Bone Lake Is a Hot and Heavy Throwback Thriller

If a person somehow stumbles into a screening of Bone Lake without already having some conception of what they’re about to see from its glib title and marketing, the opening seconds should probably get the concept across just fine. An instantaneously nude couple is bounding through the woods as crossbow bolts whiz by, presumably psychopathic killer or killers in hot pursuit. The tone is too absurd to be properly frightening–no one is screaming with terror when a nameless guy gets shot in the balls, but that’s not really the reaction that Bone Lake is trying to elicit anyway. It feels more like the misanthropically tinged cartoon violence of Tucker & Dale vs. Evil or Bodies Bodies Bodies, but Bone Lake isn’t really a proper horror comedy, either. What it is, is a raunchy throwback thriller with no aversion to cheese, a modern take on the sordid little erotic thriller subgenre, albeit without as much genuinely sexual payoff as it would like for you to believe. But that’s okay, given Bone Lake’s deft handle on its characters and entertaining (if obvious) commentary on relationship roles and commitment. It’s not as sordid as it plays at, but Bone Lake is wickedly entertaining nonetheless.
Sage (Maddie Hasson) and Diego (Marco Pigossi) are a couple at a professional crossroads, traveling up to a secluded lakeside rental property (a mansion, truly) for a last hurrah of irresponsibility and sexual reconnection before the dreamer Diego leaves his teaching job to really hunker down and commit to writing his debut novel. Their dynamic is instantly easy to grasp: Diego is an idealistic but potentially hacky would-be writer who has asked longtime girlfriend Sage to shoulder the economic burden for the pair so he can chase his dream, but it’s likewise immediately clear that she doesn’t really believe he’ll be able to pull it off. There is thus an undercurrent of resentment between the two flowing in both directions, with Sage anxious about having to effectively provide for their entire household, and Diego still nursing the confidence-eroding wound of Sage having once cheated on him when the relationship was in its early days, and the fact that she doesn’t really seem to believe in his talent. Their dialogue is well written in establishing their affectionate but sometimes prickly demeanor–referring to a recent sexual dry spell, Sage playfully addresses Diego’s penis directly: “I’ve been meaning to schedule a meeting with him as well.”
And meet they do, somewhat perfunctorily, exemplifying the going-through-the-motions intimacy that is present at least some of the time in nearly any long-term relationship, faked orgasms and all. Presumably, Sage and Diego would have had a perfectly pleasant, not particularly memorable weekend on the lake, if not for the event that really sets Bone Lake in motion: the arrival of a glamorous second couple, Will (Alex Roe) and Cin (Andra Nechita), who have also apparently booked the same property. What’s to be done, other than to share the huge house with a new pair of amiably flirtatious, manipulative, entirely-too-forward pals?
It’s a deeply familiar structure, both in a generalized thriller/erotic thriller sense, and in some of the specifics as well: In particular, Bone Lake is suspiciously similar in several regards to director Duncan Birmingham’s 2022 low-budget Shudder thriller Who Invited Them, right down to certain elements of its eventual twist. That said, Bone Lake is a considerably more lively and entertaining film than the low-budget simplicity of Who Invited Them, with director Mercedes Bryce Morgan demonstrating a knack both for characterization and a sense of movement and visual luridness. Its visual evolution throughout mirrors the steadily rising stakes and feelings of intoxication and temptation, warm shades of orange and blue melding together until they become sickly and unnatural. Morgan utilizes spunky tracking shots frequently, as the characters loom and sneak around the house, or Cin dances with exuberant menace down the hallways. Everyone feels refreshingly alive, right up until they start dying.