Netflix has unleashed a tidal wave of intrigue with The Woman in Cabin 10, a psychological thriller that’s stormed to the top of the platform’s global film charts since its splashy debut on October 10, 2025. Adapted from Ruth Ware’s bestselling novel, this 90-minute rollercoaster stars Keira Knightley as Lo, a journalist whose dream assignment on a luxurious superyacht turns into a waking nightmare when she witnesses a passenger plunge overboard—only to be told it never happened. With a stellar cast including Guy Pearce, Hannah Waddingham, and David Morrissey, and a production pedigree tied to heavyweights like Debra Hayward (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Atonement), the film promised to be a gripping dive into paranoia and deception. Yet, as the credits roll, viewers are split down the middle: some are hooked, calling it a “gripping” must-watch, while others lament a watered-down adaptation that fails to capture the book’s claustrophobic dread. With a measly 27% on Rotten Tomatoes and critics slamming its “soggy” drama, The Woman in Cabin 10 is the polarizing puzzle you’ll either love or leave adrift. Ready to board? Here’s why this thriller is making waves—for better or worse.

At its core, The Woman in Cabin 10 is a classic whodunit with a modern twist, set against the opulent yet oppressive backdrop of a superyacht gliding through icy waters. Knightley’s Lo is a journalist grappling with her own demons—insomnia, anxiety, and a shaky grip on reality—when she’s handed a golden ticket to cover the maiden voyage of the ultra-elite Aurora Borealis. The ship’s glitz, from champagne flutes to velvet-draped cabins, contrasts sharply with Lo’s unraveling psyche as she witnesses what she’s certain is a murder: a body hitting the waves in the dead of night. But when the crew, led by the charming yet enigmatic Bullmer (Guy Pearce), insists all passengers are accounted for, Lo’s quest for truth spirals into a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse. Is she an unreliable narrator spiraling into delusion, or is the yacht hiding a sinister secret? The premise is pure Agatha Christie, with a dash of Hitchcockian paranoia, but the execution has left audiences as divided as a ship split by an iceberg.
Knightley, no stranger to complex roles (Pride and Prejudice, Atonement), anchors the film with a performance that’s both fierce and fragile. Her Lo is a bundle of nerves, her wide-eyed intensity capturing the panic of a woman whose reality is being gaslit by everyone around her. Every creak of the yacht, every sidelong glance from a crew member, feels like a dagger to her sanity, and Knightley sells it with a conviction that keeps you tethered to her side, even when the plot wobbles. Critics have praised her effort, with one viewer noting, “Keira Knightley is fantastic in The Woman in Cabin 10—unfortunately, not much else is.” Her scenes with Pearce’s Bullmer, a billionaire with a smile too polished to trust, crackle with tension, while her interactions with Hannah Waddingham’s bubbly yet calculating Heidi offer moments of levity that cut through the fog of suspicion. Waddingham, fresh off Ted Lasso’s warmth, flips the script here, her charm masking something colder, making her a standout in a crowded ensemble.

That ensemble is a treasure trove of talent, each actor bringing their A-game to the yacht’s claustrophobic quarters. David Morrissey’s Thomas, a gruff security chief, looms like a storm cloud, his gravelly voice dripping with skepticism as he dismisses Lo’s claims. Daniel Ings, as the smarmy Adam, injects a dose of oily charisma that keeps you guessing—ally or adversary? David Ajala’s photographer Adam adds soulful depth, his quiet rapport with Lo offering rare moments of warmth amid the chill. The supporting cast is a who’s-who of heavy hitters: Art Malik as a cagey ship executive, Kaya Scodelario as the enigmatic Grace, Gugu Mbatha-Raw as a sharp-tongued socialite, and Paul Kaye as a twitchy crew member who seems to know more than he lets on. Lesser-known but equally compelling are Christopher Rygh, Lisa Loven Kongsli, Pippa Bennett-Warner, and Ayọ̀ Owóyẹmi-Peters, each adding texture to the yacht’s ecosystem of privilege and paranoia. Directed by Simon Stone, the visuals are a feast—crisp aerial shots of the Aurora slicing through moonlit waves, tight frames of Lo’s panic-stricken face reflected in mirrored corridors—but the pacing falters, rushing through key moments that needed room to breathe.
The film’s biggest anchor, or perhaps its albatross, is its adaptation from Ware’s novel, a page-turner lauded for its unreliable narrator and suffocating suspense. Fans of the book, expecting the same slow-burn dread, have been vocal about their disappointment. One viewer lamented, “The book didn’t translate well to a 90-minute film. Perhaps a limited series would’ve been better to build out the supporting characters.” Another echoed, “They smoothed out the book’s best parts—the main character’s genuine unreliability and the claustrophobic dread—in favor of a more generic thriller.” The novel’s strength lay in Lo’s spiraling doubt, her mental state a maze as treacherous as the yacht itself, but the film opts for a sleeker, more action-driven approach that sacrifices nuance for accessibility. The result is a plot that feels “too loose and a little ridiculous by the end,” as one critic put it, with twists that strain credulity rather than deepen the mystery. The Guardian’s two-star review called the drama “cardboard” and “soggy,” while The Independent dubbed it “Agatha Christie for people with limited attention spans.” Ouch.

Yet, not everyone’s ready to abandon ship. For every detractor, there’s a fan who found themselves hooked. “Just finished watching The Woman in Cabin 10—what a thriller!!! Hooked from start to finish,” raved one viewer on X. Another defended, “I have no idea why the reviews are largely negative. I read the book AND enjoyed the movie adaptation. It’s highly entertaining and Keira Knightley is fun to watch.” These fans point to the film’s strengths: its glossy production values, courtesy of producer Debra Hayward’s knack for prestige drama, and its ability to keep you guessing, even if the answers don’t always satisfy. The yacht itself is a character, its opulent interiors clashing with the stormy seas outside, creating a pressure-cooker atmosphere that mirrors Lo’s unraveling mind. And let’s not forget the score, a haunting blend of strings and synths that amplifies the tension, even when the script veers into melodrama.
The film’s 27% Rotten Tomatoes score is a brutal wake-up call, but it’s worth noting that audience reactions are far less unanimous. Where critics see a missed opportunity, many viewers see a fun, if flawed, escape. The Telegraph’s quip—“While it doesn’t totally capsize, this thing tries to play Cluedo on a boat with too many cards missing”—captures the sentiment: there’s enough here to keep you entertained, but don’t expect a masterpiece. The 90-minute runtime, a blessing for those craving a quick thrill, feels like a curse to book purists who wanted more time to marinate in Lo’s paranoia. A limited series, as some have suggested, might have given the ensemble room to shine and the mystery space to unravel organically, but as a standalone, it leans heavily on Knightley’s star power to keep it afloat.

So, why the divide? The Woman in Cabin 10 is a classic case of high expectations meeting mixed execution. Ware’s novel set a high bar with its layered protagonist and intricate plotting, but the film’s attempt to condense it into a popcorn-friendly package sacrifices depth for flash. Yet, for every viewer who found it “generic,” another calls it “amazing” and “gripping,” proof that entertainment is subjective. If you’re in the mood for a slick, star-studded thriller with enough twists to keep you glued to your couch, this might be your weekend binge. If you’re a diehard fan of the book, brace for some disappointment—but Knightley’s performance alone might be worth the ticket.
Available now on Netflix, The Woman in Cabin 10 is the kind of film that sparks debates over wine and rewatches. Dive in, decide for yourself, and let the stormy seas of this thriller carry you away—or leave you stranded. Either way, you won’t look at a superyacht the same again.