Paramount Pictures Different movies serve different functions. Some are profound and staggering works of art; others are meant as disposable fodder for first dates and people looking for somewhere cool to hang out when their air conditioning is busted. Passenger has no real ambitions beyond the latter, and its lack of pretension is the majority of this mid-tier studio programmer’s charm. That being said, despite the stylistic efforts of director André Øvredal, Passenger is as predictable and underwhelming as a microwaved gas-station meal. Young couple Tyler (Jacob Scipio) and Maddie (Lou Llobell) are eating a lot of the latter, as they recently vacated their Brooklyn apartment with the intention of traveling America in the orange passenger van Tyler bought with his savings from an unspecified, but presumably high-paying, career. Tyler has never been happier, but the lack of stability leaves Maddie, well, unsettled, especially after a bizarre encounter with an aggressive driver on the outskirts of Gatlinburg, Tennessee. That’s when Maddie starts hearing strange noises and seeing a creepy old man dressed as a priest with long hair and glowing eyes, the mere mention of whom sends fellow nomad Diane (Melissa Leo) into full-on urban legend mode. As it turns out, the “Passenger” (Joseph Lopez) is a well-known figure among long-term van dwellers, and had Tyler and Maddie taken the time to consult them before selling everything they owned to live out an Instagram fantasy, they would have learned the rules: Never drive at night, never pause along the road, and never stop to help when you see a crash. Just mind your business and keep it moving — which, of course, Maddie and Tyler did not do. Now, in short, they’re doomed. Diane (Melissa Leo) explains the Passenger to Maddie (Lou Llobell). | Paramount PicturesØvredal is Norwegian, and the film’s aesthetic touchstones — generic pop-country music, retro diners lined with Route 66 wallpaper — have the outsider’s perspective of a European on a road trip, vaguely correct but just a few degrees off from what an American might consider authentic. (One of Øvredal’s more trenchant observations is that his version of the U.S. is mostly made up of parking lots.) References to IPAs, Bob Ross, and the #VanLife trend — all of which peaked in the 2010s — enhance the film’s warmed-over quality, and the cumulative impression is that Passenger takes place in an alternate reality that’s slightly more insipid than our own. The characters also speak in a direct, overly expository fashion, explicitly stating their intentions in clunky dialogue full of generic details that try, and fail, to make them feel like real human beings. The usual culprit for this type of sledgehammer-subtle writing is studio notes, and it is possible that Zachary Donohue and T.W. Burgess’ screenplay had a bit more depth than what we get from the final film. But the way the film engages with its supernatural elements is also shallow, particularly when it comes to St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. Here, the St. Christopher medal familiar from the dashboards of pious Catholic mothers functions as a deus ex machina, a sort of magical talisman that saves Maddie and Tyler every time Donohue and Burgess write their leads into a particularly inescapable corner. Trapped in the back of a locked van with the Passenger? Hit him with that St. Christopher medal and watch him slither away. Stuck with an antagonist who’s immortal and inescapable? Dunno — maybe there’s a shrine to St. Christopher in the desert or something?Tyler (Jacob Scipio) and Maddie (Lou Llobell) with that magical St.Christopher medal. | Paramount Pictures It’s clumsy and it’s lazy, and it effectively cancels out Øvredal’s attempts to add some stylistic flair to this otherwise very paint-by-numbers film. A scene where Maddie and Tyler attempt to stage an impromptu movie night at their campsite (they’re watching Roman Holiday, also a Paramount picture) becomes infinitely more interesting when Tyler begins using the projector as a spotlight, casting Cary Grant’s ghostly face out into the darkened woods to illuminate whatever’s making that creepy noise. But the tension doesn’t last. Passenger does finally gain some horrifying momentum in its final act, but by then it’s too late. But the most damning thing about Passenger is that its many, many jump scares fail to excite or surprise. Øvredal has what it takes to build intense, nail-biting suspense: His English-language debut The Autopsy of Jane Doe was full of it, and although it was less successful, The Last Voyage of the Demeter had its frightening moments as well. By comparison, Passenger has the entertainment value of a lukewarm plate of movie-theater nachos: Enjoyable enough in the moment, but destined to be tossed out and forgotten as soon as you leave the theater. Passenger opens in theaters on May 22.