Movie Review: ‘Betray: Thirst’ – A Hollow Thirst for Depth

Jaron Lockridge’s ‘Betray: Thirst‘ happens to be a sequel to his 2023 release thriller, Betray. The two films are not directly linked to each other but they seem to share similarities in the themes of marital disconnect, temptation and the consequences thereof. I have not seen the first film, but it seems very obvious that the writer/director is building a slate of similarly themed films.

‘Betray: Thirst‘ follows Jamal Wiggins (played by Kenon Walker), a well-to-do lawyer whose once-passionate marriage has grown cold and unresponsive. His best friend and law partner, Darren (played by Everett Anderson), is a serial womaniser who is at risk of ruining things with his woman, Ebony. Jamal and his wife Shavonne (played by Jai Johnson) feel responsible for bringing the couple together and are concerned about them so much that they fail to realise the cracks in their own marriage. Jamal particularly becomes increasingly troubled by their lack of intimacy.

Eventually, Jamal finds himself in a very tempting situation when he takes on the case of Jada Campbell (played by Bre Hassan), a very attractive woman who is seeking to get some compensation from the state for her husband, who is now bound to a wheelchair. A situation they believe started as a result of an accident he was in whilst on duty working as a fireman. Jamal is genuinely concerned and empathic at first. So much so that Jada’s husband’s abuse and hostility do not put him off from helping. And as you would expect, before long, he gets entangled in a sexual affair with Jada.  

This is not a story that is new at all. The narrative feels very predictable from the very start, and the way Jaron Lockridge chooses to approach this story doesn’t help much either. The film struggles at nearly every turn to lift itself off the ground. And even though it attempts to explore emotional dissatisfaction and moral dissonance, it lacks the nuance and tension to make any of it compelling. Everything about the plot seemed either too familiar or, in this case, almost repetitive. And worst of all, the characters used in this film feel like they weren’t fleshed out well enough.

The performances are a mixed bag. Kenon Walker delivers a passable portrayal of a man quietly unravelling under pressure, though the emotional stakes never quite land because the writing doesn’t support the complexity the role demands. Jai Johnson, on the other hand, appears a bit sidelined for much of the story, even though Shavonne is central to Jamal’s situation. And then there is Everett Anderson, who was given some space to improvise, but that often came across as unintentionally distracting. Interestingly, Bre Hassan feels like the strongest performance in this film. She handles the character Jada well enough to bring in equal measures of vulnerability, desire and then unseated rage fueled by rejection. But even with her, you can see the writing leaning more into very expected cliches and characterisations, which generally seemed to have watered down the performances.

Technically, the film is hampered by its production quality as well. It has all the typical markings of a ‘hood movie, albeit looking a bit polished. Jaron Lockridge is also credited as the cinematographer and the editor for this film and you can tell that he had his hands full with it. But he tried to play it safe with all the choices. There are still several very obvious inconsistencies in the framing of the scenes as well. Even the score, which tries to stir emotion, often feels mismatched and forced.

The most underwhelming aspect of this film is the narrative’s reluctance to delve deeper into the themes that it introduces. The idea of a sexless marriage is rich with emotional and psychological complexity, but it’s treated here as nothing more than a setup for temptation. There’s no real conversation between Jamal and Shavonne that could have added depth or challenged his actions. Instead, the struggles to provoke drama that could have exposed a flaw or captured a character arc.

‘Betray: Thirst’ feels like a missed opportunity. I will score it 5/10. There’s a skeleton of an all too familiar story here. A story about failed love and desires reawakening but it fails to be more than just that. It doesn’t offer enough emotional weight or complexity to make you reflect on how you’d respond in the same situation. It leaves you parched not for more, but for what it never quite delivers.