The Man In My Basement

Cast View all

	Corey Hawkins	Charles
	Willem Dafoe	Anniston
	Anna Diop	Narciss
	Jonathan Ajayi	Ricky
	Gershwyn Eustache Jnr	Clarence
	Pamela Nomvete	Irene
	Tamara Lawrance	Bethany
	Brian Bovell	Brent
	Lizzie Lomas	Extine
	Mark Arnold	Wilson Ryder
	Kayla Meikle	Lainie
	Tim Dewberry	Delivery Man
	Bret Jones	John Paterson
	Josiah Leonardo Kabeya	Young Charles
	Miah Hasselbaink	Athalia
	Dominique Tipper	Raelene
	Olivia Michi Shrenzel	Hina
	Shellia Kennedy	Peaches
	Brooke Walter	Newsreader
	Jason Thomas Brown	Construction Worker
	Nahna James	Extra
	Reed Stokes	Passenger

Crew View all

Director	Nadia Latif
Writer	Walter Mosley, Nadia Latif
Producer	Jason Aidoo, Ama Ampadu, Nick Batzias, Dave Bishop, Pauline Burt, Alex Cowan, Willem Dafoe, Meghan-Michele German, John Giwa-Amu, George Hamilton, Corey Hawkins, Diane Houslin, David Kimbangi, Alan Martin, Simon Moseley, Walter Mosley, James Pugh, Len Rowles, Kiah Simpson
Musician	Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe
Photography	Urszula Pontikos

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Notes

My quick rating - 4.8/10. The Man in My Basement starts with a promising hook. A man on the brink of losing everything decides to rent out his basement to an eccentric stranger. Simple setup, juicy potential. And with Corey Hawkins opposite Willem Dafoe, you’d expect the film to mine that tension for all it’s worth. Instead, it plays like a movie with all the right ingredients but no idea what to cook.

Charles Blakey (Hawkins) is down on his luck, but director Nadia Latif makes absolutely sure you don’t develop an ounce of sympathy for him. This man behaves like such an asshole at every turn that you end up watching him the way you watch a slow-moving car crash - morbid curiosity, zero emotional investment. Hawkins commits, no doubt, but the writing gives Charles so few redeeming qualities that it’s hard to care what happens to him, even as things start to get weird.

There are flashes of something deeper. Latif’s use of mirrors creates a handful of genuinely creepy, layered shots that hint at a richer psychological thriller lurking beneath the surface. And early on, the film teases multi-dimensional characters and a plot with enough shadowy corners to get lost in. But that promise evaporates quickly. The story locks into a single plotline and refuses to budge, dragging its feet through scenes that feel repetitive instead of suspenseful. What starts as intriguing soon becomes a test of patience.

As expected, every scene with Dafoe is a highlight. He brings that hypnotic, finely tuned strangeness he’s famous for, and his character—Anniston Bennett—feels like he’s harboring something fascinating just beneath the surface. Unfortunately, the film never lets us see it. One of the most glaring missed opportunities is the decision to hide Bennett’s past rather than explore it. Show us the memories, the people who shaped him, the emotional stakes behind his cryptic behavior, anything that would anchor the guy beyond “enigmatic basement renter with a vibe.” The breadcrumbs are there, Latif just never follows the trail.

And that runtime? At 114 minutes, The Man in My Basement overstays its welcome by at least twenty. Even stretching it to 90 minutes would’ve been ambitious given how thin the story ultimately is. The longer it goes, the more you feel the narrative spinning its wheels, building toward an endgame you assume will reveal something clever or profound. Instead, you get… basically nothing. Latif chooses the “no explanation needed” route, and the result is more frustrating than mysterious.

In the end, strong acting and a handful of stylish moments aren’t enough to save a script that feels lost in its own basement. Without Willem Dafoe, this would’ve been a complete misfire. Latif shows skill behind the camera, but the story needed far sharper direction.

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