The House Across the Lake (1954)

Directed by Ken Hughes; produced by Anthony Hinds

Mark Kendrick (Alex Nicol) is a successful author whose success has run out. Stuck in a bungalow on Lake Windermere, trying and failing to write a novel that has already been promised to a publisher, Kendrick is invited to a party hosted by Carol Forrest (Hillary Brooke) at her house on the other side of the lake. Kendrick quickly falls victim to Carol’s charms, despite becoming friends with her husband, Beverly (Sydney James). But Carol has plans that don’t involve Beverly, and Kendrick isn’t sure they involve him, either.

A lukewarm illicit-romance blends with an equally lukewarm crime story to make The House Across the Lake merely mediocre. Some reviews have stated that the film wants to be Double Indemnity, or The Postman Always Rings Twice. While I don’t believe it was trying to be even reminiscent of those better movies, The House Across the Lake nonetheless offers nothing new to the genre.

One of the problems is that Carol is meant to be the sort of woman who captures a man immediately and absolutely. The implication is made that obsession with her is a popular pastime among men. While obsession, like love or hate or any emotion, is subjective, and thus one person cannot always understands what drives another, movies put themselves in difficult positions with such premises. The audience needs to feel or see something of what motivates the subject of the obsession. It has to be credible.

Partly, it’s the writing’s fault. Nothing Carol does is particularly attractive, and much of what she does is repulsive. There is a scene in which Kendrick, narrating the story in flashback, states that he eventually saw a side of the woman at which he had not guessed. The viewer sees a little of it, but there is nothing there that would appeal to anyone. On the other hand, Hillary Brooke does not have the presence or talent to bring such appeal to the screen. She is adequately attractive physically, but not unique. There is no indefinable element that other actresses have given similar roles.

Nicol, for his part, plays Kendrick rather blandly. His personality is the sort that is useful, rather than exciting, and the movie does not adequately convey his writing talent or former success. He comes across as an advertising executive or a chummy salesman, rather than a writer. In fact, making Kendrick a writer with writer’s block is almost pointless. It would have been better, I think, to have allowed his relationship with Carol to impel him to better, more passionate writing, and thus provide a psychological reason why he could not stop seeing her.

The other actors are good, though James may be considered slightly miscast. His working class speech doesn’t fit with the upper class name his character bears. (Beverly, like Vivian and Evelyn, were originally men’s names, given as tributes to people with those surnames, which in turn ultimately derive from places.)  Alan Wheatley, an accomplished stage and radio actor, and who would become reasonably famous as the sheriff of Nottingham in tv’s The Adventures of Robin Hood the year following The House Across the Lake, does very well as a detective inspector.

The location filming helps a little, but isn’t used enough. There is no particular reason why the movie needed to be set in the Lake District. The direction is good but Hughes would do better. In short, The House Across the Lake is ordinary fare that doesn’t offer what many similar but superior movies do.