Unclaimed, directed by Biodun Stephen, introduces itself as a psychological drama and maintains that identity without trying to pander to thrills or overreaching suspense. But by being committed to a more grounded psychological tone, it also risks being emotionally distant, dragging itself through an unnerving concept that ultimately lands softly. While it attempts to navigate themes of emotional abuse, fractured familial bonds, and repressed trauma, it sometimes loses focus on the very things that could have made its message more potent.

A Story of Delusion, Not Mystery

The plot’s setup is gripping enough: a psychological drama about a man whose unravelling mind clings to a false family narrative. Dieko, who lost his parents young, was taken in (but never adopted) by the Adeoyes—close family friends. Over time, he became more than a ward, but less than a son. And as the line blurred, it led to something quietly sinister. He would later marry their biological daughter, Mary.

Here’s where the film shows early signs of what could have been its strength: Dieko’s disturbed obsession with belonging. In one unforgettable moment, Mary finds that Dieko has cut out her face from a family photograph and replaced it with his. It’s haunting and would’ve been an incredible psychological pivot if the film allowed the tension to truly grow. Instead, it wraps it up too neatly, too fast. Mary immediately calls him out for this, and says he is trying to erase her from her family. This puts the central conflict right in our faces, but that immediate dialogue removes the mystery.  Silence would have done more until a defined pattern was identified.

We’re told again and again what to feel, what to know. The storytelling feels overly committed to exposition rather than evocation. There’s a constant need to explain rather than trust the audience to feel their way through. One could argue the film deliberately chooses drama over thriller, but even as a drama, the stakes never rise beyond a simmer. The tension should escalate but the film softens its own potential by spoonfeeding exposition and flattening the emotional weight. That makes for an easy watch, but not a gripping one.

Narrative Distractions and Wasted Lenses

There’s also a choice to tell parts of the story through the eyes of Detective Rose (Teniola Aladese), a hard-nosed investigator with a bias that clouds objectivity. This narrative lens feels like a red herring. Rose brings added conflict, yes, but she distracts from the real one—Dieko and Mary’s psychological descent. While her bias may symbolise society’s tendency to doubt women in domestic violence cases, the choice undermines what could’ve been a tighter psychological arc. Meanwhile, her male investigative counterpart is almost invisible—a wasted counterweight.

The family dynamics themselves are troubling and at times, clumsily handled. Mary’s mother (Jaiye Kuti) harbours clear favouritism for Dieko, her “adopted” son, which the film later justifies with a late-stage medical revelation: she could no longer bear children after Mary’s birth, and Dieko filled a void. This information, although potentially compelling, feels inserted for narrative convenience rather than rooted in emotional progression. Mary’s father (Norbert Young), mostly silent, only raises his voice when things explode. He remains a background figure, symbolic of yet another missed opportunity for nuance.

Power Dynamics and Performances

The dynamic between Mary and her parents (Norbert Young and Jaiye Kuti) is emotionally frustrating, as it should be. Mary’s mother clearly prefers Dieko over her own daughter, and the late introduction of her reason—blaming Mary for the loss of her womb—feels more like a narrative patch than an organic thread. This late revelation is not unconvincing, but its sudden appearance doesn’t help character depth.

The performances here are uneven. Kunle Remi leans into his role well enough, but the character’s descent into delusion never feels as horrifying or disturbing as it could have. Elma Mbadiwe holds her own but is given less material to expand emotionally. Detective Rose, however, feels like a constructed obstacle rather than a person. Her actions serve the plot more than they make sense as human behaviour.

What Works, What Falters

What Unclaimed does well is to stay committed to being a psychological drama. The tone and pace reflect that, even if the execution sometimes falters. Dieko’s desire to be loved, to be claimed by a family he believes should have been his, manifests in disturbing ways. He wants his foster parents not to just love him, but to replace their real daughter with him. He doesn’t want a wife; he wants their family. This is the central pathology of the film. But rather than letting us uncover it, we are told too much too soon. A stronger use of dramatic irony or unreliable narration could have given the film more psychological depth.

The visual storytelling rarely takes a risk. It feels like a safer version of other Western psychological thrillers, but Unclaimed avoids pretension. What you see (and hear—through dialogue) is what you get.

Unclaimed is not technically poor. The cinematography and editing are modest but not distracting. The sound design doesn’t attempt much and therefore never overreaches. For the average viewer, this is a digestible, moderately compelling film. But for viewers more attuned to cinematic storytelling or psychological nuance, it plays too safely.

What feels missing is a strong subtext. The film says everything it wants you to think. It doesn’t leave room for ambiguity, for internal questioning, or for interpretive depth. And that is a shame, because its themes, like belonging, trauma, fractured identity, are rich ground for emotional and cinematic excavation.

Final Thoughts

Unclaimed is a story about the desperation to belong, the toxicity of unresolved trauma, and the way emotional abuse can hide behind the facade of gratitude. It is not profound, but it is consistent. It avoids sensationalism and sticks to its lane as a psychological drama, which makes it easy to accept even when it doesn’t hit particularly hard.

Verdict

A modest psychological drama that delivers on premise but not on power. It has clear intentions, but its storytelling rarely demands emotional or intellectual investment. The film plays out like a soft echo of darker, more daring psychological thrillers, choosing to spoon-feed rather than challenge.

Rating: 2.5/5