My quick rating - 2.9/10. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if three bored teenagers raided a gas station snack aisle and accidentally ingested experimental depression burritos, Into the Gravel Pit has you covered. Miley, Carter, and Isaiah have been best friends forever and apparently share a passion for two things: exotic drugs and looking like they legally still need a hall pass.
The movie tries to juggle two stories: the teens gearing up for a chemically enhanced farewell tour before “most likely college” (translation: rehab or retail), and two estranged parents reconnecting with their dying daughter. Lisa Wilcox shows up and reminds everyone what acting looks like, which only highlights how everyone else appears to be performing in a high school anti-drug PSA filmed during lunch break.
The first “trip,” if we can call it that, kicks in with Miley, played by Rylie Rodriguez—text header let me know who I was following. Her delirium escalates into a showdown with a drunk dad and his baseball bat. It’s not scary so much as confusing, like watching someone try to fight alcoholism with Little League equipment. The sound quality doesn’t help—everyone might as well be mumbling their lines into a pillow two rooms over.
Next up: Isaiah (Mikael Dawkins), who decides this is the perfect time to profess his love to Carter by telling her he “needs” her. Nothing says romance like sounding like a malfunctioning Roomba. She friend-zones him with surgical precision, and off he goes to make love to a pile of trash bags in a parking lot. If this drug is supposed to be fun, the director forgot to include the part where it looks remotely enjoyable.
Finally, Carter (Samantha Makley) takes her turn in her thrift-store-hippie habitat. Her trip ends with a deeply unsettling bout of self-harm after losing an argument with her own reflection. It’s the only moment that aims for emotional weight, but it’s like watching someone try to perform Shakespeare with a rubber spoon.
Eventually, the parents’ storyline intersects with Miley’s meltdown, confirming what you probably deduced an hour earlier: subtlety was not invited to this production. Carter’s long-winded monologue at the beginning circles back at the end, attempting depth with the success rate of a flatlined EKG.
To the film’s microscopic credit, writer/director Colin Bressler does manage to pull the two plotlines together. It’s wobbly, it’s rushed, and it’s stitched with the grace of a glue stick— but it does meet in the middle, technically qualifying as structure.
In the end, Into the Gravel Pit feels less like a narrative and more like a D.A.R.E. presentation that ate itself. Between the muffled dialogue, bizarre “burrito drug” concept, and emotionally scattered trips, the message is clear: don’t do drugs, especially not ones purchased from a movie this confused.
There’s a glimmer of something under all the noise, but it’s buried somewhere in the gravel.
https://jackmeat.com/into-the-gravel-pit-2025/
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