Don't Move

When I first saw the trailer for Netflix's {Don't Move}, I was instantly taken by it. A tight horror-thriller with a very basic premise that seemed to ooze tension and fear. What more could you want? The big question with this flick is whether it has enough oomph and quality to stick the landing, and after just seeing the credits roll, it's clear that directors Brian Neto and Adam Schindler did enough to make this film feel like a worthy watch.

Before I get into why you should spend 90 minutes watching {Don't Move} over the weekend, let me give you a very quick summary of the plot. Kelsey Asbille stars as a grieving woman who, while on the verge of ending it all, meets a charismatic man while out in the wilderness of {Big Sur}, California. Asbille's {Iris} soon discovers that this man is more than meets the eye, and after a harrowing encounter, she is injected with a paralysing serum that will take control of her body and render it useless in 20 minutes. This sparks a huge escape effort, one that barely ever goes to plan, but with enough success that Finn Wittrock's serial killer Richard starts to panic while chasing {Iris} and dealing with any unexpected threats that could prevent him from reaching his end goal of spilling her blood.

It's a very basic premise and it's one of the reasons that the film works so well. It doesn't waste time and energy on additional narrative threads and characters, this is a story about killer and victim and on this journey we are treated to a whole slew of really tense and unsettling events that make you want to scream at your TV while watching clueless characters attempt to piece together what's really happening as Richard spins lies and {Iris} struggles for her life. And these kinds of moments are absolutely jam-packed into this film. Between the scene in the cabin with Moray Treadwell's Bill, the moment at the petrol station with the young boy and his mother, and the best of them all, the gripping and almost frustratingly tense part with Daniel Francis' police officer Dontrell. These moments in {Don't Move} aren't scary or frightening, but they are so unbelievably tense that you don't want to look away.

While Asbille is the leading star of this film, it's actually Wittrock that stands out in a performance sense. This is partly due to the fact that Asbille spends most of the film in a paralytic state whereas Wittrock puts his full emotional scale to use in an attempt to portray the doting father, the loving husband, and then when he ultimately stumbles and makes a mistake, slips back into the mindset of a ruthless and twisted killer. It's not a performance that will find itself in the horror hall of fame, but it certainly serves the purpose and makes you really loathe this character that Wittrock has been tasked with presenting.

The stunning environment of {Big Sur} also serves as a fantastic backdrop for this film and allows the crew to present some excellent shots. The polarising concept of having such a twisted tale unravelling in such a tranquil and stunning location works to great effect and frequently makes this film a feast for the eyes without the need of CGI or expensive post-production additions.

I will say that the pacing sometimes loses itself. The part of the film where {Iris} is running for her life before the paralytic agent takes effect seems to fly by, leaving the rest of the film to hobble along after it. I can't help but feel as though this core premise wasn't explored to a great enough effect. Still, the quicker turn around toward the start does open the door to some of the more engaging scenes later on, all while ensuring this film doesn't overstay its welcome and maintains a tight runtime.

While there are clear better and worse moments in {Don't Move}, it's still a compelling thriller to watch. The performances are strong, the focus is tight, the camera framing and environment choice works well, and it doesn't overstay its welcome. Netflix has produced much, much worse than {Don't Move} in the past, and often with bigger names and a pricier cost too.