Mimi Cave's Dutch-obsessed thriller Holland assumes you've never seen Fargo, the movies that inspired Fargo, any Fargo knockoff, or a solitary small-town murder mystery. It's excruciatingly boring and at no point unexpected. Clogs and windmills aren't idiosyncratic lifesavers when your movie boasts no voice, strikes no mood, or achieves no captivation. Andrew Sodorski's screenplay topped the 2013 Blacklist, and Cave's prior cannibal derangement Fresh is a savory hoot, but neither accomplishment shines through this dead-on-arrival Coen Brothers wannabe.
Hell hath no fury like a bored white suburban housewife: enter Nicole Kidman as Nancy Vandergroot. Nancy lives in the quaint town of Holland, Michigan, serving as a Life Management teacher. She's married to optometrist Fred Vandergroot (Matthew Macfadyen), a beloved church deacon and wholesome community pillar. Fred frequently takes work trips, which leads Nancy to believe he's in a secret affair. With the help of her work husband Dave Delgado (Gael García Bernal), Nancy investigates her model-train-loving husband's activity to see if he's bedding a mistress. Not everything's chipper and cheery in Holland, or so Nancy believes.
As you might assume, the deeper Nancy and Dave dig, the stranger events become. Holland builds itself on domestic paranoia that might be all in her head, but that's the point. Nancy's intuition goes wild when she loses an earring, which spirals into accusations of adultery. Frank is painted as this sweet husband who uses pleasantries like "golly" and is suspiciously polite, while Nancy spins yarns with Dave on hunches. It's a setup that leaves plenty of room for betrayals and shocking twists, but Sodorski pens neither. You'll see every reveal coming three football fields away, while the film acts like plainly sighted inevitabilities are grand epiphanies.
Cave's decision to set Holland in the 2000s doesn't add any interesting wrinkle, nor does the adoption of Netherland signatures. Inherent quirks like tulip festivals, Klompendansen acts (clog dancing), and traditional embroidered clothing are visual distractions that barely carry context. The film's a tonal anomaly; obscure Dutch traits mean nothing to the midwestern caper outside the idea that filmmakers want you to forget that this Holland is in America. Tonality suffers as the oddball setup translates into zero darkly comedic laughs, with the only funny gag coming from Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire (played on television). The film's trick is its Hollandness, and it's overplayed in the first minute.
Kidman, Macfadyen, and Bernal are prisoners of an unsolvable formula. They're asked to make the most mundane narrative seem appealing, as their roles continue to choose adventures with the worst decisions possible. I won't spoil certain aspects that veer bloody and horrific, but Cave fails to handle hypocrisy amongst complicated characters in a way that endears us to their consequences or victories. Rachel Sennott pops in for a meaningless bit role, and Jude Hill is present as the Vandergroot's squeaky-clean son, but Holland is primarily a three-person show dripping in monotony. It's not zany enough to go awry, courageous enough to buck trends, or thoughtful enough to sense the film's only note might be off-key.
Nothing's more telling about Holland's quality than ideas or conflicts that only matter for a few minutes. Dave's race is targeted in a single instance when masked bigots trash his property, but it's never mentioned again—so why call it out at all? Clues are telegraphed thirty minutes before they're discovered (Fred's train miniatures and Polaroids, for example) because we're always seventeen steps ahead of inept deception tactics. Holland desperately wants to be as nutty and unexpected as a Coen brothers production, but it's a puzzle made from three gigantic pieces. Pawel Pogorzelski's crisp cinematography and Alex Somers' Dutch-gone-American score are trying their damndest to stand out, but Sodorski's writing answers questions before they can even be posed. That level of story-by-numbers approach won't let anything shine.
Holland is a mind-numbingly forgettable conspiracy thriller that does little beyond investing in European production design. Kidman's Dutch accent isn't enough to excuse her character's exhausting arc, dragging us through the weeds of a dully straightforward charade. Holland is a rarity for the wrong reason, unable to elicit a single emotion from start to finish. It's baffling how such a talented cast and crew can be attached to such a wreck, but here we are. The award for 2025's most disappointing release has a clear frontrunner.
Movie Score: 1.5/5
Matt Donato is a Los Angeles-based film critic currently published on SlashFilm, Fangoria, Bloody Disgusting, and anywhere else he’s allowed to spread the gospel of Demon Wind. He is also a member of the Critics Choice Association. Definitely don’t feed him after midnight.
Daily Dead's Official Podcast! Daily Dead's Official Podcast!
