Film Review: The Lodge

Sometimes a single key performance can hold together even the most wobbly narrative. Such is the case for The Lodge, a new horror film from Austrian duo, Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala, who first broke onto the scene with 2014’s Goodnight Mommy. The performance that keeps the film largely afloat is that of Riley Keough. However, the interesting thing about it is that the film takes its time before it even brings her in. Before that, the film sets up on a rather disquieting note.

It opens on the graphic and sudden suicide of Laura (Alicia Silverstone). She’s the wife of Richard (Richard Armitage), a writer who wanted to finalize their divorce, so he could marry Grace (Riley Keough). Their kids – Aiden (Jaeden Martell) and Mia (Lia McHugh) – are devastated, and even months later, they still hold some resentment towards Grace. This only becomes more awkward when Richard decides to take everyone to their family lodge for Christmas, and Grace will be watching the kids for the first few days while Richard finishes up some business before joining them.

Grace is far more enthusiastic about the idea of getting to bond with the kids than they are. They barely talk to her, and when they do, it’s something condescending or petty. Of course, there is another side that freaks out the kids, and that is Grace’s past. She is the sole survivor of a Christian cult that committed mass suicide, and it’s an event that continues to haunt her. Naturally, once they settle into the lodge, things quickly take a turn. A combination of strange visions, voices, and the disappearance of everyone’s belongings begin to put everyone on edge.

Franz and Fiala certainly know how to set a mood, and keep it sustained for the entire runtime. They do a wonderful job at conveying the isolation of the lodge, which is enhanced by the snowy environment. The windows in all the interior shots are a blinding white, giving an unnerving, almost dreamy quality. The moment where the characters watch The Thing on TV is a bit on the obvious side, but the atmosphere is effectively established nonetheless. The moments of shock are hard hitting, and the moments that need to be emotionally distressing are very, very upsetting to watch unfold.

So, while that all seems nice and good, the reason The Lodge doesn’t ultimately come together for me is simple that it doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression. It feels like a collection of interesting ideas and visual motifs that don’t really build up to anything unique or all that meaningful. The oft repeated religious symbols that appear throughout the film don’t seem to add up to much, despite faith being such a major aspect of the story. And there is also a doll house in Mia’s room in her home that the film cuts to on occasion, which seems to be a perfect replica of the lodge. Why? I’m still not entirely sure. The atmosphere works, but it does become a bit monotonous after a certain point. There are some twists and turns, one of which I thought was pretty fun, but it the narrative ultimately chooses to go down a path that feels fairly conventional and uninteresting to me.

At the end of the day, what ultimately keeps The Lodge going is the rock solid performances from the cast. Everyone serves their part, but Martell and McHugh do some great work, especially considering the nature of the material they’re working with. But it is Keough’s film when it’s all said and done. While she never openly discusses her past, she embodies the trauma of it so well through her actions and expressions. Her paranoia, her fear, and her state-of-mind once we reach the final stretch, it’s all palpable. And the way the filmmakers toy with the dynamic between the audience’s sympathy for any given character, depending on how the story goes, is really compelling. There is a lot going for this film, but for a story that aims to be the feel-bad movie of 2020, the most emotion I could ever muster up is a mildly satisfied shrug.