The Woman in Cabin 10 (2025)

Director: Simon Stone
Screenplay: Joe Shrapnel, Anna Waterhouse, Simon Stone
Cast: Keira Knightley, Guy Pearce, David Ajala, Art Malik
Cinematography: Ben Davis
Editing: Katie Weiland, Mark Day
Score: Benjamin Wallfisch
Genre: Psychological thriller
Runtime: 95 minutes

A notable journalist, Laura (Keira Knightley), is invited on a cruise aboard a luxury yacht by a dying billionaire. She accepts the invite, needing to clear her mind after witnessing the murder of the source of a previous article, and also because the terminally ill philanthropist has set up a new charity worth covering.

During Laura’s first night on the superyacht, she overhears an argument coming from the neighbouring cabin. Then a splash. Laura peeks her head over the railing and thinks she’s seen someone in the water. Adamant that that’s the case, Laura refuses to let it go, quickly becoming the pariah among the other guests as she hunts for the truth. Her recent trauma is brought up as an excuse for her behaviour, a prime example of gaslighting.

It’s not just Laura who is the victim of being gaslit; it’s us viewers too. The twist in the tale is so ridiculous it’s insulting. One could argue that none of the characters are attuned to the surrounding events as they’re too self-absorbed. My eyes were glued to the screen for the build-up but the more I watched, and thought about afterwards, the more points I want to deduct from my rating. This seafaring ‘The Lady Vanishes‘ has a plothole so huge, it threatens to sink the boat.

Most of the big name cast feel like they’re there to fill a contractual obligation. Hannah Waddingham, David Morrissey and Kaya Scodelario appear onscreen for a scant amount of minutes, as does Gugu Mbatha-Raw, bookending the film as Laura’s boss.

Maybe Laura did see something hurled overboard – it was me, escaping such fatuousness.

My rating: 5 / 10

Restless (2024)

Director: Jed Hart
Screenplay: Jed Hart
Cast: Lyndsey Marshal, Aston McAuley, Barry Ward
Cinematography: David Bird
Editing: Anna Meller
Genre: Thriller dark comedy drama
Runtime: 89 minutes

Neighbours. Everybody needs good neighbours.

Nicky (Lyndsey Marshal) could only dream for some. She lives alone (her son is at university) in a semi-detached house; the other half used to belong to her deceased parents. Underpaid and underappreciated at her job as a nurse, she spends what little free time she has baking cakes, listening to classical music and watching snooker. Pretty idyllic. Everything changes once next door acquires a new occupant, the aggressive Deano (Aston McAuley). In stark contrast to Nicky, Deano enjoys nothing more than inviting his mates over and blasting obnoxious rave tracks all night. Every night. Relentlessly.

The constant pounding of a bassline invading her bedroom renders poor Nicky an insomniac. She’s become a prisoner inside her own domesticity. A brief respite: a thunderstorm-induced power cut occurs, an exaltation in between bouts of noise pollution. She leaves home one morning and ends up stepping in dog poo, which she assumes is the fault of her neighbour. In a darkly comedic flourish, she scrapes the excrement off her shoe and adds it to her mixing bowl. She presents to Deano: a plate of delicious chocolate treats.

‘Restless‘ is the kind of film that works best in the United Kingdom. If the events had unfolded in an American suburb, Nicky would’ve marched up to Deano’s door and blasted him away with a shotgun after just the first sleepless night. Bang – problem solved. Instead, this is a taut thrill ride where, as the dread gradually mounts, you think things couldn’t get worse…you’re proven wrong. Lyndsey Marshal is fantastic – an underrated actress. Don’t miss it!

My rating: 8 / 10

Marching Powder (2025)

Director: Nick Love
Screenplay: Nick Love
Cast: Danny Dyer, Stephanie Leonidas, Calum MacNab
Cinematography: Simon Stolland
Editing: Pani Scott
Score: Alfie Godfrey
Genre: Comedy
Runtime: 96 minutes

Ah, the ‘c word’. Not ‘cocaine’, on display in copious amounts here. Nor is it ‘cockney’. Or ‘cringe’, though that fits best. I shan’t spell out the real word – if you want to hear it fired in quick succession like a machine gun with Tourette’s, go see ‘Marching Powder‘; it’s about an absolute sod, Jack Jones (Danny Dyer), who has an addiction to drugs and zero self-control. He has a wife too, treated like an afterthought. What she sees in him is anyone’s guess.

Following a brawl with rival football supporters, Jack faces a prison sentence unless he can prove to the court he can turn his life around. What does he do? He picks another fight. He snorts another line of crack. Every time he comes within a 5 mile radius of cleaning up his act, he self-sabotages, paying his old friend nose candy a visit. So much coke was inhaled, I was worried he’d end up resembling Danniella Westbrook.

Danny Dyer is definitely no actor, his fourth wall breaks make it seem as if he’s presenting his life story, if it were the most pathetic biography ever told. A Wikipedia entry doesn’t even exist (at time of writing), as if to say ‘we don’t wish to soil our site with this filth’.

This movie didn’t do anything for me. Wait, that’s not strictly true – it polluted my ears with its incessant swearing. It’s the type of thing that would appeal to a certain ilk; the beer swigging, non-woke men you’d find chanting and cheering their favourite footy team at the pub with the lads.

The short runtime of 96 minutes felt like a stretch; we get it – he’s a loser beyond the point of redemption. It reminded me of something I flushed down the toilet. Did not leave me in ‘high spirits’.

My rating: 3 / 10