THE LAKE HOUSE
By Steve Biodrowski
This is a fantasy romance with a time-travel twist. A young doctor named Kate Forster (Sandra Bullock) moved out of a glass house overlooking a lake and leaves a letter in the mailbox intended for the next occupant, asking that her mail be forwarded. Architect Alex Wyler (Keanu Reeves) moves in, finds the letter, and responds. The catch is that Forster moved out in 2006, but Wyler arrives in 2004.
How can they be exchanging letters across the years? The film never bothers with science-fiction explanations about the nature of time; instead, it relies on the unexplained appearance of a mysterious dog, who befriends both characters at different times and coaxes them along at significant junctures, to suggest some kind of angelic oversight. The audience is simply supposed to buy into the premise and enjoy the love story that it engenders, without thinking too much about whether it makes any sense. Which is a good thing, because the fantasy conceit is riddled with holes. Two years is simply not a big enough gap to be a significant impediment to the two characters getting together. Neither one thinks to Google the other's name or even bothers to look it up in a phone book; they rely only on their correspondence to remain in contact. Eventually, the dog contrives a meeting between Wyler and Forster in 2004, but the problem is that this is before Forster has moved into the titular Lake House, so she knows nothing of Wyler, who is afraid to say anything for fear of sounding crazy. Eventually, they do the obvious: agree on a date in Forster's time when they will meet for a date, but Wyler never shows up. About this time, the audience starts to get ahead of the star-crossed pair, because it is apparent that no minor incident would have interfered with Wyler's arrival. Then you might start to wonder about the unidentified man who was struck by a bus earlier in the film, his face never seen, and you don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to put two and two together... The problem is not the incidents themselves but the way the characters seem so slow to consider the possibilities and figure out how to deal with them. The film relies almost entirely on the chemistry of the two stars, and upon the sentimentality embedded in the story's basic idea, to hold onto the audience's heartstrings. In this regard, THE LAKE HOUSE has to be considered a success. Despite the logical inconsistencies inherent in time travel stories, the film works as a wistful romance. It is no masterpiece, but it is sweet and even moving at times. Reeves and Bullock sell the relationship, even though the story keeps them from sharing the screen most of the time. (Director Agresti compensates with some split screen shots and other scenes in which they appear in the frame together, their voice-overs reading text from the letters they send to each other). It all builds to a cornball conclusion that walks right into the usual time travel paradox problems, with Forster sending a message into the past that will (she hopes) change the course of events as she knows them. The whole thing feels like a bit of a cheat in order to provide an obligatory happy ending, and it raises all kinds of questions about the impact upon the rest of the world. The film doesn't answer these questions, nor is the audience supposed to care. Ultimately, the film presents a view of reality that can almost be described as a sort of dual solipsism focused on the two leads: it's all about the two lovers -- their selves, their relationship, their perception -- and the rest of the world can take care of itself.
