The Woman in Cabin 10 Review – Keira Knightley and Guy Pearce Bring Glamour (and Trouble) Aboard in Netflix’s Polished Yet Predictable Murder Mystery

If you’ve ever longed for the days when murder mysteries were drenched in luxury, gossip, and sly humor — think Death on the Nile at its most deliciously camp — Netflix’s The Woman in Cabin 10 might leave you feeling slightly seasick with disappointment. Directed by Simon Stone, this sleek, modern adaptation of Ruth Ware’s bestselling novel trades playfulness for polish, offering a serviceable but ultimately safe take on the classic “body overboard” whodunit.

Stone, who previously helmed The Dig, co-writes here with Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse, assembling an impressive ensemble led by Keira Knightley and Guy Pearce. The production looks expensive, the yacht gleams, and everyone wears the kind of neutral-toned luxury resort wear that screams “money with anxiety.” Yet for all its sheen, the film sails straight down the middle — rarely thrilling, seldom funny, and only occasionally suspenseful.

The Bottom Line:

A watchable but overly restrained mystery adrift in expensive waters.

Release Date: October 10 (Netflix)
Cast: Keira Knightley, Guy Pearce, David Ajala, Art Malik, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Kaya Scodelario, David Morrissey, Hannah Waddingham, Paul Kaye, Daniel Ings, Amanda Collin, Gitte Witt
Director: Simon Stone
Runtime: 1 hour 32 minutes
Rated: R

A Journalist Adrift

Knightley plays Laura “Lo” Blackwood, a London investigative journalist whose nerves are still raw after witnessing a violent crime linked to one of her exposés. When her editor (Gugu Mbatha-Raw, criminally underused) offers her a luxury assignment — covering the inaugural voyage of a billionaire’s private cruise ship, the Aurora Borealis — Lo reluctantly accepts, hoping that a few days among the rich and powerful might restore her sense of purpose.

The ship belongs to Richard Bullmer (Guy Pearce), a charming businessman married to Anne Lyngstad (Lisa Loven Kongsli), a Norwegian shipping heiress battling terminal cancer. The cruise is part business trip, part farewell party: a high-society fundraiser meant to launch a foundation in Anne’s name before her health fails completely.

For Lo, this should be an easy job — drink champagne, take notes, file copy — but the mood on board is oddly tense from the start. Her photographer colleague Ben Morgan (David Ajala), with whom she shares an awkward romantic past, is also aboard, assigned to the cabin opposite hers. Their forced proximity adds emotional friction to a voyage already thick with secrets.

All Aboard the Beautiful People

The film’s early scenes introduce a gallery of wealthy eccentrics straight from the Agatha Christie playbook: a self-important art dealer (Hannah Waddingham) and her condescending husband (David Morrissey); a faded rock star (Paul Kaye, wonderfully scruffy and unhinged); a tech mogul (Christopher Rygh) and his influencer girlfriend-for-hire (Kaya Scodelario); and the family’s loyal physician (Art Malik), who knows more than he lets on.

Stone and his co-writers hint at satire — the casual cruelty of the ultra-rich, the awkward class tension when Lo shows up to dinner in jeans — but these moments quickly vanish in favor of sober, straightforward storytelling. The film rarely indulges in the genre’s potential for irony or dark humor, which makes the tone more Nordic noir than Knives Out.

Things take a turn when Anne privately summons Lo to her suite. Pale but lucid, Anne expresses admiration for Lo’s work exposing corruption and injustice, confessing that she personally requested the journalist’s presence on the trip. She then reveals her plan to leave her vast fortune to charity — a decision she says her husband fully supports. But her nervous, distracted demeanor suggests otherwise.

By the time the champagne glasses are cleared, we know something sinister is brewing beneath the yacht’s smooth surface.

A Splash in the Night

Later that evening, Lo hears a violent struggle in the cabin next to hers — followed by a splash and a glimpse of what appears to be a body in the water. She spots a bloody handprint on the partition but, when she alerts security, she’s told that the cabin is unoccupied and that all passengers are accounted for. Her protests are dismissed as hysteria or stress-induced delusion.

From here, The Woman in Cabin 10 follows the familiar beats of a gaslight thriller: the woman who knows what she saw, the men who assure her she’s imagining things, and the uneasy sense that wealth can buy not only silence but also disappearance. Knightley carries these sequences with fierce conviction, playing Lo as both brittle and brave. Her performance is the film’s emotional anchor, full of nervous energy and sharp intelligence.

Yet the mystery unfolds in predictable fashion. The film teases multiple suspects but never fully leans into the fun of misdirection. Instead, it maintains a cool, almost detached rhythm until the final act, when the truth comes out in a rush of revelations that feel both rushed and strangely underwhelming.

Supporting Players and Style

Among the ensemble, Witt’s mysterious woman — the supposed occupant of Cabin 10 — and Amanda Collin as the ship’s quietly intimidating head of security provide some spark in the later scenes. Pearce, meanwhile, lends Richard Bullmer a seductive ambiguity, his suave exterior slowly giving way to menace. But many of the supporting characters — especially the wealthy guests — remain thin sketches rather than full personalities.

Visually, the film is impeccable but cold. Cinematographer Andrew Commis (working again with Stone) bathes everything in metallic blues and silvers, mirroring the sea and the emotional chill of its inhabitants. The Aurora Borealis is designed to impress — a floating palace of glass, chrome, and soft lighting — yet the camera seldom lingers on its decadence. For a story set among billionaires, there’s surprisingly little sensual pleasure in the setting; everything looks curated rather than lived in.

A Mystery That Plays It Too Safe

The biggest issue with The Woman in Cabin 10 isn’t its cast or its craftsmanship — it’s the lack of personality. Where Kenneth Branagh’s Death on the Nile reveled in excess and flair, Stone’s film feels restrained to the point of sterility. It’s a thriller without a pulse: polished, professional, but rarely gripping.

Still, there are pleasures to be found. Knightley’s nuanced performance elevates the material, balancing Lo’s trauma and determination with quiet dignity. Pearce is reliably compelling, and the final act — staged amid Norway’s icy fjords — delivers some genuine tension. Yet the story never shakes the sense of déjà vu. We’ve been on this cruise before, and we’ve seen better parties.

For viewers looking for an elegant, low-stakes mystery to half-watch on a Friday night, The Woman in Cabin 10 will do the job nicely. It’s smooth, competently made, and occasionally gripping — but never bold enough to leave a lasting impression.

Keira Knightley gives the film its heart, and Simon Stone supplies the atmosphere, but the end result feels more like a calm sea than a storm. There’s intrigue, yes, but little danger — and in a story about murder among the ultra-rich, that’s the one thing we can’t afford to lose.