Lonesome doctor Kate Forster (Sandra Bullock) must move out of the lake house she loves so much but leaves a letter for the new tenant in the mailbox with a forwarding address and a few pointers about the house. When Alex Wyler (Keanu Reeves) who’s father built the house moves in he finds things very different than Kate’s letter has revealed. After a few exchanges of questions and curiosities they realize they are living on the same day two years apart. Wondering how this could be happening (as are we) the mailbox suddenly becomes a conduit for their burgeoning love affair. But attempting to meet face to face is the challenge. Reeves is generally perceived as an action hero with Speed and The Matrix movies cementing his fate. So seeing him in romantic films such as Sweet November makes us cringe a little since he always looks like he’d rather be off chasing buses. While this still remains true in Lake House the stiffness actually works since the character doesn’t have much interaction with his object of affection. And of course pairing up with his Speed co-star is a plus. The emotion pours out of the two. Bullock’s slightly guarded character begins to open up to Reeves’ and the letters which turn into conversations throughout the movie depict the connection nicely. Inspired by the South Korean film Il Mare Argentinean director Alejandro Agresti handles The Lake House with a fine hand. It’s true the time-travel premise is more than a little confusing and riddled with plot holes but one has to keep in the back of their mind The Lake House is meant to take you on a journey of sorts. Agresti does an excellent job of doing this highlighting the scenic beauty and having the characters talk to each other through their words. If you just don’t think about the ridiculousness of it too much you’ll enjoy it.
It’s Christmas Eve in Wichita--the Las Vegas of Kansas--and there’s a mystery (with scant comedy) unfolding: Charlie (John Cusack) a disgruntled attorney and frequent strip-joint patron and his unsavory associate Vic (Billy Bob Thornton) have just embezzled $2 million from Charlie’s mob boss. But they have grown skeptical of one another natch. Also factoring into the equation is Charlie’s undying lust for strip-club owner Renata (Connie Nielsen) with whom he plans to escape once the ice on the roads melts. But she’ll only flee with him if he’s a million bucks richer which leads him back to Vic to sort everything out once and for all. Charlie’s final dealings with Vic lead them both down some slippery roadways but the ice does indeed melt. The only question: Who’ll be fleeing with whom once it does? The lead actors in Harvest are a bit miscast. Cusack’s droll demeanor is utilized once again but ad nauseam. His Charlie ends up being more confused than endearing further highlighting the film’s lack of clarity. Thornton shows promise and continues to fine tune his skills at dark comedy. But his role is limited leaving you wanting more especially since he’s being touted as one of the film’s main selling points. And Oliver Platt--who plays Charlie’s belligerent drinking buddy--has his funny moments but is ultimately too erratic and uncertain in a part tailor-made for indie darling Philip Seymour Hoffman. There is an exception in Harvest from we-didn’t-know-he-could-do-that Randy Quaid. Although he appears late in the film as the merciless bloated mob boss who has just been robbed of several million dollars the actor is entirely memorable. It’s usually tough to successfully mix noir sensibilities with comedy. Director Harold Ramis deserves praise for his bravery and departure but he should’ve simply stuck with his own tried-and-true comedy formula that has guided his career so well. Of course the director’s clout affords him some big-name actors for offbeat roles a prime holiday release date and a script that probably was once quirkily gorgeous. But they’re square pegs now to be put into round holes. The cinematography is wasted which is unfortunate since it nicely underscores the bitterly cold and distant Midwest. The Ice Harvest just proves to be another element foreign to Ramis’ fans who likely covered their eyes and ears when Robert De Niro yelled in Ramis’ Analyze This.