Bone Lake Is Drowning In Its Own Ambitions

It’s wild that a double-booked vacation rental remains such an unexplored frontier after Zach Cregger’s Barbarian. However, it wasn’t the first to tell a scary story in the dark corners of a shared space; the 2022 film capitalized on the dread and the “WTF”-inducing weirdness of Airbnb in ways no other horror film had. That said, it quickly spirals into a premise much deeper than two people forced to share a bed and breakfast. Bone Lake, meanwhile, tackles that concept from every weird angle... but it might also reveal how little there actually is to explore.

Unlike Barbarian’s genre-bending premise, it’s a little easier to guess what’s in store here. Bone Lake strives to bring back the splashy erotic thrillers that were equal parts self-aware and titillating, and it does fulfill that promise right off the bat. It all begins with a naked couple running terrified through the forest, trying (and eventually failing) to escape from their sadistic, crossbow-wielding hunter. The cat-and-mouse chase is a twisted cross between Naked and Afraid and The Most Dangerous Game: when the man abandons his girlfriend to make a real run for it, he catches an arrow in the nether region, a killshot rendered in extreme, bloody close-up. His other half, meanwhile, trips and impales herself on a spiky log. It’s campy and gratuitous, a pitch-perfect subversion of the hypersexual cabin in the woods thrillers Bone Lake is drawing from. If only the rest of the film had the courage to commit to the bit.

Shortly after that first unnamed couple bites the dust, Bone Lake introduces us to another. Sage (Maddie Hasson) and Diego (Marco Pigossi) are a couple at a crossroads: she’s giving up her career as a journalist to support him as he quits his teaching job to write a novel. That shift in their dynamic has made most aspects of their relationship — including and especially the sex — sour on the vine. It doesn’t help that Diego, for all his earnest passion, seems subpar in nearly every area that matters. His writing is so-so, and he’s got no clue that Sage is also faking it in the bedroom. But that’s nothing that a little getaway can’t fix, right? That’s what both are hoping for when they arrive at the destination that locals really call “Bone Lake,” not because it’s where couples come to rekindle a physical spark (though there’s probably plenty of that too), but because of all the human remains found on its shore.

Things start promisingly enough for Sage and Diego when they check into their rental, a sprawling mansion perched at the edge of Bone Lake. But soon, they discover they’re not alone: their spot has been double-booked for the weekend, and with no other hotels for miles, they have no choice but to share their space with the much hotter, much friskier Cin (Andra Nechita) and Will (Alex Roe). The mansion is certainly big enough for two couples, and Will and Cin make for excellent company. They each help Sage and Diego turn off their brains and let loose; with booze and endorphins flowing, they even become confidants, coaching the lapsed lovers through the bumps in their relationship.

Tentative trust gives way to seemingly harmless flirtation, but before long, it’s clear that Will and Cin are actively trying to seduce Sage and Diego. Bone Lake leans hard into emotional manipulation and lusty, if clichéd, mind games, testing the strength of Sage’s bond with Diego with a never-ending bout of “he said, she said.” It’s a far cry from the film’s blood-soaked statement of intent, and it’s not exactly the most compelling pivot. Things certainly keep moving, but there’s not enough intrigue to keep us invested. Sage and Diego aren’t on the strongest ground if a potential tryst could shatter their relationship — so why are we rooting for them? What do Will and Cin really stand to gain by destroying their bond?

As Bone Lake eventually reveals, it’s more than just an infidelity kink. The skeletons in Will and Cin’s closet bring the film back to the camp originally teased in those opening moments, but it’s not quite enough to make Bone Lake feel like a return to form. Director Mercedes Bryce Morgan does eventually reclaim the over-the-top gore and lewd black comedy that she opened the film with, breaking out the chainsaws and axes and bookending this misadventure with the same needle drop, a little diddy called “Sex and Violence.” The punk rock tune repeats its titular phrase, and nothing but that phrase, over a hypnotic drum beat. It broadcasts Morgan’s intentions clearly enough, but is it enough just to say a film is sexy and violent? The psychosexual thrillers that Bone Lake wants to emulate were never all that deep, and nor does this film have to be — but it could stand to go all the way with its premise. Otherwise, it becomes the butt of its own joke.

Bone Lake opens in theaters on October 3.