I.T. (2016)

I.T. taps into a very modern fear with old-fashioned efficiency: the idea that the walls of your home can turn into windows the moment you invite the wrong person behind your network. Pierce Brosnan gives the film its backbone, playing a polished, self-made patriarch whose confidence curdles into primal protectiveness as the threat becomes intimate, invisible, and relentlessly personal. The vibe is sleek, tense, and nasty in a plausible way—less about elaborate twists than the creeping dread of watching everyday devices become weapons—so when it hits its best stretches, it’s genuinely nerve-racking. It’s not for everyone, especially given the disturbing stalking elements and violations of privacy, but if you want a brisk, timely techno-thriller that knows how to press on a contemporary pressure point, this one delivers.

I.T. wants to be a modern paranoia thriller about how “smart” homes and personal data can turn into weapons, and on paper that’s a solid, relatable fear. The problem is it plays out like a checklist of familiar techno-stalker beats, with a lot of contrived turns and characters making choices that feel more convenient than believable. It also leans into nasty, invasive material (including exploitation of a teen) that can feel grim rather than suspenseful, especially since the movie doesn’t bring much new insight to justify it. Pierce Brosnan brings some sturdy screen presence and the premise can keep you mildly engaged, but if you’re hoping for a smart, fresh, or plausibly grounded thriller, this one may test your patience.