Ferryman: this exploration of assisted dying conveys a hint of lachrymose joy

Darren Bender’s unpolished indie debut pairs a conventional boy-meets-girl romance with a story about a secret club designed to help members take control of their own death.

Ferryman (2023)

In Greek legend the Ferryman was Charon, whose task was to ferry the souls of the dead across the rivers Styx and Acheron to Hades. In Ferryman, Charon’s function inspires the name of the Ferryman Club, a chain of individuals connected by a promise to each help another member achieve their wished-for death, and who will in turn be helped towards their own. It’s a ghoulish idea that could well have furnished the plot of a Roger Corman movie starring Vincent Price; but Darren Bender’s film plays out the concept in all seriousness, though alleviated by moments that are light-hearted, even playful.

Better known as a producer (Exhibit A, 2007), Bender has been planning this, his first feature film as director, for ten years. The wait eventually paid off. It’s a dark, meditative film, devoid of gimmicks, special effects or flashy camerawork; punctuated with shots of a grey, clouded full-moon, it opens with an enigmatic pre-credits sequence: a man sits in a wheelchair watching as an elderly woman hangs herself in her own house, looking distressed but making no attempt to stop her.

The man, it turns out, is Sparx (Clint Dyer), former sergeant of soldier Ashley Meadows (Oliver Lee).  Visiting Sparx, Ash finds him dead by suicide and a young woman, Eve Barber (Carli Fish), leaving the house. Strongly attracted to her, Ash learns that she was Sparx’s Ferryman – and that, suffering from a degenerative illness, she now expects a Ferryman of her own. “I want to die as myself – not as a prisoner,” she defiantly tells Ash. 

Already haunted by his own sense of guilt – he blames himself for Sparx’s disability – Ash finds himself torn between yearning for Eve to survive as long as possible and respecting her determination to die soon. Lee’s intense performance, effectively capturing this ambiguity of emotion, is more than matched by Fish as Eve, her unwavering death-purpose never precluding her lively sense of fun. Ash, realising that she’s hiding from him in a huge wheelie-bin in a multi-storey carpark, sends the bin trundling down the exit-spiral; when it halts, she emerges with a sweetly delighted grin.

More poignant, but still conveying a hint of lachrymose joy, is the mock wedding between Eve and Ash conducted by her grief-stricken parents (Raquel Cassidy, Jay Simpson) when she brings him to their house. Altogether, Ferryman achieves a rare balance: a film beset by an obsession with voluntary premature death, yet nonetheless still heartening. 

 ► Ferryman will be available to stream from 19 September.