The Woman in Cabin 10- Review

 

Ah yes, The Woman in Cabin 10. A thriller that promises Hitchcock on the high seas and instead delivers a mildly confusing hangover on a ferry to nowhere.

Let’s start with the premise: a travel journalist, Lo Blacklock, boards a luxury cruise for a puff-piece assignment. She’s meant to sip champagne, write about rich people, and enjoy the view. Instead, she hears a splash in the night, thinks she’s witnessed a murder, and — surprise! — nobody believes her. Imagine Rear Window, but instead of Jimmy Stewart and binoculars, it’s a drunk woman waving her iPhone at the North Sea.

Now, the first half actually pulls you in. There’s atmosphere, paranoia, and just enough claustrophobia to make you check the air vents. The setting — a posh, high-tech yacht with only a handful of passengers — should be perfect for tension. But then, things start to wobble. Not in a “storm at sea” sort of way. More in a “the plot’s sprung a leak and nobody brought duct tape” sort of way.

Lo, our heroine, spends the entire film (or book, depending on which version you’re suffering through) in a permanent state of panic. Fair enough — she’s possibly witnessed a murder. But after the third screaming breakdown and fourth wine glass, you start rooting for the killer. She’s the kind of person who could make a spa day feel like a hostage situation.

The story wants to be a psychological thriller, but it’s so riddled with red herrings you could open a fish market. Everyone looks suspicious, everyone lies, and yet somehow… it still manages to be predictable. By the time the “twist” arrives, you’ve already guessed it, rolled your eyes, and checked how long’s left.

Visually (if you’re watching the adaptation), it’s slick enough — gleaming decks, endless oceans, and more Scandinavian furniture than an IKEA catalogue. But the pacing drags like an anchor. The suspense comes in short bursts, separated by long, tedious stretches of “am I going mad or is everyone else insane?”

And the ending… well, without spoiling too much, let’s just say it tries for shocking but lands closer to mildly inconvenient. It’s the cinematic equivalent of dropping your sandwich on the floor — disappointing, but not tragic.

Verdict: 5/10. A thriller with a great setting, a wobbly script, and a protagonist who should’ve stayed on dry land. It’s stylish, yes, but about as thrilling as watching your Wi-Fi reconnect.

If it were a car, it’d be a Volvo estate painted black — safe, sturdy, and utterly incapable of surprising anyone.