Al (Macleod Andrews) is a mute young man who moves to a small house on a lake where local legend whispers of a monster in the waters that comes to drown unsuspecting swimmers. His neighbor is Tom (Evan Dumouchel) who actually did lose his husband to a drowning incident on the lake and is not so secretly searching for the monster that killed his beloved. The two men get along just fine, becoming nominal friends. Al is filled with the wonders of nature while Tom focuses on the water, and what he thinks lurks there, and how he will get his revenge. One night a pretty girl, Nina (Margaret Ying Drake) swims up to Al out of nowhere. She smiles and charms him, and the two of them connect. She swims away and he thinks nothing of this odd encounter other than he’s entranced by her. And thus their relationship starts, as the two of them fall slowly in love. Tom watches on the wings, suspicious (as he should be, since Nina never appears out of the water for very long), until eventually she changes, just enough, her eyes turning totally black and her voice taking on demonic tones. She tells him to run. He knows at last he has found the killer of his husband. And this is how it goes. Al must decide if he will try to have a storybook fairy tale romance with a creature from the lake, or if he will turn away from her and their love will remain forbidden. Will he heed the siren’s call?
Perry Blackshear, the writer and director here, has made a wonderful little movie. There are only three characters in the whole story (although there are peripheral folk like the little girl who Nina approaches while swimming) which makes this a very intimate affair. Whimsical, full of fantasy, but also equally full of dread and suspense, The Siren is one of those indie films that usually, quietly, slips away into obscurity, with a small cult following barely keeping it alive. This would be a shame, considering how good this is. Movies like this deserve the sort of praise films like Midsommar get but don’t have the right push to receive. This is truly independent filmmaking, a singular vision told with a haunting, lyrical voice. Now this isn’t to say it doesn’t have its downsides; it’s a bit too long, probably, and although it never drags, it does drift somewhat, but that’s the point, isn’t it? This is a hazy dreamsong, and once you click into the vibe of it, you’re hooked, just like Al is on Nina.
If you’re in the mood for a romantic film that dances to its own music, takes its time to develop, and plays like a dark and twisted fairy tale, you’re in the mood for The Siren. Small movies like this are the heartbeat of independent horror, and when they come along and are as good as this, don’t miss out. The Siren will enchant, will enthrall, and will fill you with a queasy uneasiness that creeps up on you and settles into your gut.
★★★☆