Eden Lake Review
The ironically titled Eden Lake is anything but ironic in its execution. A horror genre hybrid, that seamlessly mixes elements of backwoods horror (Deliverance, Southern Comfort, Calvaire), slasher (Friday 13th, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) and yuppie-in-peril movies (Pacific Heights, Single White Female) it would be easy for such a film to be smothered under the weight of its influences. But James Watkins' (writer of 2002's My Little Eye and 2007's Gone) directorial debut anchors it all to a very topical, very British threat and tabloid favourite, the 'hoodie' – a clothing based moniker beloved of the British media to represent all that is 21st century yob culture. Watkins transports these typically urban pests to the countryside, and in doing so relieves them of their hoods but none of their menace.
Steve (Michael Fassbender) and Jenny (Kelly Reilly) leave their upmarket Maida Vale neighbourhood in London to head off for a romantic getaway in the country where Steve plans to propose. But as soon as they hit the provinces, the unease sets in. The local pub is a chillingly familiar re appropriation of The Slaughtered Lamb from An American Werewolf In London, but here there's no light relief from the child beating mothers and raging domestic arguments that characterise this B&B. Their destination, a picturesque former quarry, is due to become a gated community called Eden Lake, something the locals are none too pleased about and not shy of expressing. Heightening the sheer awfulness of what's to follow, our couple are actually as opposed to the new development as the locals, mocking the very concept. Once settled into their supposedly idyllic break, they quickly encounter a group of knife-wielding teens and their rottweiler. As the lakeside tranquillity is disrupted Steve makes a reasoned stand, but the confrontation leads to a succession of increasingly violent encounters.
From the outset Watkins routes the horror in a very real social milieu. As the couple leave London, we hear radio debates surrounding disaffected youth, all too familiar for anyone who's witnessed the recent media obsession with knife crime in the UK. As a teacher, Jenny also has more than a passing interest, but her skills prove redundant in facing the coming onslaught. Steve pushes back on the gang despite Jenny's protests, asking what would happen if everyone just “let it go” (a Battle Royale type situation maybe?). He refuses to be be “bullied away by a bunch of 12 year olds”. This is in no small part what makes Eden Lake so successful - these are “just kids” and rather than being chased by the subterranean ghouls of the similarly woodland-bound The Descent, or a near-indestructible Michael Myers figure, Steve and Jenny are hounded by nothing more than a group of antisocial yobs. Sure, these are hoodies to the extreme, but nothing of what happens here feels beyond the realms of possibility.
If (American) horror in the late 60s and early 70s was a reaction to the social and cultural impact of the Vietnam War, here Watkins makes his concerns explicit and immediate. The distanced safety of a masked, supernatural, or caricatured evil is not afforded us here. Rather the fear originates far closer to home, and it's easy to identify with Steve's frustrations during early encounters with the gang. Vilified but not demonised, the treatment of the gang members themselves (Somers Town's Thomas Turgoose amongst them in a supporting role) is effective as tensions emerge within the group, and the denouement suggests a staggering confusion of moral and personal identity that prevents us from dismissing them as abstract evil.
Reilly and Fassbender's relationship is wonderfully played, making you route for them as a couple rather than just the 'heroes'. Their bond is genuinely touching without reverting to the crassness that might hamper a lesser film. Reilly's performance as the final girl is superb; tough, sexy, compassionate and entirely believable – she's no scream queen, yet there's more than whiff of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as she runs through the woodland foliage in a pretty frock. The grainy shooting style that has become de rigueur for modern horror also recalls the 70s heyday of the genre, as does the entirely straight playing of the material. Despite the genre trappings, the gang are a very modern threat, recording their deeds on a camera phone – the ephemeral nature of which is cleverly exposed at the end, suggesting a moral bankruptcy that makes the crimes themselves as easily erasable as the videos depicting them.
Watkins' film is gory, relentlessly tense, and immaculately paced. He rarely lets the audience guess the next move, which leads to some truly shocking moments. Terrifying is a term all too frequently used in relation to horror movies, but here it seems almost an understatement.
