I recently had the chance to watch the new trending movie on Netflix, and it reminded me why I’m not really a fan of this streaming platform. I’m talking about The Whisper Man, a psychological mystery thriller based on Alex North’s 2019 bestselling novel of the same name, which became immensely popular and naturally paved the way for a feature film adaptation.
As I've mentioned in previous posts, I always have my reservations when it comes to Netflix content. I firmly believe that their rush to churn out so much material ends up ruining what could otherwise be fantastic stories. Right off the bat, The Whisper Man is no exception—they essentially created a functional, fast-consumption crime thriller that starts off decently, but loses its charm as the story moves along due to several key factors.
The premise follows writer Tom Kennedy (Adam Scott) who, after the tragic loss of his wife, decides to move with his young son Jake (Acston Luca Porto) to his late wife's hometown. He's looking for a fresh start while trying to maintain an emotional connection to her memory. The nightmare begins when the boy is kidnapped using the exact same modus operandi of a serial killer captured decades ago. Desperate to find his son, Tom is forced to turn to his estranged father for help—retired detective Pete Willis (Robert De Niro), the man who locked away the original killer at the cost of losing his own family. Joining the search is Detective Inspector Amanda Beck (Michelle Monaghan), who leads the race-against-the-clock investigation.
When you read a premise like this, and you're a fan of psychological crime thrillers and police procedurals like I am, it immediately hooks you and sounds promising. It’s a familiar formula in cinema, so you enter expecting something recognizable, but for it to actually work, it hinges on execution. One major element is the acting, and here it’s definitely a mixed bag. Adam Scott delivers a solid performance as the desperate father grieving his wife's death.
On the flip side, Robert De Niro as the veteran detective comes off completely indifferent, almost like he's on autopilot. He brings zero weight to the role—honestly, anyone could have played that part, which is a real shame. Michelle Monaghan is fine in the standard procedural cop role, nothing to write home about. On the other hand, Michael Keaton (playing Frank Carter, the original killer) steals every scene despite his limited screen time; it feels like he’s the only one actually having fun on set.
With a cast like this, you’d expect powerhouse performances that elevate the material no matter what, but with a script this weak, there’s only so much they can do. Even though the premise sounds great on paper with tons of potential, they completely missed the opportunity to dive deep into psychological horror and generational trauma between father and son. As for the storytelling, the coincidences are far too blatant just to move the plot forward, stripping away the tension and suspense. In the end, running for nearly two hours felt like overkill. Given how they framed everything, they would've been much better off capping it at a tight 90 minutes. It’s unfortunate that it just ends up feeling like another generic catalog thriller.
Media from TMDB gallery
Rating: 60/100
