Available on DVD and on demand from Mon 12 Oct 2015

Dean Francis / Australia / 2015 / 93 mins

What is Len Smithy’s problem? Masculinity, as we are forever being told, is in crisis. Casual sexism, misogyny, sexual violence and homophobia are often given expression and fuelled by binge drinking. So a film that skillfully examines these issues would be timely. Drown, sadly, is not quite it.

Len (Matt Levett) is a champ lifeguard on a Sydney beach. It’s all very physical, male and (with personnel spending all day wearing nothing more than red Speedos) undeniably homoerotic. Into this world comes new boy Phil (Jack Matthews). But when the keen-eyed Len spies Phil with another man, he realises that Phil is gay. Len is only too aware of his own roaming eye in this world of swimmer’s shoulders and Men’s Health pecs. Will he get turned on, or just turn nasty?

Told in a crosshatch of flashbacks and -forwards, the story is about pride, saving face, and admitting who and what you are, even if it’s only to yourself. Len can’t. A lost soul with daddy issues, his status as lead lifeguard is slipping – especially when he tries and fails to save a woman swimmer who has no wish to be saved. A lads’ night out ends with binge vomiting, Len getting wasted and going rogue in a fetchingly blood-spattered wifebeater.

All this seems a bit like a series of scenarios strung together, the camera constantly panning up and down honed male musculature. There are some elegant night-time shots and the ocean swimming cinematography by Dean Cropp is wonderful. But in the end it’s all a bit vacuous – a softcore skinflick with arty pretensions.

The real shame is that it’s such a waste of talent and expertise. This low-budget film (directed, written and edited by Dean Francis from a play by Stephen Davis) could have been so much more insightful. It’s perfectly shot, however, and pent-up Matt Levett (looking like Vladimir Putin’s love child) is a revelation.