The Sound of Madness
Imagine surviving a pandemic, inflation, and algorithmic doomscrolling—only to have your sanity shattered by a neighbor's subwoofer. That's the premise of Restless, Jed Hart's debut thriller that weaponizes sleep deprivation like a horror villain. The trailer opens with Lyndsey Marshal's Nicky—a caregiver who probably folds towels with Zen-like precision—smiling through a wall-rattling remix of “Sweet Caroline.” Cut to her eyeballs, twitching like a metronome. We've all been there.
The Quiet Horror of Civility
Restless isn't just a “revenge flick.” It's a slow-burn study of how thin the veneer of politeness really is. Nicky starts with British restraint (“Could you possibly turn it down?”), but Aston McAuley's Deano—a human grenade with a Bluetooth speaker—grins back like he's auditioning for Joker 2. The escalation feels inevitable: passive-aggressive notes, 911 calls, a frying pan gripped like Excalibur. Hart's genius? He makes you root for the chaos. By the trailer's end, you're mentally drafting your own manifesto titled “Why I Salted Their Lawn.”
Why This Hits Harder in 2025
We're living in the era of “quiet quitting” and “loud budgeting,” where personal space is the ultimate luxury. Restless taps into a primal fear: losing control of your sanctuary. Nicky's battle isn't with Deano—it's with the humiliation of being ignored. Hart peppers in dark humor (note the neighbors' oblivious bliss during her meltdowns), but the subtext screams: How much can you take before you snap?
The Verdict: Noise Pollution as Gaslighting
Marshal's performance—equal parts fragility and feral rage—elevates this beyond Single White Female with a stereo. And Hart's direction wrings tension from mundane hell: a dripping faucet syncs with techno beats; a ceiling crack spreads like Nicky's sanity. The film's May 23rd VOD release is perfectly timed—just before summer, when real-life Deanos everywhere emerge from hibernation.
Final Thought: Restless might be fiction, but its trigger warning is real. Next time you blast music past midnight, remember: your neighbor could be one sleepless night away from Googling “how to disappear a person.”
