47 Meters Down

Lisa is on vacation in Mexico, recently dumped and trying to convince herself she's someone who takes risks. Her sister Kate talks her into an unofficial shark cage dive off a rust-bucket boat run by the friendly-but-clearly-not-licensed Captain Taylor. They descend. The winch cable snaps. The cage hits the bottom at 47 meters.

With limited oxygen, failing comms, and great white sharks patrolling above, their options are grim. The walkie-talkies only reach the surface when they swim up into open water — where the sharks are. Taylor's voice comes through in bursts: stay put, conserve air, help is coming. The tanks are not cooperating with that timeline.

Kate pushes into open water more than once. Lisa, the cautious one, is forced by circumstance into someone she barely recognizes. New tanks are eventually dropped down — a narrow window that extends the clock but doesn't solve the problem.

As Lisa nears the surface in what feels like a rescue, the film pulls the rug: she's been hallucinating from nitrogen narcosis, a side effect of ascending too fast under pressure. She's still at the bottom. Everything she experienced in the last several minutes — the rescue, the air, the safety — was not real.

She snaps out of it in time. Divers reach them and both sisters make it up. Kate is injured but alive. Lisa breaks the surface for the first time.