KNOCK KNOCK: Is the Thriller with Reeves Really a Flop?

A decade ago, Keanu Reeves matured—both personally and artistically. At fifty, he no longer needed to play sad, boyish-faced loners. It was time to settle down. In the thriller Knock Knock, a curious turning point in his acting career occurred—he played a family man for the first time. His character now values the comforts of home and a good glass of wine over venturing out in search of action. But that’s just one of the quirks that might draw us to Knock Knock—a strange and uneven film. A film that, although it could easily be dismissed, possesses a mysterious allure that compels you to reassess your impressions right after the credits roll.

As Eli Roth, the director and screenwriter, admitted, the title (Knock Knock in the original) was meant to be simple and to evoke simple associations. Every fan of thrillers knows those moments when a character opens the door after a knock, only to find no one there. This is usually a signal that the character is about to fight for their life—or lose it.

In Roth’s film, Keanu Reeves’ character Evan experiences the exact opposite of this cliché. Not only does he find two attractive young women at his door, but at first glance, their intentions seem far from malicious. Evan assumes that inviting them inside will simply mean a short delay in his work. He makes them tea and lets them dry their clothes. But he very quickly realizes how wrong he was.

All of Roth’s films are known for being exceptionally gory—it’s a hallmark of his style. But this time, the director took a different approach. You could count the drops of blood in Knock Knock on one hand. Why the change? Roth explained in interviews that he wanted to try something new. He aimed to evoke the same intense emotions and fear that define his work, but without relying on blood and gore. So he took the 1977 exploitation classic Death Game and remade it in his own way.

He emphasized that he also wanted to infuse the film with the steamy atmosphere of Fatal Attraction.

So, how did that plan work out?

I’m really torn in my assessment of Knock Knock. On the one hand, based on the over-the-top acting (surprisingly, Reeves holds his own) and especially the dubious logic of the plot’s progression, it feels like the script was stitched together with some very thick thread. Honestly, I don’t know about you, but I just don’t buy the smooth manipulation of a grown, rational man by two strangers. In real life, it would likely have ended with a quick and decisive “please leave” or, at most, calling a cab—long before any “sensual milk” got spilled, so to speak. And even if the situation did spiral out of control, the character would still have plenty of opportunities to shut it down completely.

But Roth had one clear goal with Knock Knock, and considering the surprisingly effective ending, I think he achieved it. The film was meant to expose the flaws in male nature and question the idea of monogamy.

It was meant to show that while every man might place love, morality, and loyalty high on his value ladder, at the bottom rungs lurks desire—an unfulfilled desire that can lead to devastating consequences. You’d have to be made of some kind of stainless steel to escape the trap laid in this story. And there’s something painfully suggestive and truthful about the way the character fails. That vulnerability and weakness stirred in me both discomfort and resistance. Throughout the film, an inner voice kept asking: “What would you have done?” The fear the film provoked in me stemmed from the fact that I couldn’t give a clear answer. And though as a man I like to believe in the myth of unlimited masculine strength, Roth threw in my face just how wrong I might be.

So no—I’m far from calling Knock Knock trash or a flop, as much of the internet criticism eagerly does. This is not a bad film, no matter how rough it looks in parts. Roth’s movie is simply uneven and unpolished, but built on an intriguing premise—one that even prompts fundamental questions. And that, in itself, is surprising.