Windfall

Lily Collins' new Netflix film, Windfall, which was directed by her husband Charlie McDowell, drops on Netflix on March 18. But where was Windfall filmed?

When one circumstance comes up, it’s unexpected how that changes your course and your perspective of yourself and the world.” We’re all flawed, and the story showcases and starts to unearth how those flaws come about and that none of us are innocent. “We wrote the film to fit that specific house,” said Charlie, referring to the Ojai-based property that appears in the film. Lily Collins both starred and produced the film alongside husband and director Charlie McDowell. Speaking about working on the film together, she said: “I thought it would be harder, I have to say. While Charlie added: “With Lily there, I felt a lot of pressure with making sure that her character was well-rounded and three-dimensional. And finds ways to steal assets from the CEO, even negotiating with him to make a deal of $150,000. We didn’t want to make a ‘pandemic movie.’ But we wanted to make something that captured the feeling of this moment and being trapped and how, even when it’s a beautiful space, we start to break down and go crazy. She added: “It was great, and I’m really, really proud of the movie and I’m proud of him. I think we made something unique and completely outside the box and I’m so excited to share it with you all.” Those familiar to Ojai and it’s stunning scenery will recognise the TopaTopa Mountains in the background of several outdoor scenes. Windfall was filmed in Ojai, California. The couple’s holiday home – where most of the action takes place – is reported to be the three-star hotel Casa Ojai Inn, near the Soule Park Golf Course and town centre. Fans will be taken in by the sunshine and luxury aesthetics that make up the setting of this film.

Jason Segel breaks into Jesse Plemons and Lily Collins' lavish holiday home in Windfall. Read the Empire review now.

As the couple subject to a break-in, Jesse Plemons and Lily Collins do a lot with what could easily be ‘rich arsehole’ stereotypes. There’s some enjoyable tension as it becomes clear everyone is improvising their way through proceedings; the script (Segel is credited as a co-writer) takes pains to make the motivations and movements feel believable. In the initial seconds of the film, a man (like all four characters in this film, never named) played by Jason Segel breaks into a swanky second home.

Jesse Plemons, Jason Segel and Lily Collins are wasted in a ho-hum Covid-shot crime drama that struggles to distinguish itself.

There’s a crackle missing from the dialogue, the script outdone by McDowell’s crisp, bright visuals (it’s a hell of a house) and a fun, atmospheric score from Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans. There’s never really enough for the underserved trio of actors to sink their teeth into, although they all manage to coast comfortably enough – Plemons subverting his nice and quiet shtick to become loud and odious, Collins trying to bring depth to a bored trophy wife with edge and Segel further scuzzing it up to distance himself from any studio comedy associations. The Covid-conceived and shot film, which could have easily been a stage play, then cosies the three up for the duration, spatting with each other as they figure out how to survive. But it’s also a question that many of us have been asking for the last almost decade of film, the actor fading from the comedy A-list and far, far into the background.

Charlie McDowell's thriller Windfall joins the long list of movies not giving their characters actual names. Here is why this move is necessary.

Instead of having personalized names, they are only called by the roles they play in life: the CEO, his Wife, and Nobody. Because of this, Windfall shifts its focus to its themes, emphasizing the gap between the burglar and his victims. By introducing nameless characters, Windfall forces its audience to realize how realistic its plot is. Although the thriller is mostly set within the wealthy couple’s property, it manages to unravel the complexities of economic inequalities with its metaphors and intimate conversations. Meanwhile, Wife is then labeled as such since, throughout the film, she is merely seen as the extension of her husband. On the other hand, Nobody is named literally. Windfall makes the deliberate choice to avoid giving its characters actual names.

A tech billionaire confronts his burglar in the Netflix's latest thriller.

But whereas The One I Love had a science-fiction twist, Windfall is propelled by a real-life crisis: the gaping chasm between the incredibly rich and the rest of us, and the impossibility of bridging it unscathed. Despite its gleaming setting, Windfall strikes the tone of a noir, its story suffused with a cynicism as sweeping as the vistas its mansion overlooks. Watching Segel’s burglar bumble his way into increasingly grim circumstances, I was reminded of The Edukators, the 2004 German-Austrian crime drama about a trio of young radicals who decide to teach the wealthy a lesson by breaking into their homes just to unsettle them. We learn that the origin of the billionaire’s fortune is an algorithm for layoffs and that he doesn’t feel bad about having created it; he wastes little time asking the thief if he was one of the unlucky who lost their jobs because of his work. And although this man is a total amateur, he piles crime on top of crime, taking the well-heeled couple hostage. And the burglar is an oaf; he struggles to unclasp the wife’s purse, can’t keep his boots tied, and has tantrums every time something doesn’t go his way, which is frequently.