Drop review – a first date with no chemistry

Ever since smartphones became a part of everyday life filmmakers have struggled to make them feel cinematic – recently Robert Eggers joked he would never make a modern film simply because the idea of shooting a phone filled him with so much disgust. Christopher Landon, of Happy Death Day 2 U and Freaky fame, takes a different approach, embracing our always online reality as depicted in Jillian Jacobs’ and Chris Roach’s script for Drop. Surveillance camera footage is superimposed onto the walls of a toilet cubicle; the content of text messages flashes on-screen in bold letters. Our heroine Violet (Meghann Fahy) cannot escape the internet, just as she can’t escape the spectre of her abusive ex-husband, despite being physically free from his violent outbursts.

Despite the feeling of being watched, Violet conquers her anxiety enough to leave her young son Toby (Jacob Robinson) with her sister Jen (Violett Beane) for the evening so she can get back in the proverbial saddle and finally go on a first date with Henry (Brandon Sklenar). Unfortunately for Violet, when she arrives at upscale Chicago eatery ‘Palate’, she starts to receive increasingly menacing memes through the Bluetooth drop feature on her phone. It’s revealed that an unknown party is holding her son and sister hostage and will kill them unless Violet assassinates Henry.

Not keen on that idea, Violet attempts to get out of the situation without arousing the suspicion of her remarkably patient date, but her all-seeing enemy always seems one step ahead, mimicking the inescapable presence of her ex. A game of cat and mouse develops as Violet attempts to stall, ensure her family’s safety, and work out which of her fellow restaurant patrons is tormenting her. Fahy delivers a sympathetic enough turn as Violet, particularly alongside the charismatic Sklenar as Henry; the rest of the cast is rounded-out by exaggerated stereotypes, including a cringe-inducing overly-familiar waiter, a restaurant sleezy pianist and a seemingly harmless older gentleman. Exaggerated misdirections do nothing to prevent Drop‘s eventual reveal from feeling obvious and contrived, to the extent that even a svelte 90 minute runtime starts to feel like a stretch. Perhaps it’s the uncinematic reality of a smartphone-based thriller – more likely it’s a lack of ambition.

The uninspired nature of Drop speaks to a wider problem with Blumhouse, the horror power player who churn out low-budget flicks at an impressive rate (Drop is their third of a scheduled six releases this year) which usually receive middling reviews but rack up impressive box office returns. Quality often feels like an afterthought, and in Drop this feels most evident in the weak script and flat cinematography. There’s an interchangeable feeling to the recent Blumhouse slate which is perhaps part of their success: audiences show up for the films because they know what to expect. An intriguing premise; a few scares; some relatively inoffensive humour, and nothing too mentally taxing, if you’re prepared to switch your brain off and not dissect the ludicrous plot. It’s the cinematic equivalent of fast food – cheap, easy, uncontroversial, disposable and readily available. A couple of hours after digesting, you might forget you’ve eaten in the first place.