, almost whispered standoff between Beyah and the creature. Rather than overpower it, she learns to meet its gaze, and in that moment she becomes not just the last person standing but a modern echo of her ancient ancestors. The closing scene-a long, solitary shot of Beyah moving into the unlit horizon-combines dread with tiny flicker of hope, leaving viewers unsure whether she will disappear or begin something new.
Characters and Performances
Adem, played by Chuku Modu, starts as a capable guide but his confidence erodes as decisions spiral. Modu captures that fracture with small gestures and fading eye contact, allowing Adem to centre the dramas of trust and authority even as he loses control.
Ave (Iola Evans) embodies a quiet strength, deftly blending moments of vulnerability with an instinct to protect her unborn child.
Geirr (Kit Young) drifts between fierce loyalty and deep-set fear, mirroring the films larger questions of trust and the will to survive.
Heron (Luna Mwezi), the young son, unknowingly sparks the emotional crisis that pushes the group toward chaos.
Odal (Arno Luning) speaks for tradition and mysticism, often calling on the spiritual to make sense of what remains unseen.
Beyah (Safia Oakley-Green) stands out as the outsider who reluctantly grows into the groups leader, her arc anchoring the films emotional and thematic heart. Her quiet resolve and blossoming confidence turn her into a beacon in an otherwise brutal landscape.
Performing primarily in a constructed, subtitle-free language, the cast leans on gesture, expression, and physical presence. Critics united in acclaim, especially praising Oakley-Green for the subtle layers she brings to Beyah.
Themes and Symbolism
Fear of the Unknown
Much of the films tension springs from what remains invisible. Its shadow-drenched vistas and lack of a clear enemy nurture a constant dread that echoes the groups own mounting panic. That primal fear soon breeds suspicion, causing allies to turn on one another in a chilling slide toward paranoia.
Human Origins and Evolution
Encounter with a Neanderthal-like figure forces the survivors to weigh their own humanity against its primal other. The story asks whether language, kindness, or unrestrained violence define us-and whether such markers matter when lives dangle on a thread.
Power, Gender, and Leadership
As Adem loses grip on himself, Beyah steps forward, slowly claiming the leadership he once held. Her rise-from overlooked child to resolute commander-turns accepted gender roles upside down and shows how the silenced can tap deep wells of strength when their worlds collapse.
Survival and Morality
Far from glorifying ancient times, the film shows survival as a series of brutal, sometimes soul-killing, choices. Beyahs final clash with the creature becomes not only a test of muscle but a severe audit of her own values and those of the group she chooses to defend.
Cinematography and Direction
Ben Fordesman’s cinematography strips away artificiality, leaning on natural light and sweeping, empty vistas to underline the story’s themes of isolation and fragility. The Scottish Highlands stand in for the Palaeolithic world—harsh, stunning, and occasionally deadly-with each frame reminding viewers that beauty and menace often coexist.
Director Andrew Cumming builds dread by letting scenes unfold at a measured pace, allowing character tension and the looming wilderness to eclipse quick shocks. Silence plays almost a speaking role during moments of stalking and hiding, with subtle ambient sounds coming in and fading out as if the landscape itself is breathing. Adam Janota Bzowski’s sparse score mirrors that unease, layering distant tones and pauses that linger after the credits roll.
Critical Reception
Out of Darkness landed on festival circuits to enthusiastic reviews, earning high marks for its ambitious premise, evocative atmosphere, and performances that felt both raw and polished. Safia Oakley-Green emerged as a standout, collecting the Best Breakthrough Performance trophy at the British Independent Film Awards and winning many critics over with her nuanced portrayal.
Commentators labelled the film a hybrid of horror, drama, and historical fiction, applauding its originality, restraint, and willingness to leave some threads deliberately loose. The slow burn and minimal exposition invited viewers to lean in, rewarding those who chose to engage with a richer, more personal encounter with the material.
That said, the films stripped-back style and absence of loud set pieces could put off viewers who crave a more formulaic fright night. Its deliberate ambiguity and heavy atmosphere ask for patient attention and a willingness to feel uncomfortable.
Cultural and Artistic Impact
Out of Darkness carves a niche in horror by blending authenticity with artistic risk. The use of a made-up tongue and the outright refusal of modern catchphrases or clumsy exposition pull audiences into another time. Its praise shows that stories set long ago can be both smart and emotionally gripping.
The picture sits comfortably with the rising wave of lean, character-driven survival horror, often stacked beside The Witch or The Revenant-yet it trades the frontier for the prehistoric ice age. Its quiet speculation about early humans meeting other hominid groups is sketched through mood and small gestures rather than blockbuster spectacle.
Conclusion
Taken as a whole, Out of Darkness is a bold, thoughtful trip into humanitys unseen past that lingers after the final credits. It offers more than cheap shocks; it ponders how fear shapes identity and, by extension, evolution itself. Anchored by Safia Oakley-Green?s subtle yet magnetic performance and backed by linguistic and visual detail that never feels showy, the film earns its place as both a horror picture and a credible human drama.
Andrew Cummings signature debut stands out, marking a noteworthy addition to the expanding shelf of historical genre cinema. Those open to its deliberate tempo and atypical approach will find Out of Darkness haunting and hard to shake long after the credits roll.
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