Christopher Landon has carved out his own little corner of horror, one that blends high-concept thrills with whip-smart humor and heartfelt characters. From Happy Death Day to Freaky, his films have walked a fine line between the grotesque and the gleeful, carving out catharsis in the chaos. His latest, Drop, doesn’t quite reach the inventive highs of those past works, but it’s still a gripping and cleverly modern tech thriller anchored by a terrific lead performance and that same signature Landon flair.
Drop opens with a setup that feels relatable in an unnerving way. Violet (a wonderfully jittery and empathetic Meghann Fahy) is finally dipping her toe back into the dating pool after surviving a deeply traumatic, abusive relationship. She’s a therapist now - someone who not only lives with her own scars but helps others carry theirs - and tonight marks her first real date in years. She’s meeting Henry (Brandon Sklenar), a charming and affable man she’s been chatting with online, at a sleek, upscale restaurant. Her sister Jen (Violett Beane, a true scene-stealer who brings a bolt of energy in her brief time onscreen) has come over to babysit her young son, Toby (Jacob Robinson).
Landon, with a screenplay from Jillian Jacobs and Chris Roach, lays the groundwork well: we see a woman trying to reclaim normalcy, trying to feel safe again. And we see just how quickly that can be taken away, launching her into a morbidly familiar fight-or-flight mode.
The horror begins with something as innocuous as a message on her phone. Not a text, not a call - just an anonymous file sent via the film’s fictionalized version of AirDrop, called “DigiDrop.” It’s a modern touch that feels disturbingly plausible, especially as Violet keeps receiving more of them. At first, it’s easy to assume the culprit is her abusive ex, Blake. He’s the obvious red herring, present in Violet’s story but never shown outside of a pair of heart-pounding flashbacks, the looming specter of a trauma she’s still trying to heal from. But Drop wisely isn’t that simple.
What unfolds is a real-time descent into digital paranoia. The restaurant setting is a fantastic stage for Landon and his team to play in - real, tactile, with great production design that gives everything a believable upscale sheen. Violet makes a brief but meaningful connection with the bartender (Gabrielle Ryan) while waiting for Henry to arrive, and there’s a fun parade of potential suspects among the guests and staff. These colorful characters, including Matt (Jeffery Self), the over-eager improv actor turned server on his first shift, inject energy and misdirection into the narrative, keeping us guessing who’s just quirky and who’s part of something more sinister.
Landon and cinematographer Marc Spicer (Furious 7, Escape Room, Lights Out) make strong use of the space. There’s a real confidence in the long takes that glide through different sections of the restaurant, building a sense of geography while quietly tightening the noose. Incomparable composer Bear McCreary delivers a dramatic score that pulses underneath it all, keeping the momentum tight and the tension sharp, adding extra unease to scenes where Violet’s trying desperately to maintain her composure.
It’s not long before the drops escalate into something terrifying: a masked intruder in her home, seen via her security system’s live feed. Violet is suddenly forced into compliance by a mysterious, unseen controller who can seemingly see and hear everything she does. And she has to obey - all while pretending everything is fine, so as not to endanger Toby or arouse Henry’s suspicion.
Landon injects visual flair into this segment, using stylized, theatrical lighting, sharp camera moves, and playful graphics that flash across the screen with each new “digidrop.” It’s slick without being overbearing, and helps convey just how overwhelming and violating this kind of harassment can be. The movie taps into something deeply modern - the way we live in a hyper-connected world that can be turned against us in an instant.
Violet’s arc is especially compelling. She’s not a clueless victim; she’s sharp, quick-thinking, and desperate, operating at a high frequency that reflects both her inner panic and her need to stay in control. Her maternal instincts are just as strong as her survival ones. There’s a real empathy in how Fahy (The White Lotus) presents her - this is a woman who’s already fought her way out of hell once, and now she’s being dragged back in, digitally and psychologically.
And yes, there’s a moment involving Pinkfong’s Baby Shark that’s as unexpectedly hilarious as it is poignant for any parent. Landon’s humor is still present, even in a story this tense. It’s just more restrained, more situational than some of his zanier past work. Matt, the server, provides some solid comic relief, and Jen’s brief screentime gives the film a jolt of the kind of chaotic fun that it could’ve used a bit more of overall.
Where Drop stumbles is in its third act. Once the truth is revealed and Violet is pushed into action mode, the film shifts from high-budget B-movie techno-horror to more familiar thriller territory. The climax is kinetic and well-executed, but it doesn’t feel as unique or tightly woven as the rest. Some of the final reveals don’t quite land with the punch they should, and the film loses some of the personal stakes that made it so compelling in the first place.
Still, it’s a ride worth taking. Even with a somewhat underwhelming finish, Drop remains a solid entry in Landon’s growing body of work. It’s a film about survival, about the way trauma lingers in our bodies and in our technology. About how hard it can be to feel safe, even in the most public of spaces. And how far a mother will go to protect her child, even if it means obeying the whims of a faceless stranger sending digital threats.
While not as tonally sharp or seamless as Happy Death Day or Freaky, Drop shows that Landon is still evolving, still experimenting, still finding ways to mine real human fears through genre. It’s tense, well-performed, and darkly fun - even if it doesn’t completely stick the landing.
'Drop' is now playing in theaters.
