Derelict (2024) (Blu-ray Review)
DIRECTED BY: Jonathan Zaurin
STARRING: Mike Coombes, Pete Bird, Suzanne Fulton
RATED: 18 (UK)/REGION Says B, will play in A/Widescreen/1080P/NUMBER OF DISCS 1
AVAILABLE FROM 101 Films
If you’re looking for a revenge thriller that punches you in the soul and drags you through the mud, Derelict delivers — even if it occasionally trips over its own ambitions. It’s the kind of movie that doesn’t care if you’re comfortable. In fact, it wants you to squirm. And surprisingly, that’s part of its charm.
Let’s start with what works: the performances. Suzanne Fulton as Abigail is quietly ferocious — grief has made her brittle, angry, and just desperate enough to do terrible things. She doesn’t roar; she simmers. And Michael Coombes as Matt gives the sort of “damaged in all the ways that aren’t cinematic enough to be predictable” performance that feels real. Then there’s Pete Bird’s Ewan, whose swagger meets self-destruction at every turn, dragging Matt (and us) into morally muddy territory. Together, these actors pull you in hard enough that you forget you paid little more than pocket change (relatively speaking) for this film to exist.
Speaking of budget: with around £30–35,000 in the tank, Derelict looks far better than some movies with ten times the bankroll. The grimy Herefordshire locales, the grey flats, underpasses, abandoned buildings — director Zaurin does an excellent job making desolation feel atmospheric, not just depressing. Cinematography is impressive, especially when toggling between monochrome and colour to reflect Abigail’s inner world vs. the remnants of her past. There are chapters, there are flashbacks, there are evocative bits of style that show Zaurin has read his revenge-thriller homework (plus maybe a little Memento and Dead Man’s Shoes).
Now, the caveats — because, let’s be honest, this isn’t perfect. The narrative sometimes wanders. Some stylistic choices, like colour shifts or time-jumps, threaten to feel like fancy tricks rather than deliberate emotional hooks. The pacing can sag in the middle; there are moments when the film seems to stretch scenes longer than they deserve, possibly to remind us “yes, this is a heavy movie, here’s more suffering.” But then again, maybe that’s the point. It’s not a movie that wants to reassure you.
Also, as much as I love the raw texture and the feeling you’re watching something born of necessity (artistic, emotional, or both), there are moments when the polish is missing. Some scenes feel rough around the edges, and a few supporting roles don’t land quite as hard as they probably should. But again — given the shoestring budget? Those flaws are more forgivable than some more “glossy” dramas that are far less honest.
In the end, Derelict isn’t beach reading. It’s not “feel-good.” It’s gritty, bleak, morally messy, and it wants you to feel a little dirty by the time it’s done. But that’s what makes it powerful. It knows that revenge isn’t clean, grief isn’t linear, and sometimes the worst monsters are human and familiar. If you have even a passing taste for films that make you sit with discomfort, that don’t try to put a pretty bow on trauma, then Derelict is worth your time (and your tissues). Jonathan Zaurin has proven himself to be a filmmaker who, even when shooting on what is basically indie-budget fumes, can wring something vivid and unforgettable out of darkness.
Verdict: Derelict is a bruising triumph — messy, bleak, maybe a little pretentious at times, but all the more potent for it. Not for the faint of heart, but very much for someone who wants their heartbreak served cold.
Extras
- Invisible Basketball – The making of Derelict
- The Petting Zoo – A short film by Virginie Selavy
- No Easy Answer – video essay by George Daniel Lea
- Shadow of my Bones by Mike Hoskins original song music video
- Deleted scenes
- Trailers
- Reversible sleeve featuring alternate poster art
