"The Woman in Cabin 10" - A Murder Mystery By Name Alone

It would seem for the past several years Hollywood has been in the midst of a murder mystery frenzy. Heralded in by the Knives Out franchise and sustained by – well that would also be the Knives Out franchise. Ever since 2019, the fingerprints of the murder mystery film have weighed heavy on the brains of cinematic audiences everywhere and Hollywood has certainly tried to fulfill those demands. There are the reliably quirky Knives Out mysteries courtesy of Rian Johnson, Kenneth Branagh’s committed but feeble Agatha Christie adaptations, a few horror-oriented turns like Bodies, Bodies, Bodies and Last Night in Soho, and many others that have fallen through the cracks of streaming. Yet very few of these films have managed to really capture the crackling excitement found in the genre’s literary roots. Viewing Netflix’s new Keira Knightley led, sea-bound murder mystery, The Woman in Cabin 10, it’s clear that current Hollywood still has ways to go in understanding the murder mystery genre.

Adapted from the Ruth Ware novel of the same name, The Woman in Cabin 10 follows determined journalist, Laura Blacklock as she’s thrust into a sinister mystery after accepting an invitation for lavish yacht cruise in Norway with a not-so-colorful cast of wealthy assholes. The premise is all too familiar: someone goes missing and only our plucky protagonist seems to show any interest. As far as a genre goes, The Woman in Cabin 10 is aware of the checklist and it wastes no time covering each item. However, its interest in the murder mystery begins and ends there. The film lays out every tool of the murder mystery genre and lets them sit and gather dust. Like an edit from an Agatha Christie fancam, it’s a smash of imagery with no substance other than being instantly recognizable. 

As a synthesis of everything nasty surrounding Netflix content, The Woman in Cabin 10 is second to none. Its immediate strengths were laid out in the Variety article announcing its pre-production stage: a star driven literary adaptation made for adults. Netflix seems to again misunderstand what makes adult content so thrilling compared to the people pleasing sensibilities of the average theatrical blockbuster. Maturity is designated through a specific criteria. If it’s quiet and is reluctant to show action, then it’s considered adult. Look at the dull grey sludge of the color grading, the misplaced stoicism of the romance, and the declarations of relevancy through thin strands of “class commentary” (if you could even call it that), everything is designed to be the most attention grabbing, against-the-grain mature drama. It tracks that Netflix counts two minutes of watching as a “view”, the effort hits a dead stop as soon as the opening credits fade.

As an adaptation, it is surface level at best and deeply misguided at worst. The most essential element of a mystery story is the mind of the narrator. Phillip Marlowe’s sardonic swagger, Hercule Poirot's sophistication, Sherlock Holme’s blinding intelligence – the conscience of the detective is the key to unlocking the puzzle of the plot. The tricky part of a film is that you don’t have that same liberty in terms of narration, so making your sleuth interesting is a far more difficult task.

The Woman in Cabin 10 seemingly has no interest in characterizing Laura. She interacts with the world and blindly moves through the story on the instincts of a detective rather than the soul of a character. The film is interested in the gotcha detective moments and Laura is simply a cog in the mechanism to get there. It seems as though every 5th line of the book was lifted and turned into the movie while the hundreds of words of exploration and detail surrounding the characters were dumped into the frigid waters of the Arctic Ocean. There’s no voice, no interesting perspective to which the mystery reveals itself to. It merely plods along with information beneath a monotone style, like a wikipedia summary shot by a less talented David Fincher.

You could call it squandered potential, but it would seem like the Netflix execs completed exactly what they intended: Fulfill a content quota, sign a big star, and scoop up a popular IP. They care deeply about keeping up the appearance of a gritty drama but couldn’t be bothered to follow through with the product. There is talent in this film, no doubt about that, but this is not a film made to foster talent or promote creativity. It’s hired hands paid to shuffle studio money so that the ‘New and Popular’ tab on Netflix is a constantly revolving carousel of new stuff. It’s a movie unworthy of your time, and it’s very conscious of that fact, all it needs are those first two minutes. And frankly, we as an audience deserve a bit better.