STREAMING NOW ON NETFLIX: STEPHEN GRAHAM AND ANDREA RISEBOROUGH IN A MASTERCLASS OF TENSION!
A British psychological masterpiece that goes to places no other crime drama dares to touch. On Netflix, Stephen Graham’s character holds a ruthless young criminal captive in a secluded basement. The disturbing realization that shatters the investigation proves…
Heel (formerly known as Good Boy) is that film. Starring Stephen Graham and Andrea Riseborough, with Anson Boon as the chained teenager Tommy, this is Jan Komasa’s chilling psychological thriller that has everyone talking. Released in select theaters and on digital platforms in March 2026 (and now making waves on Netflix in certain regions), the movie doesn’t just entertain—it dismantles your sense of morality in the best, most unsettling way possible.
In the shadowy confines of an isolated suburban home, Chris (Graham) and his wife Kathryn (Riseborough) have taken in 19-year-old Tommy, a volatile young criminal whose life revolves around drugs, parties, and violence. Abducted one night on a drunken bender, Tommy wakes chained to the wall in the basement, wearing prison-like pajamas and kept on a leash. His captors claim their “rehabilitation” plan will tame him. But the longer he’s there, the more the power balance shifts. What begins as a twisted social experiment becomes something far darker.
Stephen Graham delivers a layered, unsettling performance as Chris. This is the same actor who earned an Emmy for his tour-de-force role in the Netflix hit Adolescence, and here he brings the same raw intensity and moral gray areas to a suburban father who crosses every line. Graham’s Chris isn’t a cartoon villain—he’s ordinary, charming in his own way, and completely convinced his methods are justified. The actor has said in interviews that portraying the “crazy parenting” required months of physical commitment, including building a claustrophobic basement set that feels like a prison within a prison.
Andrea Riseborough, a true chameleon, is magnetic as Kathryn. In Heel, she moves beyond her usual roles in Black Mirror and To Leslie to embody a woman who is equal parts enabler and co-conspirator. Their chemistry crackles with uncomfortable intimacy, making the family dynamic feel disturbingly real. The subtle power shifts between the three adults and one teenage prisoner keep you guessing whether this is revenge, therapy gone mad, or something even more sinister.
The basement itself is a character in the film. No windows, only a tiny door, grayish-brown walls, and a mattress that’s Tommy’s entire world. Director Jan Komasa (known for Corpus Christi) crafts sequences that are pure sensory horror—visual, auditory, and psychological. The constant close-ups on Graham’s face as he watches Tommy break, combined with Riseborough’s quiet, knowing glances, create a suffocating atmosphere. You feel the walls pressing in. You hear the chain rattle. And you wonder if you’re watching a crime drama or a horror film about the limits of human compassion.
But Heel isn’t just about captivity and control. It’s a meditation on family, redemption, and the terrifying idea that sometimes the people who “fix” you are the ones who break you most. Komasa explores themes of moral philosophy with surgical precision: Can a teenager’s behavior be rehabilitated through force? Is “good boy” behavior even possible when the environment is this toxic? The film raises questions about parenting, justice, and the thin line between protection and possession.
Critics have called it “quietly deranged,” “thought-provoking,” and “a Freudian nightmare wrapped in suburban normalcy.” It premiered to strong buzz at TIFF, where it was compared favorably to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in tone but executed with the raw intimacy of a found-family story.
If you’re a fan of tense British thrillers that subvert expectations (think Adolescence, Bodies, or even the darker corners of Line of Duty), Heel will hit like a freight train. Stephen Graham and Andrea Riseborough lead a cast that feels lived-in and dangerous, while Komasa’s direction ensures every frame drips with dread. The film doesn’t offer easy answers or tidy resolutions—it leaves you staring at the screen long after the credits, questioning your own assumptions about right and wrong.