Cinema has long been fascinated with the idea that beneath the surface of idyllic suburban life, darker truths often lurk. Holland (2025), directed by Mimi Cave, is another addition to this tradition—a psychological thriller that explores deception, paranoia, and the fragility of trust. With Nicole Kidman leading an impressive cast, the film takes us into the heart of a seemingly peaceful town, where suspicions unravel a sinister reality.
While Holland is visually captivating and thematically rich, its execution leaves room for debate. The film teeters between suspense and satire, but does it manage to maintain its delicate balance? In this review, we will dissect Holland through its plot, performances, cinematography, themes, and overall impact.
Set in the picturesque town of Holland, Michigan, the film follows Nancy Vandergroot (Nicole Kidman), a devoted wife and home economics teacher, whose life appears picture-perfect. She is married to Fred (Matthew Macfadyen), a respected ophthalmologist, and they have a teenage son, Harry (Jude Hill). The Vandergroots are part of a close-knit community that prides itself on tradition and harmony, but Nancy soon senses something is amiss.
After discovering an out-of-place travel ticket, Nancy becomes suspicious of Fred’s frequent business trips. The more she investigates, the deeper she falls into a labyrinth of lies. Enlisting the help of Dave Delgado (Gael García Bernal), a fellow teacher with an interest in amateur detective work, Nancy slowly uncovers secrets that threaten to shatter the illusion of her domestic life.
As Nancy gets closer to the truth, the town itself seems to conspire against her. Friends who were once welcoming turn cold, and a sense of paranoia creeps into her reality. The film builds toward a climax where Nancy must confront not only the truth about her husband but also the unsettling realization that deception is woven into the very fabric of her community.
Nicole Kidman delivers an exceptional performance as Nancy, infusing her character with a blend of grace, vulnerability, and steely determination. At the start of the film, Nancy is the embodiment of suburban normalcy—soft-spoken, efficient, and ever-smiling. But as her suspicions grow, Kidman masterfully conveys her character’s unraveling psyche through micro-expressions and restrained body language. Her performance never veers into melodrama; instead, she builds tension gradually, making her descent into doubt and fear all the more gripping.
Matthew Macfadyen is equally compelling as Fred. At times warm and affable, at others distant and unsettling, he embodies the duality of a man with secrets. His ability to make the audience question whether Fred is truly guilty or if Nancy is losing her grip on reality is one of the film’s most effective tools in generating suspense.
Gael García Bernal’s Dave is an intriguing presence, though his character feels underdeveloped. While he provides crucial support to Nancy’s investigation, his motivations remain vague, making it difficult to fully invest in his role. Meanwhile, the supporting cast, including the town’s gossiping neighbors and overly friendly church members, adds layers of eeriness to the narrative.
Cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski creates a stunning visual contrast between the film’s sunlit exteriors and the shadows that loom within its interiors. The opening scenes showcase Holland’s postcard-perfect charm—neatly trimmed lawns, vibrant tulip fields, and orderly rows of Dutch-inspired architecture. But as Nancy’s paranoia grows, the cinematography reflects her shifting perception of reality.
One particularly striking technique used in the film is the gradual dimming of color. As Nancy’s suspicions deepen, the once-warm hues of her home become increasingly washed out, and the shadows grow longer. The film also employs reflective imagery—mirrors, windows, and even the shimmering surface of a lake—to reinforce the idea that perception is often distorted.
Additionally, Cave’s direction makes excellent use of sound design to heighten suspense. The ticking of a clock, the distant hum of wind turbines, and the eerie stillness of an empty room become more pronounced as Nancy’s paranoia escalates. These subtle yet effective choices immerse the audience in her psychological turmoil.
At its core, Holland is a film about trust—both within relationships and within a community. The town, with its cheery exterior, represents the carefully curated image that many people maintain in their personal lives. The film suggests that in tightly knit societies, the pressure to conform and keep secrets is often stronger than the desire for truth.
Another major theme is the role of gender expectations. Nancy is dismissed multiple times when she voices her concerns, with others implying that she is overreacting or letting her emotions cloud her judgment. This taps into a long-standing cinematic trope: the “hysterical woman” who is doubted until it is too late. However, Holland subverts this trope by allowing Nancy to be both rational and relentless in her pursuit of the truth.
There is also an underlying critique of surveillance and control. The town’s seemingly friendly nature masks an eerie sense of collective oversight. Everyone knows everyone’s business, but only certain truths are deemed acceptable to acknowledge. This atmosphere adds an element of social horror to the film, making it feel even more suffocating.
The first two acts of Holland are masterfully paced, slowly building tension and drawing the audience into Nancy’s perspective. However, the third act struggles to maintain this momentum. While the film’s central mystery is compelling, the resolution feels somewhat rushed. The climactic revelation about Fred, though shocking, lacks the emotional weight it deserves because certain narrative threads are left unresolved.
One of the most frustrating aspects of the film is its ambiguity. While ambiguity can be a powerful storytelling tool, Holland leaves a few too many questions unanswered. Was Fred’s deception part of something larger? How much did the townspeople know? And what ultimately becomes of Nancy? The film’s decision to end on a cryptic note may leave some viewers unsatisfied.
Another issue lies in its attempts to balance psychological thriller elements with moments of satire. While the film’s depiction of suburban absurdity is effective in the first half, it occasionally undercuts the tension in the later scenes. Certain comedic moments, though well-executed, might feel jarring to those expecting a more serious thriller.
Holland is an atmospheric and well-acted thriller that successfully immerses viewers in a world where paranoia and reality blur. Mimi Cave’s direction, combined with Nicole Kidman’s gripping performance, makes it an engaging watch. The film’s exploration of deception, social facades, and the cost of seeking the truth is thought-provoking, and its cinematography elevates the experience further.
However, its narrative shortcomings prevent it from achieving its full potential. The rushed third act and lack of resolution leave a sense of incompleteness, and the film’s tonal shifts might not work for everyone.
Despite these flaws, Holland is a film that lingers in the mind. It may not reinvent the psychological thriller genre, but it certainly adds an intriguing entry to its canon. Fans of slow-burn mysteries and unsettling suburban dramas will find much to appreciate, even if they leave the theater with lingering questions.
