Deadrise

On a crisp Friday evening, Paula—a meticulous inspector for the Historic Trust—wraps up a consequential Midwest preservation project and begins the long drive home to Chicago. A late‑night call from her office redirects her to a towering, hulking steamship that has been abandoned on an industrial waterfront, its 400‑foot, soot‑stained hull looming like a relic of forgotten ambition. The ship’s still waters, littered with dead fish, hint at decay beneath the surface, setting a mood that is simultaneously awe‑inspiring and unnerving.

When her car finally gives out, Paula is forced to step onto the rust‑crowned deck, where she encounters Vigs, the ship’s self‑appointed caretaker. Vigs, an eccentric figure who seems at home among the corroded rivets and echoing chambers, offers her shelter for the night. Accepting his invitation, she slips into a cramped yet historic stateroom, where the thin walls barely contain the creaks and sighs of a vessel that has long been out of service. Over a modest dinner and a few cans of beer, a tentative camaraderie forms, juxtaposing the stark industrial backdrop with a fleeting sense of human connection.

The night on the derelict ship becomes a study in atmosphere as the darkness deepens, and the ship’s hidden corridors begin to suggest stories that have been waiting, patient and silent, for a listener. The film’s tone balances the quiet dread of an isolated, aging structure with the understated humor and curiosity that Paula brings to each new challenge. As she navigates the echoing halls, the audience is invited to share in a suspenseful, introspective journey—one that feels both intimate and expansive, capturing the restless spirit of independent filmmaking while leaving the true nature of the ship’s secrets just beyond reach.

Last Updated: September 09, 2025 at 15:26