Similar to its book-to-film predecessors “The Girl on the Train” and “The Woman in the Window,” “The Woman in Cabin 10” also features a gaslit woman who’s forced to solve a mystery on her own after witnessing a suspicious incident. And much like the aforementioned beach-reads-turned-Hollywood-thrillers, director-co-writer Simon Stone’s adaptation for Netflix also suffers from major missteps by the mid-point, causing any tension to dissipate long before the already-brief run time is up. Still, the sleek production design, symphonic score and performances from a killer ensemble act as a life preserver, making the shenanigans at sea a little less choppy.
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Award-winning investigative journalist Laura “Lo” Blacklock (Keira Knightley) has recently returned to work after a young female source turned up dead. Hoping to distance herself from the grief and guilt, the workaholic petitions her editor (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) to be assigned to a lighter beat, reporting on the maiden voyage of the luxury yacht the Aurora Borealis. The charity affair sailing to Norway is hosted by terminally ill shipping heiress Anne Bullmer (Lisa Loven Kongsli) and her husband Richard (Guy Pearce), benefitting their foundation. Aboard, Laura learns not only that her photographer ex-boyfriend Ben Morgan (David Ajala) is working the event, but also that Anne personally invited her on this excursion. She’s asking for Lo’s assistance in announcing the news that she’s giving away her entire fortune at the end-of-the-line gala in a few days.
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Plans for a relaxing vacation take a turn in the wee hours of their first morning. Lo overhears a scuffle in the cabin next door and a distinct splash in the freezing ocean waters. She believes it’s the nervous woman she briefly bumped into the evening prior. However, after reporting the incident, she’s informed that cabin is vacant. Lo’s attention turns to the guests and staff on the high-tech ship as she tries to figure out the identity of that squirrelly, bedraggled blonde she saw. This includes aging rock star Danny (Paul Kaye), Dame Heidi Heatherly (Hannah Waddingham) and her husband Thomas (David Morrissey), influencer Grace Phillips (Kaya Scodelario), tech magnate Lars Jensen (Christopher Rygh), playboy Adam Sutherland (Daniel Ings) and Anne’s personal doctor Dr. Mehta (Art Malik). As Lo gets closer to the truth, the danger increases as it becomes clear someone wants her dead.
Stone and adapting co-writers Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse (all of whom work from Emma Frost’s adaptation of Ruth Ware’s novel) find it impossible to shake the source material’s inauspicious beginnings, reading as a publisher’s bottom tier “Gone Girl” hopeful and a waterlogged homage to Agatha Christie’s “Death on the Nile.” Even the filmmakers’ Hitchockian influences fail to garner much narrative and thematic weight. That said, production designer Alice Normington gives the aesthetics depth and dimension, from a shell-shaped spiral staircase to the yacht’s curving, reflective surfaces which symbolically mirror these characters’ hidden dualities.
The mystery is less about who’s involved in the game afoot, as alert audiences piecing together context clues will be immediately aware of those nefarious parties upon their introductions, and is more about the puzzling lengths the filmmakers go to in planting contrived red herrings. Discussion of a possible stowaway happens after we already know there is one – single mother Carrie (Gitte Witt). Suspects’ motivations change with little rationale. Heidi, Thomas, Lars and the Bullmer’s head of security Sigrid (Amanda Collin) don’t trust Lo’s sanity, until they magically do in a hacky “let’s hear her out” sequence in the finale. Despite the supporting actors’ deviously delightful depictions of the insufferable nouveau riche, Danny, Grace and Adam offer no motor at all to warrant their inclusion in the line-up, making us wonder if their storylines had been drastically truncated – and, if so, what for.
Benjamin Wallfisch’s compositions are struck in the key of intrigue, cradling us in a comforting soundscape before offsetting our footing. Unfortunately, the rest of the craft work is a mixed bag of goods. The film is aggressively teal with a sallow greige (gray-beige) overcast. Ben Davis’ cinematography seems like it’s continually fighting to hang on to the light during shooting hours. Perhaps the dimming of the light is a metaphor for Lo’s search in the darkness for the truth, but chances are it’s not considering Stone and company rarely apply any visual dexterity to the proceedings.
While our heroine is allotted a smartly executed arc and exhibits self-driven change, missing is a sense of fluidity in Stone’s artistry that could’ve cloaked the lackluster hijinks surrounding her. He surprisingly practices restraint, failing to envision Lo’s paranoia, anxiety and unraveling psychosis through energetic editing and camera movements to denote head-spinning perspective shifts or atmospheric pressure drops. Knightley’s percolating performance captures the mounting pressure, yet Stone’s straightforward direction doesn’t do his leading lady many favors. Any insightful commentary on the 1% protecting themselves is rendered rote with a wimpy, ludicrous dénouement. Maybe with a more daring hand on the helm, our voyage wouldn’t have run out of suspense before the conclusion.
“The Woman in Cabin 10” streams on Netflix starting Oct. 10.