A dreamy story about two time-separated romantic loons, The Lake House pitches Sandra Bullock (Kate Forster) opposite Keanu Reeves (Alex Wyler) in a love story spanning several years for one (Wyler), mere months for the other (Forster). When Kate leaves her beautiful lake house for better pastures, she slips a letter for the new tenant of the house requesting the would-be tenant to forward her letters, if they fall into the box, to her new address. The recipient of the mild gesture, Wyler is somewhat startled by her letter since nobody has lived in the isolated lake house for years. The two exchange their precarious understanding of what all of this could mean before realizing that they are separated by two years. Wyler, in 2004, is renovating the remote haven, while Kate, in 2006, has left the bliss of the lake house and moved to work as a medical practitioner in nearby Chicago.
You could say paradox is the key in understanding this unrealistic, but engaging movie. The Lake House isn’t about reasoning as you’ve already sensed. You have to feel it. Some may feel it. Some may find it forged and pretentious. Wherever you stand, you’re probably correct. The Lake House falls in those categories of movies that are sure to upsurge polarizing appraisals; some seem to hate it, some just love it. Seems apt for a movie that crushes logic apart and locks viewers in a state of emotional awe thanks to the vivid sentiments oozing out of the screen—perplexing and soothing as a whole, but not entirely flawless.
Alejandro Agresti clasps the themes of relating and retrospection by drawing symmetry between the characters. Their underlying states resemble each other. On one side, Wyler has a bleak relationship with his single-father (Christopher Plummer) and on the other side, Forster is in friendly terms with her single mother (played by Willeke van Ammelrooy). At the same time, both, Wyler and Forster have special confidents—for Wyler it’s his brother (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and for Forster, it’s probably Anna (Shohreh Aghdashloo). These extraneous characters slice up the psychology of the two lovers, which enables viewers to understand the lovingly absurd predicament of Alex and Kate. Yet most importantly, it gives us a peek into their state of mind—and somewhere deep within them, their yearning for something to happen.
These interactions also aid in understanding their backstories. Wyler carrying an unassuming persona of a man unable to forgive his father—his father’s insatiable ambitions derailed their family and ultimately led to the demise of his mother. Forster’s one-dimensional and pragmatic approach to life, although painful at times to watch despite the fanatical, subdued romance not bound to time and space, reflects her glooms and a sturdy predicament of a lonely woman stranded amidst the hustle and bustle of Chi Town.
A very good analogy of the circumstances of Wyler and Forster would be the lake house itself. Located away from the crowd of Chicago, isolated and abandoned, the two lovers share the same tranquility and the innate detachment with their surroundings akin to the lake house. Inside them, one would perhaps find a whirlpool of retrospection alienating them from the present, from reality, hence, forcing their hand into trying something supernatural, something fantastic, which would suggest their out worldly romance. Both people bound by time and space, yet fighting against the same dynamics; how fitting that they discover solace in a true romantic saga straight out from the lands of fairytales. As a tangible story though, it comes from South Korea (a remake of the beautiful Il Mare). As such, the story doesn’t have to make sense logically. In the realm of the movie, the romance beyond time is a fitting complement to the time-ruptured states of two people who build and protect—whether it’s lifeless physical buildings or full-of-life souls within the physical.
Talking of this romantic melancholy, the soulful, almost timeless, background score adds a rich ripple to the movie (music by Rachael Portman), if one could borrow the liberty of relating the movie to the lake itself. Through each swing of musical notes, the viewer moves deeper into the psyche of the story and this makes for a resounding experience of emotional scrutiny—almost awe-inspiring, the visuals on the screen and the musical harmony off the screen collaborating to paint a wonderful drama about relating, waiting, and understanding.
Behind each of these painted frames is one world so abundant and artistic that in itself gives a warm feeling and a stylish look—romantic in its own way. The world of the movie and the cuddling warmth, the wonderful use of vibrant colors, and the cinematography (Alar Kivilo) mainly emphasizing long and mid shots of Chicago’s architecture, whilst creating an atmospheric setting is a major plus and strengthens the already strong spiritual tie with the drama on-screen.
For what it is, the story is loopy and it demands unwavering attention from you to understand what’s happening. Even though the concept is simple, it gets confusing at parts. Some of the major plot points seem unconvincing, which may bug the viewers—but one has to ask, when has romance ever made sense, or when has there been a consistent pattern to romance? I watched Lake House with an open heart and I loved it—probably a bit more than I should have, but it was touching, ironically relatable, and even melting.
It’s not for everybody, but the few takers of this movie would appreciate the mood it creates. Not a classic, but it’s not as bad as the reputation it has garnered. The movie gives a lucid picture of the timelessness of reality, but underlying all of this is the truth of the inevitability of time, and the span of action that only time decides and nothing else.
With a captivating story that is beyond realism and a true saga of hope and redemption, it might just be a perfect date movie, or better, a movie that sums up everything inconsistent about love and relationships. Utterly sweet, mindlessly sensible, dreamy, heartfelt, and oh-so artistic, The Lake House is a guilty pleasure. If you’re dreamy, try this. It’s beautiful.