Alice

A spoiler free review of Alice begins with its confidence as a thriller. Directed by Krystin Ver Linden, it leans on Keke Palmer and Common to give the material a human centre. At story level, South, slave and antebellum shape the central setup, but the later turns are best left for the film to reveal. Those ingredients give the film a useful foundation, but the lasting impression depends on how well it balances mood, character and momentum.

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The film is sharpest when it narrows the characters' options and lets consequences arrive naturally. That sense of escalation provides momentum, while the cast keeps the tension rooted in recognisable reactions. The material contains workable ideas, but the finished film feels uncertain about tone and emphasis. Momentum stalls, important beats are pushed too hard, and the performances have little space to develop beyond function. Individual moments work; the overall experience does not cohere.

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Keke Palmer and Common carry much of the emotional responsibility, and their different approaches keep the central relationship from becoming one note. Jonny Lee Miller makes a strong impression without pulling focus from the main line. Krystin Ver Linden's direction gives reactions time to register, which is important in a film where a look or hesitation can communicate more efficiently than another explanatory exchange.

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Thematically, Alice is interested in trust, control and the anxiety created when reliable information becomes difficult to separate from manipulation. That uncertainty gives the suspense a psychological edge, especially when the characters must act before they possess the complete picture. The film is most persuasive when these ideas emerge from behaviour rather than speeches. That additional layer gives the story more purpose than a sequence of familiar genre beats, even if every implication is not explored with equal depth.

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Technical restraint serves the film well. The camera observes details that may or may not matter, the soundtrack leaves useful pockets of silence, and the pacing allows uncertainty to accumulate. When the craft becomes too visible the tension weakens, but the stronger passages understand that anticipation depends on what remains outside the frame as much as what appears within it.

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The largest issue is a lack of dramatic accumulation. Events happen, but they do not build on one another with enough force, and the emotional cues feel imposed rather than discovered. By the final stretch, the film is asking for a response it has not prepared.

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Overall, Alice is more missed opportunity than satisfying experience. There are isolated strengths, but I cannot recommend it beyond very curious thriller fans who prefer steady escalation and psychological pressure to empty surprise.