Night Swim: A Short Dive into the Shallow End

Night Swim marks the long-form theatrical debut of director Bryce McGuire, whose previous body of work includes a strong collection of horror-focused short films. This may explain why the film, originally a four-minute short of the same name, feels somewhat thin. Clocking in at a concise 98 minutes, this tale of desperation and isolation has strong foundations. Its themes, plot concepts, and supernatural lore are surprisingly character-driven, weaving the fun and pulp-stained ‘horror’ of the film into something profoundly human. However, despite these promising ideas, the team struggles to bring them together by the end, lacking sufficient time or depth to solidify the power of the film’s intended message, which only manages to be whispered. With the potential of its story left unexplored, the film becomes a genre piece deeply rooted in tropes, often leading even the most tense and creative scenes to conclude with audience eye-rolls or bouts of laughter.

McGuire demonstrates a keen ability to establish tension and maximize the film’s premise. While the notion of a cursed water pool may seem initially absurd, the writing team successfully transforms it into genuine horror, reminiscent of the approach taken by the highly influential novelist, Stephen King. The opening scene sets a dark tone, utilizing the fear of drowning to create a cutting sense of tension, though the film struggles to recapture this in subsequent scenes. Tight camera shots, blurry imagery, and an unrelenting decision to keep the pool’s nature ambiguous contribute to a strong start, promising a film grounded in character and horrific in execution.

This promise fluctuates throughout the film, with the potential often proving more effective than the actual unfolding on screen. While the thematic fear of life changing uncontrollably aligns nicely with the temptation of accepting metaphorical devil’s gifts, the film falls short on character development by its conclusion, resulting in a twist that feels cheap and predictable. The family aspect, central to the film, is unfortunately underutilized as the actors lack the nuance to bring extra depth to characters who don’t have enough scenes or time to build bonds that feel genuine. The emotional impact of watching one father’s sickness tear apart his family arrives as a whimper, and the mystical pool’s bloodlust, initially promising, ends up feeling goofy as its origins are overly-explained and executed in a boring manner.

The actors give their best efforts, with Wyatt Russell showing glimpses of greatness. However, they’re constrained by limited material, and many in the main cast come off as stilted. It’s challenging to find something tangible to latch onto beyond surface-level qualities for all the characters, though Russell and Kerry Condon’s roles stand out with the most strength. Their experienced performances help drive the characters to the film’s conclusion without losing audience engagement entirely. While the film concludes with a schlocky, predictable, and unearned finale, the short runtime and central mystery maintain audience engagement, thanks to the performances having just enough substance.

The production craft is solid, featuring striking imagery throughout. However, the music occasionally diminishes the power of certain scenes, being overly loud and compensating for the film’s lack of jump scares. This detracts from scenes that would otherwise be incredibly disturbing or tense without it. Despite some striking shot composition, the film’s appearance is marred by an apparent reliance on Blumhouse’s generic gray grading, a major disappointment as more horror films strive to stand out with unique visual tones.