It has been said that all great stories have already been told. That the ones we tell now are really variations of those that came before. Whether consciously or not, some storytellers challenge this idea by seeking originality in their concepts or by pursuing authenticity in the way those ideas are conveyed — through experimentation with form, structure, or voice. Others, on the other hand, draw directly from our recorded history or previous fictional works. Inspiration and adaptation have not only been the foundation of great art but also a means through which artists reveal themselves and their vision. That was the case for John William Waterhouse, the English painter inspired by Greek mythology to create his renowned Hylas and the Nymphs in 1896.

Jump ahead more than a century, and the same myth — the story of Hylas, an Argonaut who vanishes after being lured by water nymphs while searching for fresh water — has resurfaced as a source of inspiration. This time, filmmaker Samuel Clemens draws not only from the myth but also from Waterhouse’s painting to craft a feature-length thriller. The Drowned follows a group of thieves who, after stealing the British masterwork, hide out in an isolated beach house before escaping abroad, only to find themselves caught in a fate similar to Hylas’. It’s an inventive premise that merges mythology, art, and suspense, but one whose execution fails to live up to its promise, resulting in a dull and frustrating viewing experience.

We enter into Clemens’ world anchored to Eric (Alan Calton), who arrives alone at a remote seaside house, where he unsuccessfully looks for a woman, only to find her bracelet in a pool of blood alongside the object that brought him there: the stolen painting. He’s later joined by his boyfriend, Matt (Dominic Vulliamy), and their friend Paul (Michelangelo Fortuzzi). Tensions rise as we learn that the missing woman is Matt’s mother, and that Matt suspects Eric’s involvement in her disappearance. The trio’s fragile dynamic collapses after they experience a collective blackout triggered by a wailing from the ocean. They refuse to talk about it, but confrontation is inevitable once Matt finds his mother’s bloody bracelet and accuses Eric of killing her, and also of sleeping with her. And he’s not wrong; it’s just not clear at all how he got there. They’re interrupted by three women, each conveniently a perfect match for each of the men, and after a series of additional blackouts, trust is broken and violence ensues. The men begin to disappear one by one, and the women are ultimately revealed to be water nymphs luring them, like Hylas, into the sea.

Although The Drowned unfolds mostly in a single location, to call it minimalist would be to ignore aspects of its execution where restraint would’ve benefited the final result. While it’s almost inevitable to acknowledge the correlation between a one-location film and its budget restrictions, Clemens’s script makes it even more evident through its insistence on repeatedly evoking imagery it cannot show, and its dialogue often serves as an excuse for exposition. From the start, characters announce their intentions outright, and Paul even enumerates everyone’s assigned role in the heist (“muscle,” “merch,” “passports,” “supplies”). Later, Paul is pressured by Eric into recounting his entire journey to the house, a conversation that purely exists to reveal their plan to escape by boat. When new characters appear, the same over-explanation repeats, leaving little room for natural discovery.

The film’s character choices, and their sheer number, further dilute its potential for a simple, focused story. All three women share the single goal of finding refuge for the night and seem to be there only in that quantity to create needless symmetry with the men. In contrast to the film’s opening, we are no longer anchored to a protagonist, as the perspective unevenly shifts between Eric, Matt, and Paul without successfully allowing us to engage with either. Pixie (Lily Catalifo) stands out among the uninvited guests, but the true antagonistic force doesn’t emerge until too late for the story to build meaningful tension. The characters’ redundancy is heightened by their lack of depth. We know little about their relationships, and their transactional exchanges reveal even less. Additionally, the casting choices don’t contribute, as the three male leads seem drawn from different worlds, and the chemistry between Eric and Matt is entirely absent. With a better script, the acting might have been more persuasive, but the lack of subtext makes the amateurishness of the performances painfully apparent.

Tonally, The Drowned lacks the thrills and suspense necessary to keep us invested. Instead of building up tension, confrontation ensues in an unearned manner, and, in spite of beautiful overhead shots that evoke nature’s omnipotence, slower scenes that seem to be gradually leading up to a climax never arrive at a memorable resolution. On the contrary, moments that should induce anxiety don’t, like when the women don’t seem to suspect anything after the men can’t get each others’ names right, and nothing about their house indicates they’re there for the reasons they say they’re there for. Moreover, the uneven pacing prevents the story from timely taking off, and two-thirds into the film, the characters are still being introduced.

Rating: 1/5

Overall, this low-budget film showed potential to provide a suspenseful experience with additional depth for classic mythology and art fans. With a more character-driven script and a better use of its specific location, it might have succeeded. As opposed to Waterhouse, who conveyed in his painting the themes of temptation and the dangers of the unknown abstracted from its source material, this story fails to find its message, resulting in a film that lacks aim and conviction.