The Winter Lake, 2020.
Directed by Phil Sheerin.
Starring Emma Mackey, Charlie Murphy, Mark McKenna, Michael McElhatton and Anson Boon.
SYNOPSIS:
Elaine (Charlie Murphy) and Tom (Anson Boon) have moved to a remote family farmhouse. Neighbours Ward (Michael McElhatton) and Holly (Emma Mackey) soon become embroiled in the lives of these newcomers, as Tom stumbles on something horrific down by the lake. A secret no one should be forced to keep soon sends ripples through this quiet community, as savage repercussions lead them all down into darkness.
This unrelenting tale of isolation has a dour disposition, bleak outlook and remains oppressively atmospheric throughout. There is minimal respite from a film which prides itself on instilling no joy into proceedings, whilst weighing characters down with depressing dialogue exchanges. The Winter Lake is hard work, hard to watch and keeps audiences at a distance. Writer David Turpin has chosen a repugnant premise, that veers between the macabre and maudlin by way of downright miserable.
Elaine, played with quiet desperation by Charlie Murphy, feels at odds with her surroundings. The reasons for moving into this farmhouse are never made clear, while Anson Boone’s Tom does little to help matters. Their exchanges are charged with a combination of vitriol, contempt and resentment with only the smallest splash of maternal instinct. Rattling around in this bricks and mortar mausoleum, there is a sense of hopelessness which infiltrates every frame.
When they encounter Emma Mackey’s Holly and Michael McElhatton’s Ward things fail to improve. Conversations between Holly and Tom are marred by a discovery which turns their later encounters into awkward affairs, punctuated by an unspoken acknowledgement of intentional wrongdoing. Much of the problem with The Winter Lake arises through its pedestrian pacing, which sucks suspense from any situation.
Scenes feel dragged out rather than engrossing, glacial rather than driven by dramatic gusto and the film suffers. There is no denying the commitment of the principal players, but for some reason it fails to engage. In the opening twenty minutes of this kitchen sink drama Anson Boon dominates exuding a brooding presence. Uncommunicative and self-absorbed, Tom walks around like a primed powder keg waiting to explode.
Across the hall his mother Elaine is hanging on by her fingernails, but rather than dwell on that director Phil Sheerin prefers to focus on Tom’s instabilities. His behavioural quirks and aggressive overreactions haunt every minute of The Winter Lake. This sense of tension only increases when the film examines the complex relationship between their neighbours Ward and Holly. A father and daughter who are fleshed out with few words, fewer actions and a history of unwanted attention. An overly protective demeanour, sudden outbursts of disproportionate violence and an awkward paternal relationship soon begin raising alarm bells.
Emma Mackey and Michael McElhatton work hard to breathe life into this genuinely damaged pairing, yet for everyone here empathy on any level is in short supply. Redemption is not on offer and the pessimism is tangible, only growing in intensity until a shock ending wakes audiences up. An inherent lethargy permeates two thirds of The Winter Lake, meaning that audiences are beyond caring when both barrels finally arrive. This small town drama might broach some contentious issues and feature solid performances, but its oppressive undertones and lacklustre pacing undermine everything else.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Martin Carr
