I imagine if director Christopher Landon were to receive instructions like those given in the Mission: Impossible TV series and movies, it’d go something like this: “Your mission, Christopher, should you choose to accept it, is to read the Drop script by Jillian Jacobs and Chris Roach; assemble a cast and crew capable of the high-wire act depicted therein; wring all possible tension out of every setup and execution; and finally, unleash Drop on an audience and show no mercy.”
You know what? Consider the finished film “Mission: Accomplished.”
This white-knuckler of a surprise is one of the best suspense films of the modern era, cleverly using the need for technology and love for one’s family against a helpless individual who has done nothing but dare to be happy. Jacobs and Roach have crafted an airtight conundrum which Violet (Meghann Fahy) cannot solve, and Landon’s flawless helming – aided well by Ben Baudhin’s ruthless editing and Bear McCreary’s nerve-wracking score – jams us straight into this nerve-wracking hostage crisis without a moment to catch our breath. Throw in a brilliant performance by Fahy, whose character has been given the task of keeping several plates spinning while trying to keep people alive, and you’ve got an explosive 95 minutes in which the world falls away and you’re left holding on for dear life.
The plot is simple: A woman is forced against her will to kill the man she’s seeing on a first date. Sounds easy, right? Absolutely not. Jacobs and Roach concoct an airtight scheme in which Violet is cornered in a 38th-story Chicago restaurant, receiving strange, anonymous communications through the “DigiDrop” app (similar to Apple’s AirDrop) that allows anyone to send her pictures and messages. However, on her date with Henry (Brandon Sklenar), the pictures she receives grow slowly more menacing, and the messages let her know in no uncertain terms that she is not to deviate from any instruction. She cannot call for help, let anyone know what’s going on, or delay any action she needs to take. Worst of all is the fact that she’s been ordered to kill Henry – a sweet, understanding photographer whom Violet met on a dating app.
Drop wastes absolutely no time establishing the trauma which Violet has endured, horrifying us immediately after the opening credits (which bring to mind the fantastic opening credits of Final Destination 5) with a violent look at the abuse and torture she endured at the hands of her husband. Following this prologue, the film cuts to black with a voice saying, “Let’s go back a few seconds.” Don’t let this confuse you, as it did me; this is a truly visceral event that made me think Drop was one of those movies that started with a sampling of its final scenes. That’s how intense this darkly lit, terrifying moment is.
The film softens for a minute while we regain our bearings with Violet’s present-day life as an abuse survivor counselor and widowed mother to Toby (Jacob Richardson). Her spacious home and well-lit surroundings are a shock of a contrast from the preceding sequence, full of hope and love, showing her coaching her client through a momentary relapse of self-doubt and playing swords with Toby as her younger sister Jen (Violett Beane) arrives to babysit (and dole out fashion advice) before Violet goes out. These two scenes are but a taste of the range Fahy has to call upon, daily living as a woman rising above her damage, one trepidatious step at a time.
The rest of the movie forces Fahy to swing wildly through unthinkable emotions, and she handles it with seemingly effortless believability. Landon asks the world of her in this performance, and she gives nothing less back as she grasps us in her terror at each twist and turn. A rollercoaster ride, this ain’t; this is sheer malice being heaved upon Violet, and Fahy doesn’t waste a precious second of her screen time in sharing the distress in Violet’s very being. This dinner date is perched upon a deathly sharp knife edge, and it takes every bit of her strength not to be cut in half.
Drop uses the cycle of abuse and its effects as its true weapon. We see that Violet finds it difficult to trust anyone, from a random electrician to Henry himself; as the story is told from her point of view, every person who crosses her path is an unknown quantity that could be a potential danger. Landon and cinematographer Marc Spicer cement this by using spatial relations and isolating close-ups (at times enhanced by Broadway-style overhead lighting) to further illustrate how Violet sees the world and those near her. Take note of how body positioning and camera angles change between Violet and Henry as their dinner progresses, culminating in each person finally centered in the frame dead-on, as if we’ve drilled down to each person’s core in one last attempt to get to the truth, both of each other and the situation at hand.
Alfred Hitchcock would be proud of this psychological thriller that owes so much to him. The random interlopers who may or may not pose a threat to Violet; the single location that seems so open, yet is an utterly claustrophobic trap; a mother’s love being used against her; consequences so dementedly exacted upon transgressors; our hero’s increasingly impossible struggle to gain the upper hand against her captors; and the reveal of the conspiracy and whom it involves – these and more are the ingredients Jillian Jacobs and Chris Roach have layered into this methodically vicious powerhouse. With the assured filmmaking talents of Christopher Landon guiding a cast and crew so committed to exceeding expectations, Drop is destined to be considered a masterstroke of suspense filmmaking.
