
“LIFT” — A Claustrophobic Descent into Guilt and Survival
There are thrillers that make your pulse race, and there are thrillers that make your chest tighten. Lift, the Indonesian feature film directed by Randy Chans and produced by Aria Gardadipura and Adha Riantono (from the creative team behind The Raid), falls firmly into the second category — an experience that grips you from its opening minutes and never lets go.
Set almost entirely inside a corporate elevator, Lift transforms a confined space into a battlefield of fear, guilt, and revelation. It’s a psychological thriller that unfolds in real time, yet feels like an eternity of escalating dread. The setup is deceptively simple: a mysterious elevator malfunction traps a PR officer named Linda and an influencer-business partner named Anton in a corporate tower after the suspicious death of the company’s former director. But what begins as a survival scenario quickly turns into a moral interrogation — one that exposes how far people are willing to go to protect their careers, their secrets, and themselves.

Without giving away spoilers, the story of Lift revolves around five interconnected characters — Hansen, Doris, X, Linda, and Anton — whose lives and lies intertwine in ways that only reveal themselves as the elevator tightens its grip. The narrative structure feels almost theatrical, like watching a play unfold in real time, where every pause and breath matters.
What truly anchors this film is the performance of Ismi Melinda as Linda. She delivers a powerhouse portrayal, oscillating between fear, denial, and resolve with striking precision. Melinda carries entire scenes on her own, using micro-expressions and tension-filled silences to communicate volumes. She’s a revelation — a magnetic presence who makes us feel every ounce of pressure in that steel box.
The rest of the ensemble — Verdi Solaiman (Hansen), Shareefa Daanish (Doris), Alfie Alfandy (X), and Max Metino (Anton) — all rise to the occasion. There’s not a weak link among them. Each performer brings emotional truth and physical realism to roles that could easily have slipped into melodrama. Together, they create a sense of claustrophobic authenticity that makes the unfolding chaos eerily believable.

Technically, Lift is a marvel of Indonesian genre cinema. The cinematography stands out for its striking use of framing and close-ups — the camera often lingers uncomfortably close to the actors’ faces, amplifying the sensation of being trapped. You can practically feel the metal walls closing in. The editing is sharp and deliberate, maintaining rhythm without ever breaking the immersion.
The sound design deserves special mention. Every metallic creak, breath, and moment of silence feels calibrated for maximum tension. When the voice over the intercom begins to manipulate the characters, the sound mix becomes its own psychological weapon. The score adds just enough pulse to heighten anxiety without overpowering the performances.
Then there are the effects — both digital and practical — which are surprisingly refined given the film’s $245,000 budget. The elevator sequences are visceral, and some moments (without spoiling them) are strong enough to make you physically flinch. The illusion is so convincing that you often forget how contained the setting really is.

At its heart, Lift is about accountability. It asks uncomfortable questions about complicity and moral blindness inside corporate systems that thrive on silence. As the minutes tick by, the elevator becomes more than a trap — it becomes a confessional, a courtroom, and finally, a stage for reckoning.
Director Randy Chans demonstrates extraordinary control over tension. He knows exactly when to let a scene breathe and when to choke the air out of it. His background as a creative director in advertising shows in his precision — every frame serves a purpose, every shot a message. He never wastes space or time. The result is a film that feels both cinematic and psychological, visceral yet poetic.
There are echoes of Saw and The Platform here — but Lift remains deeply Indonesian in its soul. The pacing, tone, and emotional beats reflect the country’s growing cinematic confidence in crafting sophisticated thrillers that speak to both local and global audiences.

Lift is proof that great thrillers don’t need wide landscapes — they just need focus, vision, and nerve. It’s a film that keeps you guessing, clutching your seat, and questioning your own instincts. The final twist — which we won’t spoil — lands with the force of a free fall, redefining everything that came before.
With its top-notch performances, immersive sound, and razor-sharp direction, Lift stands as one of Indonesia’s most promising genre films of the year. It’s bold, it’s precise, and it’s a ride that doesn’t let you off easily.
Verdict:
A gripping and skillfully executed thriller that turns a single elevator into a psychological battlefield. Lift cements Randy Chans as one of Indonesia’s bold new directors to watch.
Film Credits
Director: Randy Chans
Writer: Aria Gardadipura
Producers: Adha Riantono
Co-Producers: Ario Sagantoro, Ismi Melinda
Cast: Ismi Melinda, Max Metino, Verdi Solaiman, Shareefa Daanish, Alfie Alfandy
Runtime: 1h 37m | Genre: Thriller / Drama / Action | Country: Indonesia
Disclaimer: All images, clips, and materials referenced in this article belong solely to the respective filmmakers, producers, and rights holders of the film “Lift.” This review reflects only the personal opinions and professional perspectives of the authors, Darwin Reina and Rodrigo G. Torres, and does not represent any official endorsement or ownership of the visual content featured.
Film Review: LIFT By Darwin Reina and Rodrigo Torres
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