In the 90s, I was very into films laden with twists, in which the final denouement would recap exactly the way the story had unfolded behind the scenes you saw up until then. I prided myself on finding the lesser-known entries in this subgenre and championing them. So keep that in mind when I write Echo Valley has the feel of the kind of movie a teenage me might have found on the shelves at Blockbuster and fallen in love with. Sadly, I’m no longer a teenager, and while I still love a twist, I’m not nearly as dedicated to a film diet that relies so heavily on them. In the harsh light of 2025, my adulthood, and streaming, Valley isn’t a surprise to champion. It’s a not clever enough thriller.

Kate (Julianne Moore) is struggling. Her wife Patty (Kristina Valada-Viars) died abruptly months ago. Listening to saved voicemail messages from her gets Kate through her morning chores, but they aren’t enough to stop her from canceling multiple sessions with the clients she’s teaching to ride horses. As a result, she has to turn to her ex-husband Richard (Kyle MacLachlan) for assistance in keeping her farm livable. He cuts the check but not before browbeating her for asking and for coddling their daughter Claire (Sydney Sweeney).

Claire’s an addict stuck in a cycle of getting clean and then running from what works back into the arms of her no-good boyfriend, Ryan (Edmund Donovan). She predictably shows up on Claire’s doorstep, insisting this time she’s left Ryan for good. Unfortunately, in doing so, she plays a prank on him that puts them both on the hook with drug dealer Jackie (Domhnall Gleeson, slick with creep charisma). Somehow, that situation escalates into an accidental death that Kate steps up to hide to protect her child. But these things are never so easily resolved.

The first half of the movie, which dwells mostly on Moore’s bone-deep performances of grief and wounded motherhood, is quite good. Screenwriter Brad Ingelsby’s script effectively captures the pain of absence, choosing a series of simple, small symbols to convey the dark void of grief. During the scene where Kate visits her ex, she has a brief conversation with her new wife. Immediately, you can feel the ex’s exhaustion with Kate’s pain beneath her well-practiced cordiality. Similarly, the audience experiences Kate’s hunger to chase it away with that small human interaction. In moments like that, director Michael Pearce smartly gets out of the way. He doesn’t sweeten the visual for emphasis but keeps the screen’s gaze steady and open to “watch” the performers.

Despite the marketing material, Echo Valley isn’t a two-hander for Moore and Sweeney. Rather, it’s mostly Moore’s show. That said, from the moment Claire shuffles back into the farmhouse, Sweeney makes it clear she’s a mess. Sober or not, she is a woman who can’t trust herself. She’s certainly not ready to earn back her mom’s, despite the wounded Kate so freely welcoming her back in. When Sweeney’s in this gear, her performance feels accurate if a bit undercooked. As she falls back on bad habits, though, she becomes a convincing monster. By the time she commits a violent act, it is almost a relief because her desperate demands and shocking threats are far uglier.

While the second half of Echo Valley arrives with two of the film’s best performances—Gleeson’s antagonist and Fiona Shaw as Kate’s ride-or-die friend Jessie—it is also when the movie spins hard into unreality. What had been a drama about grief for the dead and unreachable turns into a crime caper. The initial move works, setting the amorality and greed of Jackie against Kate’s “do anything for her daughter” resolve in the battle for Claire’s well-being. As the twists build, though, they crowd out the family drama and, with it, much of the stakes. Soon, the plot feels like a Pacific Heights-style thriller that skipped two acts worth of ratcheting up the tension.

In a better film, the resolution would hit as both thrilling and emotionally satisfying. Unfortunately, by rushing it, the audience isn’t taking the ride with Moore. As a result, viewers get none of the thrill of the drops and loops. Instead, it feels like we waited in line for someone to tell us what the roller coaster would’ve been like if we got on.

There are ways to integrate tones and storytelling genres. Look no further than one of the year’s best, Sinners for proof. Echo Valley doesn’t find them, each section clashing with and undermining the other. That’s why its final shot doesn’t leave the viewer feeling hope or dread but rather a vaguely frustrated sense of, “wait, you’re not going to do this all over again, are you?”

AppleTV+ enters Echo Valley beginning June 12.

Echo Valley Trailer: