A shaken journalist takes a luxury cruise to cover a puff piece, but instead finds herself embroiled in a murder mystery, in The Woman in Cabin 10, now streaming worldwide on Netflix. This initially intriguing thriller benefits from some top production design and committed performances from a capable cast, but lays out its cards far too early and gets less and less interesting as it stumbles to a laughable conclusion.
Directed by Simon Stone (2021’s The Dig) The Woman in Cabin 10 stars Keira Knightley as Laura Blacklock, an investigative journalist for The Guardian who just witnessed the murder of a source. Her sympathetic editor (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) insists she take some time off, but Laura has a better offer: an invite to cover the maiden voyage of a luxury superyacht (played by the real-life Savannah) which would allow her to keep working while also getting a little R&R.
The vessel, headed towards Scandinavia, has been commissioned by dying Norwegian shipping heiress Anne Lyngstad (Lisa Loven Kongsli) and her husband Richard (Guy Pearce), and among their guests are high-powered businessman Thomas Heatherley (David Morrissey) and his hard-drinking wife Heidi (Hannah Waddingham), catty social media influencer Grace Phillips (Kaya Scodelario), cattier tech bro Adam Sutherland (Daniel Ings), aged rock star Danny Tyler (Paul Kaye) and Laura’s old friend, photographer Ben Morgan (David Ajala).
But Laura’s attempt at relaxation goes awry the very first night, when she hears a scream, sees a woman go overboard, and notices blood on the balcony partition wall. It must be that titular woman in cabin 10, who she inadvertently bumped into earlier in the day. But after initially calling in a mayday emergency, the ship’s crew informs Laura that everyone aboard the yacht has been accounted for—and there never was a guest in cabin 10.
The stage is set for Flightplan-like mystery, as an increasingly paranoid Laura must gather clues while being gaslit, and the ship’s guests suspect her of having a breakdown. She can’t trust anyone here—even the seemingly benevolent Ben, who lets others in on their private conversations, or the ship’s crew, some of whom must be collaborating on the cover-up.
The Woman in Cabin 10 should be a cracking murder mystery in the Alfred Hitchcock–meets–Agatha Christie vein, and the setup—featuring a colorful cast of suspects and an intriguing central mystery—is sufficient to carry the whole movie. But there’s one problem: 20 minutes into the movie, before the mystery angle has even surfaced, Anne informs Laura that she’s disinheriting her husband and giving all her money to charity. Well, gee whiz. Wonder where this is going?
As long as you’re paying attention, an additional conversation between Laura and Anne five minutes after the mystery pops up confirms what we already know, and the mystery is over before it has even been fully established; the next half hour is spent watching Laura catching up to the audience.
But what if you’re not paying attention? Don’t worry: a full ten minutes of exposition an hour into the movie lays everything out nice and clear for everyone who has Netflix on in the background while scrolling through their phones. The remainder of the film becomes a straightforward thriller that punishes the perceptive audience, who is left picking at the bones of the mystery, which makes less and less sense the more the film tries to explain it away.
Worst of all: that colorful cast of characters has nothing to do here. Kaye, Morrissey, Waddingham, and Scodelario are completely wasted in extraneous roles that play no role in the central storyline, and are largely relegated to the background for the entire movie.
The Woman in Cabin 10 was adapted by Ruth Ware from the 2016 novel by Emma Frost (The White Queen)—and then re-adapted by the director and Joe Shrapnel & Anna Waterhouse (Frost gets a rare “based on an adaptation by” credit). Clearly, something was lost in the process of adaptation. The mystery is usually revealed at the end in stories like this one; here, they tell us the butler did it at the end of act one, have the detective figure out the butler did it at the end of act two, and then let the butler and detective fight it out for the rest of the movie.
What The Woman in Cabin 10 does have, however, is a certain feeling of sleekness and elegance, thanks to its elaborate sets on the striking superyacht. Evocative cinematography from Ben Davis (The Banshees of Inisherin) also helps, especially on the chilly Scandinavian locations glimpsed at the end of the film, which are actually played by those around the Glen Affric Estate in the Scottish Highlands.
Ware’s novel followed a trend of female-led mysteries in the wake of Gillian Flynn‘s Gone Girl, but this film version is much closer to the mishandled adaptation of Paula Hawkins‘ The Girl on the Train. Another similar Netflix product, The Woman in the Window, also makes for an excellent comparison. These movies had everything they needed to succeed as top-flight entertainment—except a coherent story.
