Keira Knightley stars in The Woman in Cabin 10, not to be confused with Emily Blunt in The Girl on the Train, Amy Adams in The Woman in the Window, Danielle Deadwyler in The Woman in the Yard, or Kristen Bell in The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window. It might be a worrying sign that studios are still producing entries into this female-driven modern Rear Window subgenre, even after it has reached the point of self-parody. The Woman in Cabin 10 isn't here to be a change of pace, or even to be the sharpest knife in the drawer. That would require it to be positively memorable, which it most certainly isn't.

Apart from the occasional statements of red, much of this whodunnit mystery is enveloped in a sea of sleek grey. It's meant to represent the cold indifference that has permeated the modern world, of which investigative reporter Laura Blacklock (Knightley) knows all too well. Her latest piece about Kurdish female freedom fighters caused her source to be drowned in retaliation, and her uncovering of a misappropriation of funds at a well-known NGO didn't make a dent in the headlines. An opportunity for a change of pace comes her way in the form of an invitation to attend the sailing of billionaire Richard Bullmer's (Guy Pearce) mega yacht in remembrance of his wife Anne, who is nearing the end of her terminal cancer diagnosis. The journey will be attended by a group of wealthy elites, and end with a gala celebration where everyone will make exorbitant pledges to Anne's foundation. It's charity filtered through the biggest egos on the planet.

This scenario means that The Woman in Cabin 10 is another movie where the normal main character arrives at a swanky destination under routine pretenses, only to learn that not everything is what it seems. You've probably seen this trope played out multiple times before over the last few years in stuff like Opus, Shell, Blink Twice, The Menu, etc. This movie even has a similar scene where Laura must swap out her shoes to comply with the dress code, and is notified that cell phone services are restricted while on board. This takes place in the third scene, and, if you've seen any of the films already mentioned in this review, you can very accurately guess where the rest of this story is going to go.

The ensemble of guests is rich assholes, although they're all extremely generic and uninteresting. Hannah Waddingham is an art dealer, Daniel Ings is an alpha bro, Kaya Scodelario is his fake influencer girlfriend, and Paul Kaye is a vague drug-addled rockstar. Honestly, it doesn't matter, as their entire personalities are devoted to shaming Laura for ruining their weekend when she claims to have witnessed the woman in Cabin 10 being thrown overboard. However, the ship's captain insists that the room was never occupied, and no one else on board has been reported missing. Laura knows what she saw, and only has a few days to prove it before these people disembark and return to their consequence-free empires.

"Tell the truth" is a phrase repeatedly used, with writers Simon Stone, Joe Shrapnel, and Anna Waterhouse rallying the everyman against the elites who believe that their wealth and power place them above the law. It's a mission statement inundated with modern culture (I'll spare you from another list of movies that have already done this), almost as if it's become gauche for a movie to simply be a piece of entertainment. The Woman in Cabin 10 is too shallow and ludicrous to be taken seriously, and too dull to have fun with. The less said about the ending, the better, in which the film thinks that all wrongs have been righted (hint: they most certainly haven't).

The boat at least looks pretty, giving me another small nudge to finally book that Scandinavian cruise I've always wanted to go on. And Knightley is a very capable lead, effortlessly making the material seem much more elevated than it really is. Her presence has been sorely missed on the silver screen, with only two other films - Boston Strangler and Silent Night - to her name in the last five years. Someone needs to come along with a script worthy of her talents, because we're currently letting one of our best actors languish in mediocrity.