Video games’ capabilities of immersing players directly in their horror rarely translate evenly to film. Even more so when the video game in question can be played through in under an hour and favors experiential gameplay over storytelling. Exit 8, based on Kotake Create’s cult game, finds innovation in exploring the game’s structure, creating an immersive experience that has viewers scouring the screen for anomalies along with trapped characters. It’s also a bit too lean in plot.
An extended opening sequence in first-person perspective introduces a timid, asthmatic man (Kazunari Ninomiya) traveling on the subway. He keeps to himself, even as he witnesses a mother being berated by a man over her baby’s crying. As he leaves the train, he receives a call from his ex-girlfriend; she’s pregnant and unsure whether to keep it. Initially paralyzed by indecision, fear, and an asthma attack, the man agrees to meet her at the hospital. But when he attempts to exit the station, he instead finds himself trapped in a sterile backroom purgatory.
Like the game, the rules for the Lost Man are simple: scour the endlessly looping hallway for anomalies. If spotted, turn back immediately. If no anomalies, proceed. If the Lost Man can make eight successful loops, escape awaits.
Director Genki Kawamura gets inventive through simplicity. The brightly lit, pristine white tiled corridor is sparse in detail, ensuring both the Lost Man and the audience can keep track when it comes to spotting anomalies. It’s here where Exit 8 comes closest to capturing the essence of gaming, as much of the film’s fun comes from scouring for clues, picking up on subtle shifts in décor before the characters. In some instances, audiences can note the difference that onscreen characters miss entirely, instilling dread for the inevitable consequence of failure. And failure gets increasingly bizarre and cosmic.
It’s also here where Genki Kawamura adds complexity by toying with the narrative structure, weaving in nonlinear perspectives of the eerie grinning “walking man” (Yamato Kochi) and “the boy” (Kotone Hanase), touching on the prominent theme of guilt. It all ensures that Exit 8 is as unpredictable as it is meticulously crafted.
But the more the Lost Man attempts to find his way out of this twisted Möbius strip, the more the threadbare plotting begins to drag down the dizzying mind trap of horrors. The Lost Man’s arc is entirely driven by his indecision over whether to have the baby or abort, and once the boy fully enters the equation, it loses all nuance to the point of feeling more didactic in its pro-life messaging. That we never get a sense of who the Lost Man is beyond his panicked indecision and paralyzing fears means that the emotional stakes feel too low, to the point where the climax loses a lot of momentum.
Still, what Exit 8 lacks in storytelling, it makes up for in endless creativity. Kazunari Ninomiya capably navigates the physicality of his character’s cowardice and fear, without ever veering into unlikable territory. But the true magic of Exit 8 lies with its impressive ability to recreate the feeling of playing a game, as you find yourself scouring the walls, floors, and ceilings of a cosmic backroom hallway to assist the Long Man in his search for anomalies. Even when the Lost Man’s story is easy to surmise in advance, there’s no predicting the aural and psychological terrors that await those trapped in Exit 8’s bizarre limbo.
Exit 8 screened at TIFF and is expected in theaters from NEON sometime in 2026.