Bone Lake (2024) Review

To lay my cards on the table, Bone Lake was one of (or likely, THE) best films at FrightFest in August. A beautiful blend of tension, blood, sexuality and intrigue, it hit all the marks that many other films at the festival missed.

Unassuming at first, it begins with one of the most mundane modern anxieties of all: discovering the idyllic rental you’ve paid a small fortune for… is double-booked. What follows, however, is far from a polite chat with customer services. Mercedes Bryce Morgan takes that instantly recognisable irritation and pushes it into something strangely toxic, stitching together a psychosexual thriller, a relationship autopsy and a weekend-from-hell slasher with panache.

Sage (Maddie Hasson) and Diego (Marco Pigossi) arrive at the lavish lakeside retreat hoping the change of scenery will paper over a few cracks in their relationship. She’s carrying the financial weight of his stalled writing career and nursing resentments she can’t quite voice; he’s either naïve or unwilling to see that everything Sage does is in service of him. Into this fragile dynamic stroll Will (Alex Roe) and Cin (Andra Nechita), a couple who behave like they’ve stepped out of a self-help retreat for weaponised extroverts. Within minutes they’re sharing intimate details, pouring drinks and nudging boundaries. Sage and Diego play along, partly from politeness, partly out of morbid curiosity. Of course, polite curiosity is precisely the trap.

Morgan and writer Joshua Friedlander know their tropes, and they tilt them just enough to keep the audience on edge. The opening scene, a wildly over-the-top burst of naked panic and flying arrows, announces that the film has no intention of staying within the lines. Yet what’s surprising is how quickly the story folds back into a character-centred chamber piece, leaning into the uncomfortable games of seduction, exposure and manipulation played between these two mismatched couples.

The house itself becomes a pressure cooker, and Nick Matthews’ luscious cinematography plays a huge part in that transformation. Rooms glow like slices of giallo decadence. Shadows spill across the décor as if the building is slowly swallowing its guests. Hidden spaces reveal secrets that neither couple is prepared for, and the film uses every inch of its upscale setting to turn the old “cabin in the woods” isolation into something more lavish, seductive and dangerous.

The performances are uniformly strong, but Alex Roe and Andra Nechita tend to steal the show, revelling in their characters’ unnerving charm. They’re the kind of couple whose confidence is so infectious you don’t notice how much information you’ve handed them until it’s too late. Hasson and Pigossi, meanwhile, play their role in grounding the film and give every person watching something they can relate to. They play a pair who love each other but have lost the ability to communicate clearly, and their vulnerability makes the escalating nightmare sting that little bit more.

Bone Lake’s biggest draw is the way it ties its horrors to emotional truths. Relationship resentments, sexual frustration and the nagging ache of feeling unseen all bubble up long before the knives, arrows and secret rooms appear. The violence, when it erupts, is sparingly used but vicious enough to make an impact. Morgan is careful not to drown the story in gore, opting to let tension accumulate through petty slights, loaded glances and the slow erosion of trust. And when the inevitable explosion arrives, it feels earned.

Some of the dialogue is a little on-the-nose, spelling out themes already clear from the performances. And the early reveal in the cold open slightly undercuts later reveals the story would otherwise have delivered with more punch. But Morgan’s direction is confident, stylish and refreshingly playful. The film isn’t as salacious as its marketing suggests, and that mismatch may surprise some viewers, yet the restraint ultimately helps Bone Lake land as something richer and stranger than mere midnight-movie titillation.
Fans will spot hints of Ready or Not and Silly Games throughout, influences that give the film a welcome sense of lineage.

Bone Lake is a surprisingly sharp, often gripping psychosexual thriller that explores how easily relationships can fracture under pressure and how the most innocent of mishaps could lead to a living nightmare. Psychological horror fans should not let this one slip through their net.

Movie Rating:

Bone Lake trailer