One of my closest high school friends is a gay trucker, so the idea of marginalized voices within the industry is not entirely foreign to me. Writer/director David Drake’s The Long Haul explores another underrepresented perspective through the eyes of CJ Montague (Margo Martindale), a veteran driver who has spent 35 years running her own company, CJM Trucking. In an field still overwhelmingly dominated by men, brash CJ remains behind the wheel well into her seventies, fiercely independent, unwilling to compromise, and answers to no one but herself. Happy to be called a “cunt,” foul-mouthed, and entirely no-nonsense, she lives as a low-maintenance vagabond, dyeing her hair in gas station bathrooms and drifting from one job to the next. Martindale fully inhabits the role, delivering a performance so compelling that at times CJ feels more carefully crafted than the movie surrounding her.
Much of the narrative revolves around CJ’s resistance to change. She dislikes modern technology and remains stubbornly old-school, without even an email address, making it difficult to secure work in a rapidly evolving industry. Although underutilized, Cole Sprouse’s Junior starkly juxtaposes her worldview. He represents a younger generation of truckers who embrace social media and operate by the book with an unreasonably strict set of rules. Junior’s presence encourages CJ to consider retirement, though his role ultimately feels more symbolic than essential to the plot.
Beneath CJ’s hardened exterior lies profound grief. Years after the murder of her daughter, Starling, she remains unable to move forward. Her daughter’s bedroom remains frozen in the 90s, complete with bead curtains untouched by time. Unable to confront her loss, CJ isolates herself from those who shared that chapter of her life. Instead, she takes trucking jobs that keep her constantly on the road, running from an existence she has never fully reconciled.
The strongest moments emerge from CJ’s desperate search for human connection. After the loss of her daughter, she spends time speaking over a truck intercom with an ex-colleague, using the conversations to reflect on life and loneliness. Later, she rescues a Spanish-speaking woman (Yalitza Aparicio) from a man appearing to sexually harass her, and impulsively invites this complete stranger into her home. Drake makes the intriguing choice not to provide subtitles, placing viewers directly in CJ’s perspective. Neither woman fully understands the other’s language, yet they gradually find ways to communicate. The relationship functions both as an expression of CJ’s protective instincts, shaped by what happened to Starling, and as an attempt to fill the emotional void left by years of solitude.
When Starling’s murderer, Wayne (Jefferson White), becomes eligible for parole, CJ is forced to confront the reality she has spent decades avoiding. Predictably, her first instinct is to flee rather than face her unresolved trauma head-on.
Visually, Drake frequently emphasizes the immense scale of CJ’s truck, often framing her as small beside the massive vehicle. The imagery subtly reinforces how insignificant she feels in the face of her grief and the changing world around her. Communication with the outside world largely occurs through voicemails, further underscoring her isolation.
The pacing, however, may prove divisive. Long stretches are devoted to winding highway roads and expansive warehouses. The deliberate rhythm effectively captures the slow-moving nature of a trucker’s life, but it can also test one’s patience. Martindale herself spoke enthusiastically about the measured pace during the Q&A, viewing it as one of the project’s strengths.
Additional flashbacks depicting happier moments with Starling may have provided greater emotional context for CJ’s loss and deepened the audience’s understanding of her grief. Likewise, Junior and the Purvis Freight storyline occupy a substantial portion of the opening act, only to have surprisingly little impact on the overall narrative beyond their thematic significance.
While The Long Haul is clearly aimed at an older audience grappling with an increasingly fast-moving world, its emotional core remains universal. While perhaps too slow and understated for some, Martindale’s remarkable performance and CJ’s moving journey through grief and loneliness make it worthwhile.
Join CJ on the road to self-discovery when The Long Haul premieres at the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival on Sunday, June 7.
