Eden Lake

Films, as any woolly headed liberal might tell you, are never irresponsible even if the people who watch them sometimes are. It is difficult, nonetheless, not to cock an eyebrow at the alarmist sentiments which underpin this latest coagulate of killer-Chav ‘torture porn’. Eden Lake seems to shout out for the swift return of the birch, the stocks and the gallows. Where are your children? Are they out terrorising their social betters?
Their betters, in this instance, are Kelly Reilly and Michael Fassbender. She’s a respectable kindergarten teacher. He’s the respectable owner of a Range Rover. As the film opens, they leave civilisation behind in search of a romantic weekend in a tent by a lake. His intention is to propose, but their rural idyll is soon ruined by a gang of teen hoodlums and their witticisms; “You looking at my tits?”
They wake up, after a night of low level intimidation, to find their tyres slashed. Complaints to local parents fall on deaf, hostile ears. Later, the couple’s possessions are stolen and a disastrous stand-off sees them playing The Most Dangerous Game in a disused park. Their rowdy adolescent pursuers, meanwhile, are less interested in killing their prey than in inflicting the most horrific tortures.
Writer-director James Watkins displays no little talent here. His sense for timing, suspense and horror is impeccable. But it’s difficult to see how anyone could love this unlovely film. Like Funny Games, Eden Lake concerns itself with anti-bourgeois attacks. But unlike Michael Haneke’s film, the gratuitous use of violence serves no purpose.
It’s all well and good to pile on the gore if, like Eli Roth, you have a flair for the fantastic, an icky sense of humour and are fully schooled in the dark arts of movie macabre. Sadly, Mr. Watkins fails to understand the most fundamental rule of the genre; horror equals morality play. You can get away with just about anything provided you make things right.
The lack of a satisfactory coda is still less troubling than Eden Lake’s class politics; the film’s disquieting ‘us and them’ attitude could make the keenest ASBO pushers at the Daily Mail look like raving commies. No wonder our impeccably liberal classification board (IFCO) felt the need to slap this with an 18 certificate and a warning that “Some viewers may find the content very unsavoury and without redeeming features.” ‘Some’, in this context, dear reader, means anyone who isn’t Charles Manson.