Let’s address the elephant in the room: vertigo. Spierig, who co-directed the first film with his brother Peter, now flies solo, and he brings a more clinical, almost documentary-like eye to the proceedings. The camera lingers on the tiny footholds, on the wind-whipped dust, on the sweat pooling in the creases of Slater’s neck. The IMAX-friendly compositions are genuinely stomach-churning, especially in a sequence where Luce dangles inverted from a single carabiner. It’s the kind of filmmaking that makes you instinctively pull your feet off the floor in the theater.
But where the original Fall had the gimmick of a radio tower and a startling, crowd-pleasing twist, Deadpoint plays its hand more honestly. That’s both a strength and a weakness. There’s no third-act surprise here; just a grinding, exhausting battle against the elements and the limits of human endurance. The script, credited to the same writing team, throws every obstacle at the pair - dehydration, hallucinations, a stray bird, a smuggler’s abandoned stash (hence Andrey Kasushkin’s brief but memorable appearance) - and some of these feel less like organic threats and more like checklist items on a survival thriller bingo card.
The emotional core rests squarely on the shoulders of Slater and Thomas, and they deliver. Slater’s Jax is all coiled tension and guilt, carrying her father’s ghost in every grimace. Thomas’s Luce brings a welcome warmth and pragmatism; her line about “not dying to make you feel brave” lands with real sting. Their chemistry is believable enough that when the film forces them into a contrived moral dilemma - one that involves a secret and a betrayal that felt shoehorned in - it still mostly works.
TMDb’s middling 5.6/10 rating feels a touch harsh. This isn’t a masterpiece, but it’s far from a misfire. The pacing flags in the middle act, where the pair waits out a storm in a cramped bivouac, and the dialogue turns repetitive. The film also struggles with its own logic: certain rope physics and the timely appearance of a drone (operated by a “Nearby Climber,” played by Alexandra Bartlett) stretch credulity to its breaking point. If you’re the type to yell at the screen about tensile strength, bring earplugs.
Still, for pure, unadulterated suspense, Deadpoint delivers. The final 20 minutes - a desperate, lightning-struck traverse across a sheer face - are as white-knuckle as anything released this year. It’s a shame the emotional payoff doesn’t quite match the physical climax.