Unlike the ingenuity of last week’s thriller about a man preying on women, this week’s new film about a man preying on women gets caught in its own devices. “Don’t Move” is a new suspense flick hitting Netflix this weekend. As studios scramble to release anything resembling a horror film to cash in on Halloween, distributors drop many of these films without a whimper of publicity. The pitch for “Don’t Move” is catchy: a woman paralyzed by a drug that shuts down her motor skills and yet she must escape from a psychopath. A somewhat novel idea, but the script can’t provide enough foundation for this film to actually get moving.
Standing on a rock cliff inside a California state part, ready to take her own life, Iris (Kelsey Asbille) is interrupted by Richard (Finn Whittrock). His assertiveness and demeanor might have made anyone complete that jump, but Iris takes the bait and converses with this handsome stranger. It’s only back at the secluded parking lot that she realizes she is prey. Richard injects Iris with a substance that, over the course of 20 minutes, will paralyze her, starting with fingers, motor skills, and eventually speech. She refuses to make it easy for Richard, running into the woods before the effects occur. “Hope you found a good hiding place,” he says as their unusual game of cat and mouse begins.
"Don't Move is strongest when the viewer is invited to contemplate what they would do in the situation of, say, being in a river, unable to move..."
Even before the title credits, before Whittrock appears on screen, continuity errors already begin to plague the movie’s first few minutes. The filmmakers are trying to splice impressive arial and over-the-shoulder shots to reveal what a dramatic drop the fall could be. Yet every time we resume the main shot, Asbille is inches to feet from the edge. We could overlook these minor technical details if the script matched the creativity of the premise. “Don’t Move” is strongest when the viewer is invited to contemplate what they would do in the situation of, say, being in a river, unable to move, or lying on the ground with a lawn mower inching towards their head when Whittrock must carry scenes because Asbille is incapacitated, verbal script diarrhea tanks the earned suspense.
This pocket thriller is equal parts ridiculous and engaging. It’s almost as if Netflix and Lifetime have joined forces to make every young woman afraid to hike alone. A few scenes lean into violence, but for the most part, “Don’t Move” is tame stuff. The two gore scenes break the monotony of Asbille’s endless close-ups, communicating with only her eyes. The script’s other wild card is the suicidal element. It’s addressed in the third act why he would save this woman from jumping when he planned to kill her anyway. You will have to see the film to get the answer to that question.
Final Thought
"Don't Move" is like a scab you can't stop picking, but know you should leave alone.