Warning: spoilers ahead.
I wish I could say I loved this movie.
Why? Picture this. Young Haven, definitely sunburnt, definitely eating toffee chocolate chip cookies, sat on the rocky sands of a Lake Tahoe beach. What’s she doing? Reading a scintillating, probably too-old-for-her-age book called The Woman in Cabin 10 — a book that so immersed her in the world of Lo Blacklock that she struggled to come up and appreciate the crystal waters in front of her.
As the adage goes, the book is always better than the movie. However, sitting down to watch The Woman in Cabin 10, semi-warm chicken tikka masala in hand, I had some hope, especially because I so loved the book. I thought a star-studded cast, with the likes of Kiera Knightley (I’m forever thinking about that hand squeeze), Guy Pierce (if you haven’t, please watch The Count of Monte Cristo — it changed my life), and Hannah Waddingham (Ted Lasso. Need I say more) would be sure to adapt one of my trusted psychological thrillers into a masterpiece. Turns out I thought wrong.
Where was the suspense? Where was the drama? The spiciest bit of fear I felt was when the main character, Lauren (Lo) Blacklock (Knightley), was locked in a basement of the mega yacht, the setting for nearly the entire hour and thirty-five minutes. And in that case, it was to protect her from the maniacs who were pushing her off railings and coming at her with ambiguous needles of death serum, so, pretty much for her own good and completely valid.
Before I get too ahead of myself, let me provide some context. This story, first a book written by Ruth Ware and published in 2016, follows renowned journalist Lo as she takes a break from hard-hitting journalism to cover the philanthropic (ish) virgin voyage of Richard and Anne Bullmer’s yacht. Accompanied by all their billionaire friends, the couple is celebrating Anne’s life and mourning her losing battle with cancer, the catalyst for a foundation the couple is funding on this voyage. However, when Lo sees someone thrown overboard but cannot identify who the victim or perpetrator is, and with everyone on board accounted for, she begins to think she’s either crazy, paranoid, or stuck on a boat with insane killers — or hey, all three at once!
Ostensibly, this paranoia is where the suspense would come in. However, once I looked beyond the champagne, the disco ball dress, and Lo’s killer brunette bob, there was absolutely no internal questioning or stellar performances to be found onscreen. I didn’t see Lo grappling with her past trauma, which another random passenger brought up, but that was never really dived into. I didn’t see Lo entertaining multiple suspects beyond asking where everyone was the night of the incident. I didn’t see the backstories of some of the most interesting people. Instead, all I saw was pretty blue water and a lovely yacht.
Of course, there were glimpses of interest, such as Waddingham’s character being found asleep in a bathtub and Lo being told not to get on her bad side for unknown reasons, but beyond that? Nothing. Almost like every chip bag that’s ever been produced, as soon as you get a taste, there’s none actually left to enjoy. I think this summary is helpful in how the film felt: Opening scene BAM we’re on the boat BAM she sees something suspicious BAM person overboard BAM we know the suspect BAM we’re actually right. And that’s it! That’s the whole movie.
The irony of this watch is that, in terms of delivery, the book couldn’t have been further from this adaptation. Ware does not disappoint with her prose, and I distinctly remember reading this book holding my breath and on the edge of my seat (as much as you can be on a beach). I wanted that same experience in a film, because I’m a firm believer that a great story — when done right — remains a great story no matter how many times you’ve heard, read, or seen it.
Instead, I was just disappointed. Perhaps it would have been better as a longer movie, so more threads of suspects could be unraveled, but I think a bigger issue is the supreme lack of subtlety. Or, in other words, there was none, making me once again appreciate the differences between reading and visually watching stories unfold.
What irks me is how much potential this movie had. Lo is a journalist, apparently a very good one, and this “thriller” is from her perspective, yet we knew almost everything from the beginning — or, really, it wasn’t hard to figure out. As an amateur journalist myself (thank you, Redondo Union High School’s High Tide!), the whole point of psychological pieces is to experiment, question, and then question again as you go. I fear that if you label something as a psychological thriller, packed with suspense, it actually has to be thrilling and suspenseful.
The book certainly held suspense, so I wonder where the disconnect was when it was put into production. Considering that there was an intense bidding war over the rights to this book, you would think whoever won would want to do it justice. Alas, I cannot say justice was done to Ruth Ware’s book that captivated me so while sitting by that clear blue Lake Tahoe shore. I’ll remember the book fondly, but this movie? It can be forgotten.