The Woman In The Yard ★★★

Released: 28th March 2025

Director: Jaume Collet-Serra

Starring: Danielle Deadwyler, Russell Hornsby

Blumhouse has a way of pulling you in, keeping you so locked into their films that you often forget to breathe, let alone reach for snacks. They know horror. Whether it’s the nerve-shredding tension of The Invisible Man or the creeping dread of The Black Phone, their movies have a habit of leaving you rattled. The Woman in the Yard follows in that tradition—sort of. It’s eerie, unsettling, and laced with dread, but while the setup is chilling, the film doesn’t quite stick the landing.

Ramona (Danielle Deadwyler) has already been through hell. A devastating car crash taking her husband’s life (Russell Hornsby), leaving her badly injured and alone to raise their two kids—14-year-old Daniel (Peyton Jackson) and 6-year-old Olivia (Estella Kahiha)—in their quiet farmhouse. She’s barely holding it together, with grief weighing her down like an anchor.

Then, she appears. A woman, draped entirely in black, standing on their front lawn. Silent. Still. Staring. And then she speaks: “Today’s the day.”

Ramona wants to believe she’s just some lost traveller or someone in distress. But the woman doesn’t leave. She lingers. Hours turn into days. Then, she starts moving closer. First, the edge of the yard. Then, the porch. Then, the windows. Watching. Waiting.

This isn’t just an uninvited guest. This is something else. Something much worse. As fear takes hold, Ramona realizes she has no choice—she has to protect her children from whatever this is.

Written by first-time feature screenwriter Sam Stefanak, The Woman in the Yard taps into that primal fear of the unknown, the kind that keeps you up at night, staring out the window just to make sure no one’s there.

Jaume Collet-Serra himself knows how to build tension. He’s proven it with Orphan and The Shallows, and he does once more here. There is no reliance on cheap jump scares—just pure, slow-building dread. It’s all about the stillness, the waiting, the way the woman just stands there, unmoving, unwavering. It gets under your skin in the best way possible. Cinematographer Flavio Labiano (Jungle Cruise) makes brilliant use of negative space, leaving just enough darkness in the frame to make you question whether something else is lurking.

If there’s one reason to watch this film, it’s Danielle Deadwyler. Already a force in Till and The Harder They Fall, she delivers another knockout performance. Ramona isn’t just scared—she’s exhausted, broken, barely keeping it together. And you feel it. Every emotion, every ounce of her desperation, is right there on screen. It’s not just about surviving the horror outside—it’s about surviving the grief that’s already consuming her.

Peyton Jackson and Estella Kahiha hold their own as her kids, with Jackson playing the skeptical older brother and Kahiha bringing that eerie childlike innocence that makes supernatural horror even creepier. Meanwhile Okwui Okpokwasili as The Woman is terrifying, despite barely saying a word. It’s all in the way she moves—deliberate, slow, unnatural. Sometimes, it’s the simplest things that are the scariest.

The first two acts are genuinely unsettling, with the film playing on psychological horror as it keeps things ambiguous, making you question what’s real and what isn’t. But after all that careful tension-building, the third act doesn’t quite deliver the gut punch it promises.

The pacing while initially effective, starts to drag. There’s only so many times Ramona can check outside, see her still there, and freak out before it starts losing its edge. The repetition works to a point, but after a while, you crave something more.

And then there’s the ending. After all that build-up and slow-burning dread, you expect something big—something that cements the film in your memory long after the credits roll. But instead, the film leans into ambiguity. It’s eerie, yes, but it lacks the final hit that would’ve made it truly unforgettable. It’s like a rollercoaster that climbs and climbs… only to coast to a stop instead of dropping.

The Woman in the Yard is creepy, unsettling, and fuelled by a phenomenal lead performance. It thrives on atmosphere, crafting tension that lingers in the silence, stillness and unnerving presence of The Woman. But while the setup is fantastic, the payoff sadly doesn’t match. The slow-burn approach works until it starts to feel repetitive, with its ending struggling to deliver the powerful conclusion it builds towards.

Blumhouse has delivered some of the best horror in recent years, films that leave you breathless and looking over your shoulder long after they’re done. The Woman in the Yard doesn’t quite reach those heights, but it’s still an eerie, well-crafted watch.