From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A couple's vacation at a secluded estate is upended when they're forced to share the mansion with a mysterious couple. A dream getaway spirals into a nightmarish maze of sex, lies, and manipulation, triggering a battle for survival.”
For whatever reason, some advertised films – especially Horror-based thrillers – just don’t seem to resonate with potential audiences these days.
A case could seriously be made on the fact that the present age offers just too many entertainment alternatives. With the dwindling influence of the silver screen, purveyors of good and bad fiction have turned to streaming outlets to host their wares; and I think the result is that no one really knows where to turn for just a reliable middle-of-the-road experience any longer. When studios bury some of the more interesting fare behind a pay wall and invest less money in general advertising, the marketplace doesn’t quite know what to do with some efforts – nor do audiences know to look – and the end result is that serviceable stories vanish ‘like tears in rain,’ a real damn shame if you ask me.
Now, none of that is to suggest in any way to – ahem – 2024’s Bone Lake from director Mercedes Bryce Morgan and screenwriter Joshua Friedlander is ‘the cat’s meow.’ In the realm of the domestic chiller, about the best one can say might be is that – even though we’ve seen a good deal of it before – the percolating sexual tension of two couples exploring what makes them ‘tick’ is arguable tame and passé. There isn’t a great parade of skin here, nor is there any overkill of emphasis on high eroticism. What there is remains, at best, is some smoldering temptation and – come the big finish – even that turns out to be a bit one-sided (two-sided) when lust turns to blood lust on the part of two homicidally mischievous hosts.
Diego (played by Marco Pigossi) and Sage (Maddie Hasson) have reached an impasse in their relationship. As he’s been secretly nurturing the desire to become a novelist (a decidedly overused trope in all of filmdom if there ever were), she’s had to step up and become the breadwinner; and the result has placed a great deal of strain on their interpersonal dealings. Deciding it’s time for him to pop the question, Diego has arranged for them to spend some time away at one of those famous airBNBs, and he’s chosen an idyllic mansion (of sorts) set deep in the quiet outdoors. It’s the picture-perfect setting for which to build a romantic escape, and our couple seems destined to be ‘righting the ship’ onto its next voyage, as they say.
However …
It doesn’t take long for another couple – Will (Alex Roe) and Cin (Andra Nechita) – to show up and throw a man-sized monkey wrench into Diego’s amorous agenda. They announce that they, too, have booked the place for their own vacation; and – lo and behold – no one can seem to get the owner on their cell phones in order to make the situation right. After a bit of uncomfortable back-and-forth between the two couples, they reach the agreement that the home is definitely large enough to host all four, and they’ll all work in unison to make the best of the turn of events.
Just the other days, I remarked in a review that Horror – unlike so many other types of stories – chiefly works best because its characters are fundamentally stupid. Almost instantly, there are signs which suggest that nothing about the psychology of these two vastly different couples is compatible, but Diego and Sage – trying very hard to be the responsible and thoughtful adults they’ve kinda/sorta come to be – continually look the other way inadvertently allow themselves to be beclowned by these younger whippersnappers. Of course, these moments of personal indecisiveness are narratively meant to underscore that perhaps our two leads aren’t as morally grounded as we – the audience – and they – the characters – think they are; but it’s all a ruse to basically give Will and Cin the space they need to ramp up their emotional mind games to the point wherein they can blossom into homicide. Yes, they’re actually the two behind it all – they’re orchestrated this whole shebang to be nothing more than a killing game – and any intelligent person would notice this at the outset.
Still, it’s easy to set aside some of Bone Lake’s predictability because under Morgan’s direction things keep moving forward though occasionally at a snail’s pace. Some of the shortcomings is owed to the fact that – well – all of the eroticism winds up being really tame, so much so that viewers aren’t even really titillated with any screen couplings. Instead, watchers are left more often than not with a sense of ‘did they or didn’t they?’ cross that sexual threshold. Though we’re treated to some footage of Diego and Sage rutting on the living room floor in the story’s set-up, the sexiness turns surprisingly PG-rated after that, leaving the lion’s share of it to the imaginations of we voyeurs on the other side of the screen.
Seriously: if you’re going to build up to absolutely no relevant payoff, then why bother with overwrought eroticism in the first place?
I suspect that the answer would be that Bone Lake was never really intended about the sex at all, only using it and the prospects of it in an erotic thriller for a bait-and-switch. Friedlander’s story means to explore relationships between sexual partners but not about the loving act itself even though a great amount of screen time I spent in discussions about coitus. Clearly, Sage is no longer satisfied by Diego (we’re shown as much). Undoubtedly, Sage has been unfaithful to Diego (we’re told as much). Also, the film never effectively explains why she was gone so long with Will privately in the car if I’m being honest (we’re never clear on what happened). Consequently, I’m left wondering, “Why the persistent misdirection if the sex stuff ultimately doesn’t matter?” Is it just because ‘sex sells?’ Well, then why is there no sex in your sexual thriller?
To their credit, actors Roe and Nechita manage to build a level of palpable slime that gives their characters the kind of undercurrent needed to pull off their menacing twist in the last act. While I wasn’t exactly won over with what they did with the turn to villainy – it’s all rather predictable from that point forward – they still imbue their presence as bloodthirsty killers with a kind of B-movie schmaltz. Pigossi feels a bit out of his depth here, and I think some of it is owed to the fact that Diego never quite felt like anything more than a screenwriter’s creation; though he goes through all the necessary moves, he still looks a bit dead in the eyes in critical moments, leaving me confused as to whether or not the actor bought into the role. But Hasson really delivered something worth watching in all of her scenes, grounding Sage in a kind of earthiness that felt both relatable and real. As characters go, I cared for her survival … even though the film’s closing scene strongly suggests that not even finally having a ring on her finger isn’t enough to cure the malaise from which she suffers, sexually or otherwise.
Bone Lake (2024) was produced by LD Entertainment. Presently, the film shows available for viewing or (digital) purchase via a variety of streaming platforms. (FYI: I used Netflix for this review.) As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are largely effective, boasting cinematography and general aesthetics common to Horror. There’s nothing grand and/or monumental in here, but it’s equally refreshing to some of us when a film simply sticks to what it is, namely a thriller. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration. There’s a nice, grounded performance from Maddie Hasson; and here’s hoping the lady gets more work!
Recommended, but …
It helps going in to Bone Lake (2024) to conceptually know what it is you’re about to experience. While some of the publicity hints that there’s a background larger than what is here, Lake is vastly more an intimate psychological mind-trip, the kind that – ahem – largely relies on dumb characters not knowing when to cut and run much less effectively defend themselves when those moments arise. Those complaints aside, it still rather efficiently wraps up its bloody trials when and where those engaged would hope it should; and it even manages to squeeze in a question of what to think about with a single but much protracted closing scene.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Bone Lake (2024) as I viewed it entirely via my very own subscription to Netflix.
-- EZ
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