Mark Tonderai's Hush is a nimble little B-thriller synthesized from a rote plot. Its influences are laid bare: The Vanishing, Joy Ride, Duel, and Cedric Kahn's superb Red Lights can all be found in its genetic code. Its dialogue, written by the director, is overwrought, and there are a few moments that are outright laughable in their staginess, but despite these setbacks, the film works for the most part on its lean thrills and kinetic sense of pacing. Beth (Christine Bottomley) has joined her boyfriend Zakes (William Ash) on his rounds to the local rest stops on the M1. He holds the esteemed duty of switching the posters out of the toilet displays. They argue about his unfinished novel and her controlling nature; there's also some business about a man she slept with named Leo. She puts on a sleeping mask and conks out. When the semi-truck that has been behind them overtakes them, its back opens for a flash and Zakes sees a naked woman caged inside. Zakes calls the police and feels that is enough until, at the next rest stop, Beth goes missing. Filmed in handheld by Philipp Blaubach, Tonderai's film springs the same traps as one would expect but he comes to them more fluidly. Eventually bloodied and wounded, Zakes must survive a home assault and a tricky stalk through the woods before he ends up at the driver's compound, protected by a security system and a Rottweiler, not to mention the six-foot menace of a driver who plays cat-and-mouse with him in a maze of shipping containers. Hush isn't provocative nor does it upend any of the stereotypes it goes through but it has its expert touches. The messages from Leo are a nice thermometer of Zakes' desperation, and there is a great sequence where he is outsmarted by one of the driver's accomplices. Much like Taken, this is B-movie mixer with just-add-water structure that nonetheless is directed and filmed with a high amount of urgency. Hush is yet another title in IFC's resurrection of the Midnight Movie and it is exactly the sort of thing they should be playing. They may have made their best decision with Na Hong-jin's The Chaser, but Hush is cheap entertainment done right, a watered-down, few-hundred-generations-removed from the noirs that Howard Hawks and Raoul Walsh used to turn out. Tonderai hasn't put any stamp or signature on his work (yet), but as long as he continues to turn out grade-B junk cinema like this, you won't hear me complaining.