Adapted from Walter Mosley’s novel, The Man In My Basement is a striking work that invites the viewer to reflect inward while delving into the trauma that is ingrained on a generational level, going far deeper than any of us realizes. This movie marks the feature debut of director Nadia Latif, whose confident hand is evident in every frame, lending the film an impactful and, at times, dreamlike take on a complex yet incredibly human story.
The film stars Corey Hawkins as Charles Blakey, a man whose personal despair becomes the backdrop for a confrontation with the darkest corners of guilt, power, and morality that sits in the backdrop of all our choices.
Set in the historic Black community of Sag Harbor, New York, The Man in My Basement takes a familiar premise and reshapes it with a sharp examination of racial divisions and buried trauma. Charles Blakey straddles the abyss, facing foreclosure on the home built by his ancestors and hemmed in by bills he cannot pay. At least until a stranger comes to his door offering him a way out.
Enter Willem Dafoe’s unsettling Anniston Bennet, a stranger with a European accent and a proposition: for a large sum of money, Bennet asks to rent Blakey’s basement over the summer. What starts off seeming like a deal too good to ignore gets oddly stranger as more is uncovered, and the reality of the situation slowly comes to light.
“The Man in My Basement is, at times, a hard watch, veering into surreal and dark imagery…”
What follows is not simply a transaction, but a deep exploration of pain, struggle and what humans will justify when pushed to their limits. Latif and Mosley build the film around the chilling psychological interplay between Blakey and Bennet, who quickly reveals he wants more than just a place to stay—he seeks a self-imposed imprisonment, a kind of penance for unspecified harms, with it only getting stranger from there.
It is a complex film, where even the house and its history become a vital part of the story. Its ancestral weight presses down on Blakey as he questions the true cost of accepting Bennet’s bargain. In a quietly devastating reversal, the film explores how Blakey—descended from free Black landowners—becomes the jailer, while his wealthy, white tenant becomes the penitent prisoner.
The Man in My Basement is, at times, a hard watch, veering into surreal and dark imagery to delve into the complex morality that Blakey struggles with. Latif’s direction leans into suspense while refusing easy answers. The tension grows not only from the danger Bennet may or may not represent, but also from the historic shadows alive in every corner of the Blakey estate.
The film is never content with a simple villain; instead, it challenges its characters and audience to confront histories of privilege, complicity, and the weight of inherited guilt, as well as the fact that even generations later, there is still an inherited trauma that needs to be addressed to be truly free.
The performances drive this descent—Hawkins’ haunted energy playing off Dafoe’s characteristic edge. Supporting turns by Anna Diop as Narciss Gully and Tamara Lawrance as Bethany round out a cast that grounds the story in real emotional stakes. As Blakey’s isolation deepens, the narrow confines of the house generate a sense of claustrophobia, both physical and psychological, echoing the internal prisons that both men cannot escape. We, of course, can not leave out Dafoe, who delivers a haunting and at times disturbed performance that conveys just how troubled the house’s newest guest truly is.
While a hard watch at times, with characters that are deeply troubled, The Man in My Basement manages to be deeply memorable, with themes and concepts that even the most well-adjusted of us can take away from with meaning. The film’s sharp, suspenseful narrative and social relevance make it a festival highlight, likely to linger with audiences well past when the last screening of TIFF 2025 ends and the crowds go home
