I was drowning before the first drop fell.

The Flood reclaims the myth of Ophelia as a surreal, modern-day exorcism of the roles imposed on women. Cutting between the wild, untamed shoreline of Southsea and the suffocating stillness of a contemporary home, the film traces the invisible pressures; societal, bodily, and familial that demand containment. By removing Queen Gertrude’s distant narration and returning the story to Ophelia herself, her death is transformed from passive tragedy into an act of agency and release. As sky bleeds into sea and the body begins to fracture, the film drifts into a haunting descent through a fluid, uncontained mind.