Movie Review: Final Destination (2000), The Franchise That Refused to Die

When Final Destination hit cinemas in March 2000, no one quite expected that this strange, suspenseful teen horror-thriller—with no physical killer—would not only carve a unique niche in the genre, but also spawn a franchise with a death grip on pop culture for over two decades. Fast forward to today, and Final Destination is still referenced in memes, anxiety-fuelled travel fears, and horror rankings. And rightly so. It's sharp, stylish, and sneakily existential.

So, what makes Final Destination more than just another Y2K-era teen horror flick

The story begins with high school student Alex Browning (Devon Sawa) about to board a flight to Paris with his French class. Minutes before take-off, he has a terrifyingly vivid premonition of the plane exploding mid-air. He panics, causes a stir, and gets kicked off the flight along with a few classmates and a teacher. Moments later, the plane explodes just like he saw. But escaping death isn’t the end—it’s just the beginning. Because, as Alex realises, death has a design… and it's not thrilled about being cheated.

Directed by James Wong (of The X-Files fame), Final Destination is a slick blend of paranoia, supernatural horror, and psychological thriller. The film’s cinematography leans into shadowy corners and symmetrical framing, enhancing a sense of inevitability—like everything is part of a bigger, inescapable pattern. There’s a pervasive stillness to many scenes, punctuated by sudden, often gruesome bursts of action, keeping viewers on a wire-tight edge.

The real star, though, is the film’s editing. The build-ups to each death are mini masterclasses in suspense: Rube Goldberg-esque sequences of ordinary objects turning deadly, laced with red herrings and fake-outs. You know something awful is coming—you just don't know how. And that’s the magic.

Final Destination isn’t just about gory deaths (though it does them brilliantly). It’s about fate, control, and mortality—specifically, our lack of control over the latter. The film essentially asks: If you knew death was coming, could you outsmart it? Would you even want to?

There's also a rich vein of existential dread running through the narrative. Alex’s obsession with “death’s design” mirrors our own human urge to find patterns in chaos, to predict the unpredictable. And let’s not forget the ever-present symbolism of time: ticking clocks, airline boarding passes, shifting shadows—all remind us that time is always running out.

Devon Sawa as Alex Browning delivers a compelling, twitchy performance that oscillates between paranoid prophet and teenage boy next door. He carries the film’s philosophical weight surprisingly well.

Ali Larter as Clear Rivers (yes, that name!) is the brooding outsider with a tragic backstory. She brings a cool, grounded energy to the chaos and would go on to become a fan favourite in later instalments.

Kerr Smith (you might remember him from Dawson’s Creek) as the aggressive Carter brings the testosterone, while Seann William Scott is brilliantly typecast as the goofy, unlucky Billy.

The real unseen character, however, is Death itself. By never giving the antagonist a face or voice, the film adds an eerie omnipresence to its villain. It’s all very X-Files in tone—subtle, clever, and thoroughly creepy.

Final Destination didn’t sweep any major awards, but it did pick up several nominations from horror-focused outlets, including a Saturn Award nomination for Best Horror Film and Best Performance by a Younger Actor (Devon Sawa). Critics were mixed—some called it derivative, while others praised its originality and tension. Over time, however, it's gained significant cult status and a warm seat at the horror table.

Final Destination was originally pitched as an X-Files episode. Writer Jeffrey Reddick reworked it into a feature-length script, and both James Wong and Glen Morgan (also X-Files alumni) joined the project, giving it that distinctive investigative-paranormal flavour.

The film’s premise was inspired by a real-life incident where a woman switched flights after a premonition… and the original plane crashed. Chilling, right?

The deaths were meticulously storyboarded to maximise suspense and misdirection. The now-iconic bathroom death (you know the one) was shot over several days, with close attention to cause-and-effect mechanics.

What started as a standalone horror film has grown into a five-film franchise (with a sixth on the way), comic books, and a loyal fanbase. Each film stuck to the original's blueprint: a dramatic escape from death, followed by increasingly creative demises. Yet each sequel managed to one-up the last in terms of sheer audacity and inventiveness.

And that’s the enduring appeal: the Final Destination films speak to a very primal fear—not of monsters, but of freak accidents, the mundane turned murderous. Anyone can relate to slipping in the bathroom, driving behind a logging truck (don’t even get me started), or using faulty gym equipment.

Final Destination (2000) is a horror film that still feels fresh 20+ years later—not because of the blood or body count, but because of its clever concept and commitment to the invisible enemy trope. It’s sharp, suspenseful, and sneakily philosophical, with just the right amount of popcorn-movie fun.

Whether you’re rewatching it for the nostalgia or introducing it to a new generation of horror lovers, this film is a wickedly fun reminder that sometimes, the scariest villain isn’t a slasher in the shadows—it’s the ticking clock you can’t outrun.