Derelict, 2024.
Directed by Jonathan Zaurin.
Starring Suzanne Fulton, Pete Bird, Michael Coombes, Dean Kilbey, Leigh Barwell, Nick Cornwall, and Ayvianna Snow.
SYNOPSIS:
A grieving daughter seeks revenge for her father’s murder, and as one of those responsible is released from prison she discovers that getting revenge isn’t quite so easy.
Every so often a movie just grabs you by the throat and demands that you pay attention, and Jonathan Zaurin’s Derelict is a great example of exactly that. From the outside it is a gritty revenge thriller, set in a nondescript British town full of unsavoury characters doing unsavoury things, but the movie goes deeper than that, presenting a character study and the effects of grief and anger that most big-budget revenge movies don’t usually dwell on.
Abigail (Suzanne Fulton) is grieving for her father, who was brutally murdered some time before, and is living her life as a shell of a person, being distant from her sister, having one-night stands and having to defend herself against the gang that hangs around the estate where she lives. Elsewhere, Matt (Michael Coombes) comes home one day to discover his older brother Ewan (Pete Bird) has been released from prison and is sitting in his kitchen. As Matt’s loyalties are divided between his brother and his best friend, Ewan involves his brother in a plan that he says will make them rich, only things don’t go smoothly and Matt’s and Abigail’s lives soon become entwined in ways neither of them expected.
Right from the off Derelict is something very different to your average British revenge thriller. Mixing black-and-white and colour footage within a nonlinear narrative, Derelict is split into chapters, alternating between Abigail and Matt/Ewan with the colour grading changing as characters and events get more emotionally charged, and Jonathan Zaurin combines this storytelling method with stunning photography, deliberately framing shots in ways that tell part of the story without any of the characters onscreen having to do anything, their body language and expressions doing all the work.
But this artistic way of telling the story wouldn’t work without actors who can deliver what isn’t written in the script, and Derelict is full of powerhouse performances, none more so than Suzanne Fulton, who makes Abigail tragic but unyielding in her resolution to avenge her father’s death. Michael Coombes also impresses as Matt, who is not a bad person at heart but his loyalty to his brother proves to be his undoing, and Coombes’ puppy dog expressions give Matt an innocence and depth that makes you think he’ll come good in the end.
However, nobody in Derelict really comes good in the end as this is as bleak and dreary as movies depicting real life can get. The central plot device of a family man being murdered is heartbreaking enough, but it is the exploration of that event that is so compelling, that the killing didn’t just affect his immediate family, that the effects of a senseless event – a stupid decision – continue over years and not just to the people directly connected to the victim, and it is told not in a straightforward way, but with details drip-fed out of order for us to make sense of as Abigail and Matt try to make sense of their experiences. It is powerful and brilliant filmmaking, capturing raw emotion in its performances and visuals, with the filmmakers squeezing everything out of the script on a budget that wouldn’t cover the catering bill on a Hollywood film set.
That said, such artistic vision comes at a cost and that cost is that Derelict is not a popcorn movie, its deliberately slow pace and sombre atmosphere probably being off-putting to anyone looking for a hit of violent revenge action, but if you do want to experience something thought-provoking and different – and Derelict is a movie you experience rather than just watch – then Jonathan Zaurin and his crew have made probably the best British movie this decade, so make sure you catch it.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Chris Ward
Originally published September 22, 2025. Updated September 23, 2025.
