What Drop lacks in highly unique personality it makes up for in well-made popcorn thriller storytelling. It has more than enough interesting twists and turns to keep anyone engaged, even if the very final product has some cheesiness to it. Meghann Fahy plays Violet, a widow in her thirties going on a first date — her first date with anyone in a long while. She and her date Henry (Brandon Sklenar) are frazzled by a series of menacing memes airdropped to Violet’s phone, but, out of fear of the unknown villain’s possible retaliation against her son, Violet hides the other half of the threat from Henry. Someone is in her house threatening her son Toby (Jacob Robinson) and her sister Jen (Violett Beane), a tense development she’s monitoring from her home security cameras.
With every “drop,” more and more questions are raised. Violet’s suspicions glom onto almost everyone in the upscale high-rise restaurant. There doesn’t seem to be much of a reason for the anonymous threats, that is until our unknown assailant threatens to kill Toby if Violet doesn’t poison one of Henry’s drinks. Director Christopher Landon, editor Ben Baudhuin, and cinematographer Marc Spicer move things along at a spritely pace while not revealing the villain or their full motivation until exactly the right moment. Even more impactful, Violet makes a plethora of smart decisions when thwarted by the villain’s specific instructions. She’s a survivor of domestic abuse, — we see this in the film’s cold open — and it’s refreshing to see her not portrayed exclusively as a “damsel in distress.”
Even outside of these plot elements, there are plenty of things that could have gone wrong with Drop that simply go right. Spicer’s camera matches the pristine, controlled environment that is the restaurant, until it’s the perfect time for things to look more frazzled and frantic. We switch from over-the-shoulder, shot/reverse shot conversational techniques to nearly fullscreen closeups when the date goes as awry as any dinner date could possibly go. The filmmakers also make full use of their restaurant set, returning to different corners of the semicircular room until we feel like we know its layout like the back of our hand. Landon and his team also make the interesting choice to put each of the villain’s threatening text messages in huge fonts which fill most of the screen, often behind Violet’s head. It’s a bit jarring at first, but I don’t know that you could tell this story with the same propulsive flare if both she and the audience had to look down at her phone every three minutes. Everything is kinetic here.
Again, is Drop a perfect movie? No. Violet’s relationship with her sister is a bit underdeveloped for where writers Jillian Jacobs and Christopher Roach want it to go. When the film goes comic, it often feels like the script needed a comedic second pass. The final twist is perhaps not as well-developed as one might want. However, in the cases of both the comedy and the plotting, Drop has two pillars supporting those respective areas: the hilarious performance of Jeffrey Self as Matt, Violet and Henry’s quirky waiter, and the way everything actually makes sense as laid out before us. Perhaps some will be slightly unsatisfied by a slightly undercooked meal here, but no one will be left scratching their heads wondering what exactly happened. That’s actually refreshing for a thriller at this level of cheese. Ultimately, Drop doesn’t feel like a main course, but it’s surely a delicious appetizer. | George Napper
