Delivery Run propels itself from stationary to locomotion within a few short minutes. Shots of Nisswa, a tiny Minnesota town surrounded by lakes and mountains, followed by the harrowing murder of a man by snowplough, then a close-up of a goldfish bowl. The fish swims inside, oblivious, alongside the inverted reflection of a person. This is Lee.
From the off, Lee (played pitch-perfect by world-weary Brit, Alexander Arnold) isn’t terribly likeable, but he is recognisable and relatable to the millennial experience. To have spent all those years studying (cookery and culinary arts in his case) to end up wracked with debt and bills on final notice, all the while relying on the gig economy to plug the gap. He dreams of running a food truck; instead he’s stuck delivering food other people have made, saving tips for a goal that’s as good as out of reach. But, like the short memory of his beloved goldfish, he keeps gambling away his earnings, hoping for a big win to solve all his problems. Until then, he still owes the local crime gang thousands.
With no other choice, Lee plans an all-nighter for the local Uber-Eats-style delivery service to earn the money he needs. Until he crosses paths with a deranged geriatric snowplough driver and seals his fate, in a thrilling cat-and-mouse chase through icy Minnesota roads that haven’t been shot so evocatively since 1996’s Fargo.
Delivery Run is the sophomore effort from Finnish director Joey Palmroos (reuniting with co-writer Anders Holmes) and shows a filmmaker brimming with technical ability and creative flair — not to mention cinema literacy, especially when it comes to slashers and Spielberg’s classic run. There’s even a shot more than a little reminiscent of Jurassic Park’s kitchen scene. When it comes to the snowplough itself, Palmroos shoots it as though directing Fury Road’s war rig, mutating what’s ordinarily a symbol of civic service into something almost demonic. Think Christine in Crow Wing County.
State troopers describe two recently disappeared hikers as a “wild animal situation”, reframing the snowplough into a feral creature with all the hallmarks of wolves and bears. Left alone, they’re often fine, but provoked or encroached on, they’ll attack. As our killer (dubbed Mr Plough by Lee) lacks any background or origin story, he and his plough often feel more like a force of nature. But as the sparking metal and growling engine attest, this plough is mechanical so far better represents the unnatural: namely, the grinding machinery of capitalism. A metaphor that could have been taken further if we were never shown the driver, only offered a glimpse of a shadow at the wheel.
Delivery Run is a film of thirds: the drama of Lee’s life, the car chases, and a slasher. A different kind of slasher, certainly, but one which conforms to many of the same rules and visual language: an obligatory jump scare as a shadow moves across the screen; the close-up of a bloody murder weapon trailing along a surface. Lee is being hunted and the fault’s on him; he honked at Mr Plough, he recklessly overtook on an icy road, and he threw a milkshake at his windscreen. Far from a proportional response, of course, but Mr Plough hunts Lee as relentlessly as a masked killer after any drug-taking, sexually active teen. Only there’s not a teen in sight. Think of this as a slasher for burned-out, financially insecure millennials as sure as Scream was for the cynical, fiercely independent Gen Xers. And, like Scream, there’s plenty of dark laughs to be had too.
But Delivery Run is at its very best when we’re on the road with the often unbearable tension, the dynamic camera work on par with any ‘car fu’ seen in John Wick, and the excellent piano, strings, and choral score from composer Tuomas Kantelinen and performed by the Budapest Art Orchestra.
Confounding the simple yet effective themes — millennial malaise, the artificial versus the natural, generational wealth gaps — is a supernatural plot contrivance that props up an ending that feels rushed, convenient, and unearned. All the suspense that’s been expertly built over successive chases, combined with Arnold’s emotionally wracked and visceral anxiety, isn’t diffused in a satisfying crescendo. It only melts and evaporates like winter ice with the arrival of spring.
DISTRIBUTOR
Plaion Pictures
DIRECTOR
Joey Palmroos
SCREENPLAY
Joey Palmroos
Anders Holmes
CAST
Alexander Arnold
Jussi Lampi
DIGITAL
6 October 2025
