One of the more prolific horror/thriller creators right now, Christopher Landon is especially skilled at injecting absurd but relatable comedy into his inventive and exciting stories. His latest, Drop, takes a Hitchcockian premise and shoots it into a relentlessly modern context while smoothing it all over with stylish flair that will have your eyes popping.
Like a throwback to the 2000s, when everyone was remaking Hitchcock thrillers with new, updated contexts (Flightplan, Disturbia, A Perfect Murder, Murder by Numbers, etc.), Drop features a relatively small cast of characters racing against time and each other's wits in a single location. In an age when thrillers tend to get aggressively disturbing, or otherwise stretch themselves too thin with vague plotting or esoteric meaning, it's wonderfully refreshing to witness one that intentionally sets tight limitations with the intent to fully exploit each possibility therein. I had hoped last year's Trap, for example, would fit in a similar vein to this, but that film violated the strictures of its own premise; Drop keeps us locked into its obvious -- but no less intense -- agenda: sending us on a highly entertaining roller coaster ride.
Violet (Meghann Fahy of series The White Lotus, The Perfect Couple, and Sirens) is going on a date for the first time since the death of the father of her young child. It's been years after a terrifying prologue that dramatizes the violence he had enacted on her, and yes, whether or not she's implicated in his death will be an explicit concern later. This is not the kind of film to leave questions or possibilities unconsidered. Leaving young Toby home with her younger sister, Violet dolls herself up and goes to a fancy high-rise restaurant overlooking Chicago, determined but anxious to meet the man she's been texting for some time. Henry arrives a tad late, giving the screenplay enough time to very quickly ratchet up suspense. Between casual conversation with the bartender and hostess, the piano player, and another person waiting for his own blind date, Violet begins receiving digital (and titular!) "drops" of messages on her phone from someone in her near vicinity. As anyone familiar with Scream would guess, what starts as cutesy quickly becomes alarming: the sender shows a masked man at her home, ready to murder Violet's sister and son, if she does not acquiesce to their demands (not unlike Saw, either, for that matter).
Trying not to panic, Violet awkwardly stumbles through her initial impression with Henry (Brandon Sklenar), and that's about as far as I'll go with plotting. Part of the joy of watching films like this is witnessing the yarn unspooling and being unable to stop it (much like part of the joy of most sitcoms is screaming at the TV, "Just tell the truth and you wouldn't be in this mess!"), so enjoy the plot as you're hurling along it at breakneck speed. Landon's got you covered.
But I want to pause here for two other reasons. First, for all that this film tries to do in terms of tension and excitement and pulp, its most effective moments for me are drenched not with camp or action but rather with unspoken anxiety. Violet's antics as she struggles against mounting panic are laughably strange, yes, but they're also fuel for our own anxieties as we root for her to figure a way out of her situation. She keeps looking at her phone during the date, of course for obvious reasons, but the camera often focuses us on Henry's notice of it and subtle disappointment. They take turns awkwardly going to the restroom, getting a new table, going to get more drinks, etc., and constantly bounce off each other so that they are actively not connecting in any helpful ways. We want her date to go well.
And cringe as that last sentence may be, it remains true. This is mostly due to a little thing we rarely discuss anymore: chemistry. Fahy and Sklenar are effortlessly likable in this film, and the pull their characters exert on each other, even from opposite sides of the restaurant, yanks our attention in the best way. Each exhibits the kind of screen presence that made golden age Hollywood stars the impetus for creating a whole movie around them. And the screenplay and direction lean into that, which we simply don't see in films anymore. Their magnetic energy allows the more logistically complex buildup to the climax feel both earned and necessary, helping us ignore gaping plot holes in favor of just enjoying the wild ride of Violet's experience.
Post-screening discussions should probably include some appreciation for how this film presents commentary on domestic abuse and how surviving women get hamstrung by a society that chooses not to hear or trust them. This story smartly introduces and sidesteps lots of tropes adjacent to that area of concern, especially regarding Violet's admirable endurance as well as Henry's characterization as distinctly not a knight sent to her rescue. And even as it deals with surviving abuse and overcoming fear in an age of surveillance and virtual connections, the film never feels too heavy or serious. It's grounded, but not intentionally funny in the style of Landon's other directorial ventures. And, by film's end, I felt as elated as if I had just disembarked the latest coaster at Six Flags.
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