“Restless” is a spare, reasonably taut thriller of the “Neighbor from Hell” subgenre, the sort of movie most any member of Western or Eastern Civilization can relate to.

Writer-director Jed Hart serves up a little suspense and a few surprises even as he never quite makes all of this that he could have.

Lucky for him Lyndsey Marshal’s here to win our empathy and our outrage.

Even when her character, rest home caregiver Nikki, is blundering in over her head with a situation she can easily escalate, but may not be able to escape or win any sense of satisfaction from, Marshal — of TV’s “Rome” (she was Cleopatra), “Hanna” and “League of Gentlemen” — immerses herself in sleep deprivation, the helplessness and a rising fury as a woman trying to cope with a loutish, noisy and bullying new neighbor in the duplex she used to split with her parents.

An empty-nester with a son at “uni” and a nursing home employer who keeps imposing on her, Nicola grasps for what few shreds of civility life in this downmarket, rough-edged subdivision affords her — meditation podcasts and classical music radio.

But her new neighbor (Aston McAuley) is given to all-night raves — loud music, coarse characters for friends, the works. Reasoning with him might work, for a while. But his unruly mates insult her and that sound system is just too tempting for the short-attention spanned and self-absorbed.

The police, in the UK as in the US, put all their efforts into an indifferent not-our-problem shrug.

“Take it up with the Council.”

And her neighbors, young and old, “don’t want to get involved.”

As matters spiral, things are certain to get out of hand. But how far will this go?

As the opening scene was Nikki heading off to the country with a load in the trunk and a shovel, and as Nikki’s week-long unraveling has revealed she has a cat, we think we know. But maybe not.

Writer-director Hart serves up a stock doofus parking enforcer (Barry Ward) who has crushed on middle-aged Nikki forever, a sister who never answers her phone to give Nikki advice and hooligan friends of that new neighbor, and other toughs who preceded this “Deano” and his substance-abusing blokes into their corner of suburban Jolly Olde.

Some are scripted to infuriate and intimidate, others to frustrate and foreshadow, in an under-developed way.

As someone who appreciates actors and actresses who commit, to the hilt, to even the indiest of indie films, I relished Marshal’s wrung-out turn as Nikki. If you’ve ever been sleep deprived for even a week, you’ll recognize the clumsiness and poor decision-making that is Nikki’s character arc from timid, polite and civil to something else.

How desperate do you have to be to basically come on to an unappealing admirer just to have a quiet place to sleep?

As someone who’s lived in dorms, apartments, marinas and long-term mortgage neighborhoods, and dealt with the biker who likes revving his Harley at 4:30 a.m., the farmer who’s moved to a subdivision and who figures butchering your shrubs and trees is doing to a favor, the party-every-night college kids and the like, I was right there with Nikki as she looks for solutions “the system” isn’t willing to provide.

Like you, I see her mistakes and how they contribute to the movie’s surprising but less-than-satisfying third act.

Sometimes, it’s not as simple as throwing a power breaker, shoveling up a belligerent old man’s massive mastiff massive poops on your sidewalk and flinging them against his door or “SWATTING” noisy, out-of-control jerks who don’t want cops knocking at their door for any reason.

Whatever lessons the movies try to deliver in “revenge” tales like this, escalations almost never pay off, no matter how impotent you feel at having your sleep and sanity assaulted. Sure, pouring powdered Quikrete into their drain pipes works. But for how long?

Some neighbors are just too dim to get Will Rogers’ maxim about freedom, rights and neighborliness and how it applies to maintaining a civil society or a community where people make an effort to be considerate and get along.

“Your right to swing your arms stops just short of my nose.”

Rating: TV 18+, violence, drugs, nudity, profanity

Cast: Lyndsey Marshal, Aston McAuley, Denzel Baidoo, Kate Robbins and Barry Ward.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Jed Hart. A Quiver release on Amazon Prime.

Running time: 1:31