Duel (1971)
- Soames Inscker

- Apr 7
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 8

Introduction
Before Jaws and before Close Encounters, there was Duel—a lean, relentless, white-knuckle suspense film that played like Hitchcock on wheels. Shot originally as a made-for-TV movie and later released theatrically due to critical acclaim, Duel marked Steven Spielberg’s first full-length directing effort.
At just 24 years old, Spielberg delivered a masterclass in tension that turned an everyday situation—driving down a desolate highway—into a waking nightmare.
Despite its modest origins, Duel is a deeply cinematic experience. With almost no dialogue, a single on-screen actor, and a plot that could fit on a napkin, the film still grips from start to finish, revealing Spielberg's early genius for pacing, visual storytelling, and psychological suspense.
Plot Summary (Spoilers Ahead)

David Mann (Dennis Weaver), a mild-mannered salesman, is driving across the California desert on a business trip. His journey begins uneventfully, until he passes a slow-moving, rusted-out Peterbilt tanker truck on a lonely stretch of highway. The truck, anonymous and looming, soon overtakes him and begins to aggressively menace him on the road.
At first, the harassment seems like a case of road rage. But soon, the truck’s behaviour turns sadistic. It blocks Mann from passing, tailgates him dangerously, tries to force him into oncoming traffic, and even attempts to push him off cliffs. The driver is never seen—he is a silent, malevolent force hiding behind the windshield, turning a machine into a weapon.
As the chase escalates across sun baked highways, gas stations, and empty diners, Mann is pushed to the brink. The climax arrives in a deadly confrontation between man and machine, with Mann forced to make a final, desperate stand.
Themes and Analysis
The Anonymity of Evil

One of the most unsettling aspects of Duel is that we never see the truck driver. This decision, both practical and symbolic, turns the antagonist into an abstract force—a representation of unprovoked hostility, of danger with no face or reason. Spielberg draws a terrifying parallel to the idea that evil doesn’t need a motive, and that it often comes out of nowhere.
The truck becomes an extension of this idea: it breathes, growls, spews smoke. It’s alive but inhuman. It’s a monster not from another world, but from the mundane world of highways and motor oil.
Masculinity and Powerlessness
David Mann (note the name—“Everyman”) is a symbol of modern man: polite, repressed, and increasingly emasculated. He’s a passive figure at the start, trying to follow the rules and avoid conflict. But as the truck terrorizes him, he is forced to shed his civility and tap into a primal will to survive.
In this way, Duel is also a psychological transformation story. Mann doesn’t just escape danger—he reclaims agency. But Spielberg makes sure we feel the cost: this isn’t heroism, it’s desperation.
Technology as a Threat
Made during the rise of car culture and industrialization, Duel presents technology not as a marvel but as a menace. The truck is a hulking, smoke-belching dinosaur, designed to do work but perverted into a killing machine.
This theme of nature versus machine—and man versus his own creations—echoes throughout Spielberg’s later films, from the mechanical shark in Jaws to the alien spacecraft in War of the Worlds.
Isolation and Paranoia
Set in barren landscapes with little human contact, Duel exploits the fear of isolation. Mann’s attempts to seek help are constantly frustrated. The roadside diner scene is particularly telling: he suspects every man around him of being the driver, but he can’t prove anything. His paranoia is mirrored by the viewer’s—everyone looks suspicious, and no one is safe.
Direction and Cinematic Style

Despite its TV origins, Spielberg’s direction is bold, cinematic, and visionary. He shoots from low angles, inside rear view mirrors, and uses long tracking shots to emphasize speed and danger. His use of the 1955 Peterbilt truck—chosen for its asymmetry and age—makes it look both realistic and monstrous.
What’s most impressive is Spielberg’s command of visual storytelling. With almost no exposition, he builds tension through motion, pacing, sound design, and clever editing. Spielberg stretches out the tension like a rubber band, tightening the screws until the final explosive release.
The final showdown—Mann driving headlong toward the truck and leaping out at the last second—is pure, wordless, cinematic storytelling.
Performance
Dennis Weaver, best known from Gunsmoke and McCloud, gives a brilliantly physical performance. With little dialogue, he has to communicate growing fear, rage, and desperation through expression and movement. He carries the entire film on his shoulders, and he does so with conviction and vulnerability.
His inner monologues—added later for the television version—are slightly dated in tone, but they effectively reveal his mental breakdown as the situation spirals.
Sound Design and Music
Billy Goldenberg’s minimalist score enhances the film’s nerve-jangling atmosphere without overwhelming it. But the real star is the sound design: the rumble of the truck, the screech of tires, the hiss of compressed air. Spielberg knew when to go loud and when to go quiet, using silence like a blade.
Symbolism and Interpretations
Some critics have read Duel as a metaphor for:
The fear of emasculation in modern society.
Cold War paranoia, where unseen enemies stalk and strike without provocation.
A critique of modern road rage and how quickly civility disintegrates under pressure.
An existential battle: man vs. fate, modernity vs. instinct, civilization vs. the unknown.
The beauty of Duel lies in its simplicity. It can be read literally or allegorically. Either way, it’s terrifying.
Legacy and Influence
Duel may have started as a TV movie, but its impact has been immense. It launched Spielberg’s career, proving his talent for suspense, pacing, and cinematic technique. The film paved the way for Jaws (another story of a man vs. an unstoppable, impersonal predator), and has inspired filmmakers from Quentin Tarantino to George Miller (Mad Max).
Its DNA is visible in later thrillers like:
Joy Ride (2001)
The Hitcher (1986)
Maximum Overdrive (1986)
Breakdown (1997)
In 2004, Duel was included in the U.S. National Film Registry for being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”
Conclusion
Duel is a masterclass in minimalist suspense filmmaking. With a modest budget, a single actor, and a simple premise, Spielberg crafted a relentless and nerve-wracking thriller that still holds up today. It’s a film that proves you don’t need spectacle to make something cinematic—just a clear vision, airtight execution, and an instinct for fear.
This is Spielberg at his most raw and primal—and it's brilliant.




