Last year, my Instagram account got hacked. On top of the pressures that come with being in tech for a play and navigating the tricky first stages of being in a new relationship, I had to deal with the stress of hackers locking me out of my account, messaging my friends to request money and threatening to delete all of my photos (including many of my dog who had recently passed) if I didn’t give them money.
I remember the creeping dread every time my phone would buzz with a new notification, the agony of waiting between messages and hoping they would leave me alone, the utter helplessness I felt when trying to get Meta’s non-existent “customer service” to resolve the issue. Although I was eventually able to kick the hackers out of my account, for months afterward I would continuously get kicked out of Facebook and Instagram and have to prove my identity to log back in. On the surface, it may seem like not that big of a deal to lose an Instagram and Facebook account, but since I work in social media, there were greater stakes beyond just losing a few photos.
All this is to say that I could very closely relate to the protagonist’s struggles in the new Blumhouse thriller Drop.
Violet, played by Meghann Fahy, is a single mother and a survivor of domestic abuse who is finally giving love a chance again in the years since her husband’s death. What is supposed to be a romantic first date in a swanky high-rise restaurant with charming photographer Henry (Brandon Sklenar), is transformed into a night of torment when Violet a number of threatening memes and texts are airdropped to her phone (hence, the title) threatening to kill her son and sister if she does not kill her date.
I’m a big fan of thrillers and murder mysteries, and Drop is a surprisingly competent and engaging whodunnit. As many people who were leaving my screening said, “if a movie is supposed to entertain you, then it did its job.”
So let’s get the bad stuff out of the way first, shall we?
The broad strokes of Drop‘s story are compelling and engaging. However, it relies too much on suspension of disbelief and a “just-go-with-it attitude.” The entire film would cease to happen if, as occurs in real life, our couple had to reschedule their date or if Violet’s trauma overwhelmed her and caused her to get cold feet. I can’t say too much without revealing spoilers, but in one particularly egregious moment where the cool visual gotcha moment outweighs logic, a key item almost seems to teleport onto a plate somehow. Or maybe I’m just not making the appropriate logical jumps to their necessary conclusions?
Still, there are so many plot holes and unanswered questions. These bits of missing information don’t make a difference to the end result of the story, but it would make for a more enjoyable film if these little holes were patched over. For example, a major plot point is that Violet’s phone has been cloned by the antagonist, but it’s never revealed how or when it was done. It is more or less implied that the villain isn’t working alone and probably has some help from the restaurant staff, but this is also never acknowledged. I’m okay with films leaving some aspects of their stories open to interpretation or logically leading you to a conclusion that isn’t explicitly stated. Drop, unfortunately plays a little too lose with its plot points.
My only other gripe is that Drop undercuts its own tension with melodrama. Director Christopher Landon is no stranger to creating stylish, fun films, especially with Blumhouse, like the Happy Death Day series and Freaky. His stylistic decisions for Drop, like slow-motion moments, the ebbing and flowing of the music and blacking out the rest of the set to spotlight the newest suspect remove us from the tension that has been otherwise built up through the skill of the actors and the events happening in real time. The restaurant isn’t that crowded and there aren’t that many legitimate suspects, we don’t need you to spoon-feed us this part of the story. It’s a fun film, but it’s neither smart nor slick enough to justify itself here.
Fortunately, the overall experience of watching Violet and Henry’s terrible date unfold is as enjoyable for the audience to watch as it is miserable for them to experience. The calm elegance of the restaurant is an excellent foil to the harrowing ordeal Violet is going through. The AirDrop element is a small but central tweak to the formula of an anonymous bad guy sending threatening messages to the hapless hero, necessitating the closed setting of the restaurant and adding the urgency and ominous tone of the villain being in the same room as Violet. Plus the view of the skyline at night is just pretty.
As I stated before, when Drop isn’t shattering its immersion with slow-motion kissing, it’s a competent thriller that keeps you invested in the moment to moment evolution of its story. The pacing in between messages to Violet keeps you anticipating more without being excessive or infrequent, right in the Goldilocks zone. Each threat, reveal, punishment and twist of the knife keeps the stakes high for Violet which in turn makes it seem like every second matters.
The acting really helps sell the concept and the two worlds that are going on at the same time: the awkward first date and the life-or-death game of extortion. Fahy is wearing multiple hats as the lead and she does it so well, balancing between the traumatized victim of abuse, the hopeful and charming young woman looking to live her life again, the mother who would do anything to protect her child, the intelligent fighter always looking for a way to win. She’s electric on the screen and it’s very easy to root for her. Sklenar is a skillful foil to her, playing Henry as patient, calm, understanding, easygoing and absolutely someone you’d want to go on a date with. His reassuring energy that fluctuates from concerned to excited to disappointed depending on Violet’s behavior is understandable and relatable, and at times I just wished the pair could have gone on a nice date together.
But it’s not just the leads who chew up the scenery. The supporting cast of restaurant-goers and staff also really help to immerse you into the story. For example, Gabrielle Ryan exudes a tough yet disarming charisma as the bartender Cara and Reed Diamond is an adorably sympathetic fish out of water as Richard, a hapless older gentleman set up on a blind date. The real standout of the supporting cast though is Jeffrey Self as Matt, an improv actor working his very first shift as a waiter that happens to be assigned to Violet and Henry’s table. His cringeworthy attempts to crack jokes and promote his acting career coupled with his sass and honest efforts to serve the couple as best he can, feel incredibly authentic and reminded me of several waiters I have had in real life that similarly tried too hard. As the comic relief character, he’s an effective juxtaposition to the anguish and panic that Violet is experiencing as she tries to put on a brave face. Together, the supporting cast reminds us that outside of Violet, no one else really knows about the sinister plot going on, and ensures that the restaurant feels authentic and lively.
If you’ve ever been hacked or extorted by some nameless, faceless entity on the other side of a screen, then you might understand how well Drop gives a taste of what it’s like to be held digitally hostage, along with the catharsis of being able to resist and fight back in ways that I couldn’t in real life. Though far from perfect with its serviceable yet patchy plot, the film is bolstered by its mostly stellar pacing and strong individual performances that compliment each other in service of bringing its story to life.
Just don’t accept any random AirDrop requests.
Rating: 7.5/10