This British Psychological Thriller Is a Dark and Atmospheric Exploration of Trauma (original) (raw)

4

Published May 28, 2025, 10:06 PM EDT

Namwene Mukabwa is a Collider author based in Nairobi, Kenya.

He has a penchant for Westerns, classics, historical, and underrated movies and television series.

He became hooked on screens at the age of nine when his dad bought their family's first television set.

A career television producer, budding filmmaker, and adjunct professor of visual storytelling, Namwene holds a bachelor's degree in communications (journalism).

Alfred Hitchcock laid the groundwork for psychological thrillers, and filmmakers have built on his legacy to create more inventive ways to manipulate audience perception. The British thriller Cordelia, directed by Adrian Shergold, is one good disciple of the master of suspense, building on other Hitchcockian classics to show a woman's slow mental unraveling like few films do. Set in a space that harks back to the unsettling world of Roman Polanski's horror classic Repulsion, Cordelia quietly pulls you into her breakdown. Like Hitchcock himself, Shergold keeps off graphic violence—aside for one scene—choosing instead to explore the mind, yet the film somehow manages to sustain a persistent, creeping sense of dread that lingers. He doubles up as a co-writer of the film's screenplay alongside Antonia Campbell-Hughes, who also stars as the titular Cordelia. Their writing relies on mood, atmosphere, and tension. They use claustrophobia, shadows, and silence to keep you on edge. The result is a dark take on trauma that draws power from the discomfort of the film's tight-space setting and characters' unclear motives.

What Is 'Cordelia' About?

Set in an unnervingly still basement apartment with green-tinged walls in London, the story follows Cordelia, an anxious actress who once survived an unnamed horrific event on the London Underground. The film explores how the event shapes Cordelia’s behavior, her relationships, and even her home. She shares the creaky, dimly lit flat with her twin sister Caroline (also played by Campbell-Hughes), who’s visibly irritated—perhaps as a result of years of being trapped in her sibling’s emotional orbit. When Caroline leaves for a weekend trip with her boyfriend, Cordelia is left alone, but she’s hardly alone in her head; she experiences wild and scary dreams, and as her reality and these dreams blur, so do ours.

The stale apartment is a character in itself. There are strange noises, flickering lights, and a dreadful stillness that suggests something unseen is inching closer. Her neighbors even add to the eerie creepiness of her world and reality. There’s the elderly one (a cameo by Michael Gambon), who chats with her about mice and rats. Then there’s Frank (Johnny Flynn), her upstairs neighbor who plays cello day and night and whom she is attracted to. He seems nice at first, though a later revelation casts doubt, but Shergold smartly never confirms anything outright, keeping the film's tension rooted in ambiguity.

Shergold’s Direction and Antonia Campbell-Hughes’ Restrained Performance Elevate ‘Cordelia'

Shergold's direction leans into minimalism, as his shots are mostly close-ups, which make us journey intimately with Cordelia throughout—especially when her anxiety strikes. At the same time, he hurtles his camera through the apartment's narrow and eerie corridors and spaces, turning ordinary places into unsettling traps. Take, for instance, a scene toward the end where Cordelia goes to Frank's house with the camera providing her point of view as she gets through squeezed spaces and opens scary-looking doors. In a sense, Shergold turns his camera into a weapon that haunts Cordelia—as well as the audience. He maximizes the effect of this eerie feeling by using sudden shadows, unusual camera angles, and a haunting sound design. His pacing is slow on purpose, letting tension build and drench in; it’s uncanny how much of Polanski’s Repulsion you can see in Cordelia, especially with regard to how isolation leads to the protagonists’ paranoia. But unlike Catherine Deneuve’s Carole, Campbell-Hughes’ Cordelia isn’t alienated from her trauma; rather, Cordelia tries in her own fractured way to live with it.

While Shergold sets the tone, it’s Campbell-Hughes who truly connects us to the story, as she brings a mix of nerves and nuance. As co-writers, the director and actress didn’t write Cordelia to be likable; neither was she even meant to be understandable, but Campbell-Hughes gives her a soul that makes us feel her crumbling world. She makes us listen with her to her threatening sounds, second-guess the motives of those she meets, and truly think about the power of the mind. Her internal tension is the film’s most harrowing element and what separates it from louder flicks like The Girl on the Train. It’s also commendable how she plays her dual role with finesse, although Caroline visually fades from the story early on.

Chris desperately reaches out into the void as he falls deeper into the ominous “sunken place” in 2017’s Get Out. Related

The film’s ending can be jarring as Cordelia doesn’t offer resolution in the way you'd expect of thrillers. There’s no cathartic climax and no moment where everything clicks into place, but that’s precisely why it works. All throughout, the film has been getting under your skin, so when this unresolved ending hits, it feels like one final sharp jab to make sure you keep thinking about it. You realize you don't even need answers to the questions the movie posed during its run; it's a fresh perspective on a genre that’s sometimes filled with over-explained narratives, especially in some endings. While it is not a perfect film, if you enjoyed the horrors of Lynne Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin, you’ll find something resonant in _Cordelia_—and their shared preference for tenacious dread over heart-jolters. Cordelia is a moody, minimalist gem that asks just one thing of you: pay attention, and don’t expect a good night’s sleep after.

0182284_poster_w780.jpg

Release Date

September 25, 2019

Runtime

89 minutes

Director

Adrian Shergold

Writers

Antonia Campbell-Hughes

Producers

Georgina Lowe, Sally Hawkins, Tania Reddin, Kevin Proctor

Cast