Film
‘Don’t Move’ Review: Contrived Netflix Thriller Sets a Daunting Acting Challenge for Kelsey Asbille
A Twisted Concept: What If a Serial Killer “Saved” His Victim?
Imagine a scenario crafted purely for horror fans: a deeply troubled young woman, played by Kelsey Asbille, reaches the edge of a cliff, ready to end her life. At this pivotal, tragic moment, a serial killer (Finn Whitrock) appears—not to save her, but to halt her plans, coax her down, and kidnap her. He has a far more horrifying fate in mind, something worse than what she’d chosen. This disturbing twist brings up a morbid question: Does his act still count as murder? Since she intended to end her life, does his intervention muddy the ethical waters? The Netflix horror thriller Don’t Move kicks off with this eerie, hypothetical scenario, pulling viewers immediately into its unsettling world.
From its opening moments, ‘Don’t Move’ wastes no time piling on the suspense. After her narrow escape from the cliff’s edge, the woman regains consciousness. As she struggles to understand her circumstances, he makes a chilling revelation: he has injected her with a “special sedative” that will begin to take effect soon. This isn’t just any sedative, though. Within minutes, she’ll start to lose control of her body, and within 20 minutes, she will be utterly paralyzed.
As the sedative begins to take hold, the terror deepens. What would you do if you were her? With only minutes left, she faces the grim reality of her helplessness, knowing she must act quickly if she wants to escape this sadistic trap. This countdown adds a layer of psychological horror to the movie, forcing viewers to imagine themselves in her shoes. Could she manage a plan? What last-ditch actions could she take with her fading strength?
Pushing Boundaries
Don’t Move relies heavily on this controversial and thought provoking premise, appealing to fans of psychological horror who appreciate more than just gore. The idea isn’t just about physical survival; it delves into questions of morality. Is this killer guilty of murder if his victim had already chosen death? Does his twisted “rescue” make him a savior of sorts, or is he simply using her despair as an opportunity for his own sick plans?

Despite its unique concept, Don’t Move doesn’t stray far from the low budget horror formula. The Netflix thriller leans on minimalistic sets and straightforward dialogue to focus entirely on the tension between captor and captive. However, these elements may not entirely work in its favor, as the film’s modest production values occasionally detract from the suspense it tries to build. The thriller’s appeal lies mainly in its annoying storyline, which pokes complex questions about life, death, and control.
One of the film’s most unsettling elements is the way it integrates a sense of impending doom. The “special relaxant” and its 20 minute countdown serve as a ticking clock, amplifying the psychological pressure. This concept invites the viewer to feel the urgency of the situation along with the protagonist, drawing them into her worsening condition as she inches closer to total paralysis. With every passing second, her options shrink, creating a tangible sense of dread that’s impossible to ignore.
Exploring the Killer’s Mindset
As the story unfolds, we’re forced to grapple with the killer’s motivations. Did he stop her suicide out of a warped sense of heroism, or is he manipulating her suffering to suit his own morbid plans? By presenting him as both captor and twisted “savior,” the film challenges viewers to question his intentions. The character of the killer raises emotional questions, making the audience wonder if he sees himself as a liberator or simply a master of control.
One of the film’s most disturbing elements is its courageous look at moral ambiguity. If a victim has willingly chosen death, does preventing that choice, even if for a darker purpose, count as murder? This troubling notion forces viewers to confront their own views on life and death, making the film more than just a horror story—it’s a contemplation on ethical gray areas. These unsettling questions linger, adding depth to an otherwise simple thriller.
Don’t Move takes a disturbing yet thought provoking concept and stretches it to its limits. Through its low budget style and twisted premise, the film raises psychological and moral questions that will haunt viewers long after the credits roll. The uncomfortable scenario pushes the boundaries of traditional horror, using its flawed characters to explore the thin line between survival and death. While Don’t Move may not achieve classic status in horror cinema, it certainly delivers a suspenseful experience filled with moral tension and dark intrigue.
Watching a Woman Rediscover Her Will to Live
At its core, Don’t Move is meant to highlight an unusual journey—watching Iris, a young woman on the brink of ending her life, rediscover her will to survive. Just as she’s about to end it all, she finds herself in a life challenging situation, one where she has to summon strength she thought was gone. This unique theory raises a powerful question about the human spirit: Can someone who’s given up on life find it within themselves to fight for survival when all odds are against them?
However, the portrayal of Iris’ struggle feels less like a gripping story and more like a formulaic setup. The events that follow, while occasionally suspenseful, seem to reduce her situation to a series of planned obstacles. For those who grapple with self harm or mental health issues, this representation might feel detached, almost insulting in its oversimplified take on complex, real world struggles. Yet, even with these flaws, Don’t Move maintains a certain draw. The film’s gritty appeal and Iris’ determination to overcome her physical limitations keep viewers engaged, even if the setup feels contrived at times.
One way to view Don’t Move is as an experimental project from up and coming filmmakers working with limited resources and big ambitions. Produced by a group of young creators, including a notable name—Ted Sarandos’ daughter—the film feels like a chance to explore horror through simple settings and tense moments. Although the final product may not be groundbreaking, the story manages to hold its own through suspense and a few cleverly executed surprises. Rather than treating it as a fully polished work, audiences may find it more enjoyable as a creative exercise in suspense filmmaking by fresh talent.
Names in Horror Join the Production
Though directed by Adam Schindler and Brian Netto, Don’t Move also features the influence of a recognizable figure in horror: Sam Raimi. Known for his knack for horror and unique visual storytelling, Raimi’s presence adds intrigue to the production. Schindler and Netto, who previously directed the Minnesota segment of Raimi’s 50 States of Fright series for Quibi, bring their talents to this new project, building on their experience with eerie, isolated settings. While the film might not have a high production value, Raimi’s influence is evident in its atmospheric locations and creative tension.
Set in remote woodlands and along desolate dirt roads, Don’t Move carries the distinctive atmosphere of a film shaped by pandemic constraints. The small cast and minimal set pieces make it clear that the movie was designed to be executed with a small crew, prioritizing limited locations that could be managed safely. The choice to set the film far from civilization also amplifies Iris’ sense of isolation and vulnerability, reinforcing the horror as she faces her captor alone in an unforgiving environment.
A unique challenge in Don’t Move lies in Kelsey Asbille’s role as Iris, a character who spends much of the film physically restricted. After her captor injects her with a sedative, she finds herself unable to move for extended periods, forcing Asbille to convey fear, frustration, and desperation without the use of her body. This constraint on her movement adds a distinctive layer to the film, as her expressions and voice take center stage to depict the horror of helplessness. Despite the limitations, Asbille’s portrayal brings out Iris’ struggle, inviting the audience to experience the vulnerability of immobilization alongside her.
Plot Contrivances and the Art of Suspense
While Don’t Move brings some thrilling moments, the film’s structure can feel overly calculated, as if each twist and obstacle were carefully mapped out rather than emerging organically. The planned feel of Iris’ ordeal diminishes some of the story’s believability, and certain scenes appear more focused on shocking the viewer than on developing genuine suspense. Yet, the film manages to capture attention, as the unrelenting tension and unpredictability keep audiences on edge, eager to see how Iris might defy her physical restraints.

Don’t Move might not boast high production values, but the film’s minimalistic approach to horror demonstrates a sincere effort to create tension without the need for elaborate effects. Instead, the story focuses on building suspense through silence, sparse dialogue, and the eerie stillness of the isolated forest setting. For fans of lowbudget horror, these strippeddown elements can make the film an intriguing watch, offering moments of suspense that reflect the raw creativity of new filmmakers exploring their craft.
In Don’t Move, the main character, portrayed by Kelsey Asbille—familiar to many as a Yellowstone star—delivers an intense performance through minimal movement. Confined to communicating with her eyes and the slightest twitch of her index finger, her portrayal creates an intense atmosphere of silent terror that pulls the audience right into her experience. Every blink and slight movement reflects her desperation, and even though her actions are limited, her fear is palpable, amplified by the circumstances of her captivity.
A Fleeting Rescue and a Desperate Signal
The story takes a surprising turn when Iris is momentarily saved by a reclusive hermit (played by Moray Treadwell) who shows her a glimmer of hope in the darkness. As she finds herself in the hermit’s makeshift shelter, her inability to speak doesn’t stop her from attempting to communicate.
Her only option is to blink, and with urgency, she manages to signal a silent “SOS,” hoping that her message will be understood. But before her hope can materialize, Whitrock’s character—named Richard in the credits but known by other names to different people—reappears. The scene drips with tension as Iris’ faint glimmer of hope is shattered, leaving her once again at the mercy of her captor. Throughout her ordeal, Iris is repeatedly overpowered by the manipulative presence of Richard, who ensures her every attempt to reach out for help is thwarted. In another intense encounter, a police officer (played by Daniel Francis) comes on the scene.
This moment presents yet another chance for her to be saved, yet her voice—still trapped in silence—is barely a whisper against the dominant force of her captor. The tension builds as Richard cunningly directs the officer’s attention away from Iris, underscoring his role as both physical and psychological jailer. In a story where movement and words are almost luxuries, Don’t Move turns every subtle gesture into an essential piece of the plot. For Iris, the only form of communication left is her ability to blink, a limited action that becomes her lifeline. Her blinking becomes more than a simple gesture—it’s a tool of resistance, a silent form of communication that she uses to signal distress.
Richard’s Dual Identity: Friend or Foe?
Adding to the complexity of Iris’s situation is the enigmatic nature of her captor, known as Richard, yet rarely presenting himself under the same name. His character is unsettlingly fluid, with a personality that shifts depending on who he’s interacting with. This duality makes him unpredictable, adding another layer of horror as his true motives remain hidden. His ability to mask his intentions and manipulate those around him shows a level of cunning that keeps the audience guessing, never allowing them to settle into a sense of safety. With every scene, Richard’s shifting personas only serve to reinforce his control over Iris, making her plight feel even more isolating.
In Don’t Move, silence itself becomes a powerful weapon. Iris’s inability to speak or even move freely turns the very act of communication into an insurmountable challenge. Each of her interactions—whether with the hermit or the police officer—reflects the overwhelming power dynamics at play, as her silent pleas for help are consistently overpowered by Richard’s domineering presence. His ability to drown out her subtle attempts at communication illustrates a chilling imbalance, reinforcing his authority and Iris’s vulnerability.
The hermit’s appearance in Iris’s life feels like a brief respite, a rare moment where she glimpses the possibility of escape. His simple lifestyle and remote existence contrast sharply with the horror that surrounds Iris, offering her a chance at safety if only temporarily. But her hope is fragile, shattered the instant Richard reenters the scene. This fleeting encounter emphasizes the film’s tension, underscoring the relentless nature of her struggle and the faint line between safety and captivity. The hermit’s character adds a layer of contrast that heightens the impact of Richard’s return, making Iris’s situation feel all the more desperate.
A Police Encounter: Another Lost Opportunity
When Iris encounters a police officer, viewers might feel a brief surge of hope, but that hope is short lived. The officer, unaware of the terror unfolding, is manipulated by Richard’s convincing demeanor, easily swayed away from recognizing Iris’s distress. This encounter not only frustrates the audience but highlights the helplessness of her position. Despite her best efforts to convey her situation through silent signals, Richard’s control over the interaction eclipses any chance she might have had at rescue. This interaction exemplifies the tragic irony at the heart of Don’t Move, where every opportunity for escape is undercut by the manipulative strength of her captor.
For Iris, each blink, each slight movement is a fight against her limitations, an act of defiance in the face of helplessness. But in Don’t Move, her small acts of rebellion are met with overwhelming obstacles. The film forces the audience to grapple with the frustration of seeing her so close to help, only to be cut off by her own limitations and Richard’s control. These moments underscore the powerlessness that defines her journey, making her every effort to communicate feel monumental. Through her quiet struggle, the film paints a picture of silent survival, where every blink is a battle.
The film draws us deeply into Iris’s plight, making her struggles feel as immediate as if we were right there with her. This strong identification with Iris creates a suspense that’s almost tangible. Had Don’t Move been released in theaters, one can easily imagine audiences collectively gasping, whispering anxiously, or even shouting advice at the screen, wishing for Iris to take actions that she physically can’t. The title itself feels almost like a taunt—”Don’t Move”—since Iris is tragically immobilized and, if she could, would be running to safety.
Helpless Suspense: Waiting for the Right Moment to Strike
The film’s suspense is built around the helpless waiting game Iris is forced to play. With her body unresponsive, she can only hope her tormentor slips up, giving her a sliver of opportunity. Each second she lies still intensifies the dread, with the tension building as her strength slowly returns. This unique form of suspense diverges from conventional horror chases or high action sequences, making the audience experience the paralyzing frustration and fear Iris must feel, wholly dependent on someone else’s error or a small window of weakness to make her move.

Don’t Move brings to mind some of the most heart pounding scenes from classic thrillers, evoking the chilling atmosphere of Robert Zemeckis’ What Lies Beneath. In a memorable scene from that film, Michelle Pfeiffer’s character finds herself paralyzed in a bathtub that is slowly filling with water, watching in horror as her fate edges closer with every drop. This comparison highlights a significant difference, though; while Pfeiffer’s character faces a silent, steady dread, Don’t Move lacks that gradual, gripping escalation. Even its most intense scenes—like the one where Iris must attract her captor’s attention before she’s consumed by flames—don’t quite reach the same level of nail biting tension.
The film opens with Iris on the brink of ending her own life, a haunting reminder of the darkness she feels trapped within. But as her horrific ordeal unfolds, it raises a complex question: does surviving such a traumatic experience shift her perspective on life, potentially easing her suicidal thoughts? The sheer terror she experiences might rekindle her will to live or force her to confront the pain driving her to the edge. Yet, the psychological transformation isn’t explicitly explored, leaving viewers wondering if this intense brush with death serves as a kind of therapy for Iris.
A Psychological Twist
An alternative interpretation of Iris’s encounter with her captor, Richard, offers a more psychological angle—what if he isn’t real at all? Dealt in this way, Richard signifies less a physical danger, and instead is a reminder of Iris’s grief, guilt, or unresolved trauma. Her conflict with him may represent the demons of the past she has to deal with to make a new beginning, which is the necessary emotional chaos. This possible interpretation implies that, instead of vanquishing a real enemy, Iris is battling the sickness of her mind, a struggle that might be as horrifying as any physical danger.
One of the film’s gripping scenes is when Iris is caught up in a fire and cannot do anything about it. Unfortunately, this kind of scene is not only visually appealing but also contains some symbolism as Iris rouses the instinct to survive. For Iris, the flame is not only a physical danger; it is more about her inner turmoil and a visual representation of her battle to get control of her life back. The fire’s approach makes Iris face her will to live unflinchingly and at the same time, she has to fight against the flames. In this way, her attempts to get Richard’s attention are symbolic of a deeper issue that is going on within her, as she must use all her strength to survive.
Don’t Move offers an enthralling mix of psychological horror and suspense, wavering at times between reality and hallucination. If we see Richard as a projection of Iris’s trauma, the film then takes a different turn. Here, the idea of Richard as a representation of her inner conflict rather than a real threat is consistent with all her interactions with him.
An Unconventional Thriller
Don’t Move deviates from the horror norm by introducing existential themes. The narrative, however, examines the question of survival and the human instinct to resist in the face of despair, rather than the immediate physical dangers. The way Iris is depicted in the story is not just a fight for her safety; it is a struggle to find some meaning in life in the midst of all the sufferings. Besides the physical threat, the main character has to deal with the feelings of hopelessness and helplessness that take her to a journey of survival.
What will remain unanswered for the viewers of Don’t Move until the end is the true nature of Iris’s battle. Was the whole thing a literal fight between her and a sadistic captor or was it a symbolic representation of her struggle with the darkest parts of her psyche? The uncertainty encourages the audience to think about how trauma can affect one’s reality, turning internal conflicts into external threats. Iris is forced to face her past and maybe come out of it with a new sense of purpose regardless of that.
All in all, Don’t Move is a thrilling mix of elements of horror, psychological suspense, and existential themes that gives a different type of thriller that stays in the mind. Iris’s problems may be life threatening and hopeless, but it is also proof of the power of resistance. It is a portrayal of the quiet strength of a character who, no matter how many times she is knocked down, finds the will to keep going. This trip through the feelings of powerlessness and survival is more than a film, it is a challenge to the viewers to think about the importance of facing their inner fights, even when the real fear is inside.
