6.9/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 6.9/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. The Lake Calls remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like movies that move at the speed of a growing moss and don’t mind if half the dialogue is just people staring into the distance, you might actually get a kick out of The Lake Calls. It’s got that specific, heavy European gloom that feels like it’s trying to swallow you whole. If you need pacing, constant action, or, you know, a story that makes sense without a manual, you’re going to hate this. Stay away unless you have a high tolerance for slow, wet tension.
The whole thing feels like it was filmed inside a cloud. There’s this constant, damp atmosphere around the lake that makes everyone look a little bit miserable, and honestly? Same.
I found myself thinking about Storm Over Asia while watching this, mainly because of that same intense, slightly suffocating focus on the landscape. Except where that film felt like a political hammer, this one feels like a wet wool blanket.
There is this one scene near the dock—you'll know it because the lighting gets weirdly sharp for about ten seconds—where the editing just gives up. It lingers on an empty boat for so long that I started wondering if the camera operator had just walked off for a cigarette break. It’s awkward, but in a way that feels strangely honest.
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely a coherent story half the time. But there’s something about the way the lake is treated like an actual character—a mean, soggy antagonist—that kept me watching. It’s weirdly hypnotic, even when it’s boring as hell. 🌫️
I don't think I'll ever watch it again. I might think about that dock scene, though. It was just so... quiet.