Lily Collins’ character in Windfall is a woman of few words. So few, in fact, that she doesn’t even have a name — she’s known as “Wife” while her husband (Jesse Plemons) is “CEO” and the robber they stumble upon in their California mansion (Jason Segel) is “Nobody.” But about 10 minutes before the movie ends, Wife makes a big decision. Huge. The audience may not know exactly what is about to happen, but a determined look in her eyes makes it clear something is about to go down. [Be warned, major spoilers ahead.]

“I think at the beginning of the movie, you don’t expect the trajectory that she’s going to go on,” Collins tells Tudum.

But before we dive into exactly what happens, let’s unpack the story leading up to our surprise ending. Wife and CEO spend the film being held hostage by Nobody, who’s broken into their expansive property. In order to get rid of Nobody, CEO arranges for Wife to pick up hush money being delivered to the front drive — he wants to pay off Nobody so everyone can escape the situation unharmed. But as she walks up and down the long driveway, something changes in her face. And she makes a decision — as Nobody is about to leave, she smashes him on the head and kills him. But instead of untying her husband and setting him free, she shoots him dead and plants the gun in Nobody’s hand. The only one escaping this weekend — and her confining marriage — is Wife. Mic drop.

“At first glance, you think you know what each of these characters is going to do, how they’re going to be, what their personalities are,” Collins says. “Then, as the movie progresses, and we’re stuck in this one location, all of the complexities of the relationships start to unfold. And for me, specifically, Wife starts to gain a sense of self and her voice and that strength. She also starts to spiral and deteriorate and feel completely out of her comfort zone.”

It’s a role that’s not exactly in line with Collins’ best-known character, the peppy go-getting marketing maven of Emily in Paris. But that’s what was so appealing to Collins about the role, which she filmed at the height of the pandemic before returning to Paris to film Season 2 of her Netflix hit.

“To play someone that the audience can champion — and also find it difficult to sympathize with — is a really hard line to toe. And, especially, knowing where Wife ends up at the very end and knowing that there’s the ultimate act of killing both men, I grappled with, ‘OK, we have to make that payoff work,’ ” she says. “We’ve got to start at the very beginning, tracking this woman who is more than meets the eye when you are first introduced to her. And I think she surprises herself throughout the movie. So it’s a subtle growth throughout the entire movie.”

Wife starts out in the shadow of her husband, but by the end of the film, she has very clearly overshadowed him. All of the characters are flawed, and they’re purposefully not named or given any real backstory, so that the audience isn’t necessarily inclined to sympathize with one over another. 

This way, explains Collins, “the audience can then decide their own feelings on the characters and there’s not an emotional attachment right away.” Collins elaborates on Wife’s journey and getting involved in the film, which was directed by her husband, Charlie McDowell. 

It’s interesting that Nobody and Wife are named in relation to the CEO — basically, her identity at the beginning of the film is just solely through her husband and that’s what changes by the end. 
I think before she met her husband, she knew who she was; she knew what she wanted and then she met him, and she thought that they were finding their future together. She’s finally admitting to herself that, through her marriage, she has lost her own sense of self and her identity. She starts to view her husband and hear her husband in slightly different ways while they’re there, and they’re getting really honest and open really fast in this environment.

Through the deterioration of CEO and Wife’s communication and relationship in this 24-, 36-hour period, she is starting to find her voice again. How do you then use that voice when you’re still technically trapped? 

A lot of actors don’t love to judge the character that they’re playing, but can you help that sometimes? Do you have an opinion on Wife? 
It is very hard because you try to find little bits of yourself in the character and then also parts of yourself, obviously, that are different. It’s a very hard thing not to judge a character when you haven’t been in that exact situation. However, to reference those feelings of being trapped inside and having to think about your life and think about your identity and what it is that you want to accomplish because of the pandemic, things that I know that I was thinking about and questioning and spending the time on — although it’s a different physical situation to Wife — I know what that feeling is. Seeing her internal struggle and the way in which she’s been undermined, undervalued and quieted by her husband, on top of this woman having passionate dreams and goals. I can understand so much of her wanting to step outside of that, wanting to find her voice, wanting to break free of the role that she’s found herself now in and the condition that she found herself in.

It’s clear that you have a stake in this character, and you obviously have an “in,” if you will, with the director, Charlie McDowell, considering you’re married to him. But when did you actually get involved in the film? 
I was hearing about Wife and the progress of her character in the other room for months, because I would hear Charlie, Andrew Kevin Walker, Justin [Lader] and Jason [Segel] on Zoom talking about the movie, the concept, the writing, the characters, how they were changing and growing far before I was involved in it. So I felt quite attached to her and the trajectory and the story very early on but did not know that I’d end up being involved in it in this way. I thought I was just going to be a supportive cheerleader on the sidelines and someone to talk through ideas.

But then [I] got to become this character and collaborate with them further. We talked out the character a lot. We talked through all the ins and outs and all the flaws and all of the preconceived ideas people would have coming in as to who she is. I tried to lessen the amount of judgment as much as I could because I’d have to then inhabit her and do this awful deed at the end, which ultimately was her freedom and kind of unshackling. There’s a lot that goes into it.

Did you know you would play her from the start?
I was there from the very first phone calls and Zooms, when they were all chatting saying, “OK, we’re going to be stuck in this for a while, and if we want to be creative, how can we do it? What kind of story can we tell?” 

Charlie has done two other films where he so brilliantly creates a very intimate group of people that all work in very similar ways and want to collaborate and tell a story in a small, one-location setting but that stands for something so much greater. To join this group of people and then be included in one location, a very small crew, very small cast and feel like it was a group of friends that are almost like family, spending time together, saying something important, but also being creative and getting to still play around and collaborate — that’s such a rare experience, and it was one that I did not think was a given that I’d get to be a part of in that way.

The single-location film is such a fascinating way to tell a story. Can you elaborate on that?
It’s a wild skill, I think. Because you have to make that location feel and look so many different ways. Especially with this one. It starts out feeling like a beautiful weekend home that is bright and sunny and so much possibility. It’s sprawling. And then it starts to become darker and scarier and more trapping and more claustrophobic and more ominous. And you do that through just knowing how to utilize the space as a character itself. So that’s what this house became.

That sort of follows Wife’s trajectory too. 
Yeah, she’s quieter at the beginning and ends up screaming at the very end and doing the deed that we don’t really expect her to be capable of at the beginning. She’s spoken over by her husband, and she’s undermined in a lot of ways. That’s a slow and steady trajectory that you don’t want people to over-anticipate at the beginning of the movie, but you also want to make sure that they buy it at the end — and end up feeling connected to her. The film is a real conversation piece.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.