High Lane

A Fantastic Fest ’10 review



Cast:



Fanny Valette as Chloé



Johan Libéreau as Loïc



Raphaël Lenglet as Guilaume



Nicolas Giraud as Fred



Maud Wyler as Karine



Justin Blanckaert as Anton

Directed by Abel Ferry

Review:

So much for the French being above trying to create their own horror icons. In what is essentially The Mountains Have Eyes, director Abel Ferry’s predictable but effective High Lane (now showing on demand) introduces us to the mute, monstrous Anton.

You have met this deformed, homicidal manic a thousand times before. He lives in an isolated part of the woods and preys upon any unsuspecting fool who enters his territory. Little meat is left on the bones of Anton’s victims after he’s done with them. Not that a search party would find them unless Anton’s lured them to his lair for obvious reasons.

Anton’s hunting ground is on a remote mountain in Croatia. It’s impossible to get to get there while the trail up to the mountain is closed for repairs—unless you happen to be an idiot French tourist with a death wish and looking for trouble. That’s Fred (Nicolas Giraud) in a nutshell. The cocky climber ignores every warning sign and leads his friends up the trail. Friction already exists within the group: Chloé’s (Fanny Valette) ex-boyfriend Guilaume (Raphaël Lenglet) has invited himself along on the weekend getaway to the chagrin of her new love, Loïc (Johan Libéreau). It doesn’t help that Guilaume’s an excellent climber while Loïc can barely make his way up a stepladder without getting faint. So Karine (Maud Wyler) often finds herself trying to keep Loïc calm while Chloé’s busy flirting with Guilaume.

Given the poor state of the trail, Loïc’s worst fears are quickly realized. A rope bridge collapses, almost killing Karine. When a piton comes loose, Loïc, Guilaume and Chloé dangle helplessly from the side of the mountain. These are not just attempts by Ferry to put us on edge long before Anton begins his bloody rampage: everything that happens to the climbers during their ascent is designed to push them toward Anton. Regardless, Ferry stages these breathtakingly photographed life-or-death moments in such gripping fashion that you’re left a little concerned that High Lane‘s peaked too early.

Not to worry. The real fun begins when Anton makes his presence felt by way of the many traps he’s set on the only route back to civilization.

Will all five survive to climb another day? Fat chance. You know Anton’s going to pick most of them off one at time, leaving you to wonder who will be the last to take on Anton. The obvious choice sometimes is the right choice.

If High Lane follows a predictable path, Ferry at least knows how to make things unbearably tense. Much of the action occurs in the dark—be it in the danger-filled woods or Anton’s morgue of a hideaway—but Ferry also doesn’t shy away from shooting High Lane‘s adrenaline rush of an ending in broad daylight. The mountain’s inherent beauty provides a stark contrast to the grisly goings on.

Still, Ferry makes a couple of false moves. The rivalry for Chloé’s affections produces two unbelievable acts of betrayal at a time when survival hinges on strength in numbers. Also, what do you do when you have the rare opportunity to finish off the lunatic who’s trying to have you for dinner? That’s right, you don’t suddenly develop a conscience. It will come back to haunt you. And in High Lane, that’s sadly what happens. It’s one thing for Ferry to think sequel, it’s another to intentionally insult your audience.

Not that Anton is a particularly intriguing addition to the pantheon of one-man killing machines we know and love. As played by Justin Blanckaert, Anton’s the strong, silent type with less personality than Hatchet‘s Victor Crowley. Ferry’s efforts to explain Anton’s past falls short, and he tries to engender some empathy for this barbaric murderer when none should exist.

Yet it’s easy to look past all these shortcomings. Truly American in style and execution, High Lane doesn’t pretend to be anything other than the European answer to The Hills Have Eyes. This isn’t another French envelope-pushing endeavor like High Tension or Inside by any stretch of the imagination. That’s OK. Ferry knows what he’s doing, and for the most part, he does it so well that he puts most of his American counterparts to shame.

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