A Lake

The handheld camera in Grandrieux’s snowbound third feature spends much of its time trembling ferociously as it captures the movements of its isolated, bewildered protagonists. Is it cold? Is it scared? Is it awestruck? Such small mysteries abound in this taxing – though transcendent – study of love and family in hazardous climes, as a young, epileptic woodcutter living with his sister, brother and blind mother has to deal with the prospect of solitude when a strange young man comes to visit. With a soundtrack that largely consists of heavy breathing and many of the interior scenes photographed in near pitch darkness, this is certainly not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, but to those with a taste for cinema that delivers raw feeling via elaborate and tersely fashioned mise en scène, it’s an absolute must.