One chilly winter morning, I embarked upon a cinematic odyssey, delving into the enigmatic realm of Falcon Lake directed Charlotte Le Bon. This journey unfolded within the hallowed confines of a theatre brimming with a legion of youthful souls, their presence reluctantly beckoned by the siren call of their French pedagogue. The ensuing tableau presented a striking and arresting juxtaposition, as adolescent spectators seemingly unwound the reels of a narrative ostensibly tailored to their burgeoning sensibilities.

Yet, beneath this veneer, I discerned a truth far more profound. It became unmistakably clear that Falcon Lake was not a cinematic offering meticulously calibrated for this tender age group, which I will demonstrate in this film review. Rather, it emerged as an opus purposefully crafted for those of us whose fervid and hormone-drenched teenage years have gracefully transitioned into the sepia-toned annals of the past.

The Heart of Falcon Lake: Memory and Time

Indeed, Falcon Lake unfurls as an eerie and contemplative ode to the intricacies of memory—a tapestry woven from a collection of loosely tethered vignettes that defy the confinement of neat, logical coherence. Perhaps, they embrace such cohesion only with the faintest of embraces. Here, the conventional narrative arc recedes, purposefully stepping into the background, yielding centre stage to the haunting spectre of memories themselves—a profound reflection of the film’s thematic essence.

In essence, Falcon Lake invites us to embark upon a captivating voyage, a cerebral pilgrimage through the labyrinthine corridors of memory. Within this surreal journey, the linearity of time blurs, and the past commingles with the present in a mesmerizing dance, inviting us to ponder the enigmatic nature of human recollection.

Character Dynamics: Bastien and Chloé’s Journey

Under the directorial prowess of Charlotte Le Bon, Falcon Lake emerges as a poignant coming-of-age narrative, intricately weaving the threads of summer romance within the ominous backdrop of a remote wilderness shrouded in unsettling mysteries. A spectral presence purportedly haunts the secluded expanse of Quebec’s enigmatic lake, where a 13-year-old named Bastien (Joseph Engel) finds himself amidst a familial retreat at a cabin owned by close acquaintances.

Their visit pivots around the long-awaited reunion with Bastien’s mother, Violette (Monia Chokri), and her lifelong confidante, Louise (Karine Gonthier-Hyndman), who arrives bundled with her aloof 16-year-old daughter, Chloé (Sara Montpetit). Bastien and his younger sibling, Titi (Thomas Laperrière), are designated to share a bedroom with the latter.

While a mere span of a few years separates Bastien from Chloé, the cavernous chasm in maturity levels between a 13-year-old boy and a 16-year-old girl transcends the expanse of even the most boundless summer lake from their shared childhood. Initially, Chloé harbours a thinly veiled impatience toward Bastien, who finds himself poised betwixt the preservation of the sweet and considerate demeanour of the older brother he has always been and the allure of a worldlier, more nonchalant young adulthood he aspires to embrace. Yet, as they gradually unearth the hidden layers within each other’s personas, a natural alchemy begins to flourish between them.

Chloé metamorphoses into Bastien’s mentor, offering guidance not solely in traversing the surrounding landscape but, more crucially, in navigating the intricate labyrinth of adolescence. She introduces him to the realm of soirées, tantalizing him with the allure of alcohol, and perpetually teases him with an unwavering and enigmatic charm.

Cinematic Imagery: The Visual Poetry and Haunting of Falcon Lake

Despite the simplicity of the plot, certain images from the film indelibly etched themselves into my consciousness—a visage of the Falcon Lake area, suspended in a timeless and transitory liminality, a space betwixt and between. Lengthy shots of the lake, an unanticipated apparition of a mysterious figure, and the ethereal costume of a ghost—merely a sheet with a crude aperture for eyes, donned by Chloé—all beckon us into the realm of the spectral. The film masterfully weaves an intangible presence that lurks beneath the surface of the celluloid, a presence invisible yet palpable, thereby attaining the status of pure cinematic poetry.

Chloé adamantly maintains the belief that the lake is enveloped in a spectral enigma, haunted by a restless spirit resulting from a tragic demise within its depths. She asserts that this ethereal presence is not merely a fleeting sensation but an intensely palpable force, occasionally manifesting itself through eerie incidents where unsuspecting individuals feel ghostly hands clasping at their legs, endeavouring to pull them into the murky abyss below. One might ponder if this narrative is merely the fanciful concoction of a teenage mind, starved for excitement and intrigue. Regardless of our inability to substantiate the claims regarding the lake’s otherworldly inhabitant, it is undeniable that an aura of the supernatural pervades the ambience of the film, casting an enigmatic shadow over its narrative.

The film Falcon Lake emerges as a captivating amalgamation of The Ghost Story (2017), Aftersun (2022), and the enigmatic allure of Twin Peaks (1990-1991). With the deft touch of Le Bon’s dreamlike pacing and Kristof Brandl’s evocative cinematography, the opening scenes portraying a nuclear family embarking on a lakeside vacation unfurl like a long-buried memory resurfacing before our very eyes. Captured on 16mm film, the warm summer hues imbue the natural surroundings with a vivid palette, transforming the lake into a resplendent shade of cerulean, contrasting strikingly against the fiery orange canvas of the sky. These visuals conjure an enchantment that evokes the nostalgic sentiments of an adolescent summer, and the very materiality of the film itself—the 16mm celluloid—serves as a ghostly relic harkening back to a pre-digital era.

Personal Reflection: Echoes of Past Summers

I couldn’t help but reminisce about my own summer sojourn near a small lake nestled at the obscure juncture of the German and Dutch borders. The name of the diminutive town eludes my memory, but the recollection of floating serenely upon the lake’s surface remains vivid. Sunlight, like liquid gold, cascaded upon the water’s undulating expanse, casting a spell of radiance. These images bore an uncanny resemblance to the evocative scenes I encountered in Falcon Lake —a mere echo of a distant memory. That summer holiday also bore witness to my inaugural heartbreak and the utterance of certain embellished truths, a futile attempt at bolstering my self-perceived coolness. It seems the echoes of our past experiences reverberate through the most unexpected conduits of art.

Concluding Thoughts of the Film Review of Falcon Lake: An Unsettling Denouement

However, amidst my captivation, I found myself gradually succumbing to a sense of restlessness. Following the screening, the group of teenagers who shared the theatre with me ardently endeavoured to unearth some narrative profundity within the film’s conclusion. Alas, they met an unsatisfying denouement, as Falcon Lake chose to conclude its tale with a subtlety that mirrored the closing chapters of a summer holiday—a quiet exit, leaving us with a lingering sense of unfulfillment, much like the wistful ache that accompanies the end of an idyllic season.