You can usually count on the French to go all in with the horror genre. Even those turn-of-the-century horror movies not considered part of the New French Extremity—a wave of homegrown cinema that pushes the envelope and then some—offer their own extremes. In the case of Abel Ferry’s High Lane (a.k.a. Vertige), those extremes are of the sports variety.
Although High Lane isn’t the most transgressive French horror movie, it does keep you on edge in other ways. Unlike Wrong Turn (2003), a similarly plotted horror-actioner set outdoors, Ferry doesn’t zoom past the rock climbing. Here, the characters’ plans for scaling the side of a Croatian mountain aren’t immediately dashed by bloodthirsty attackers, whose presence, by the way, goes undetected for a while. Until then, you white-knuckle through other kinds of close calls.
Before the characters become aware of that threat awaiting them at the top of the mountain, High Lane is just an action-adventure movie. Think Cliffhanger but with backwoods killers instead of robbers. That hike to horror isn’t a long one, either; you reach the true destination by the second leg of the story. In the meantime, the nature component is nothing to fast-forward through. Ferry gets the blood pumping well before spilling it.
High Lane probably won’t convince Croatians of its intended locale, due to the movie really being shot in the Alpine region of the French Savoie. Geographical accuracy was not of the utmost importance, though. No, Ferry, who is originally from Savoie, and the writers simply wanted somewhere isolated, high up, and potentially perilous for these unsuspecting thrill-seekers to enter and, for some of them, never leave. If the elevated setting alone doesn’t cause apprehension, then the camerawork may pick up the slack. There are points where the movie lives up to its French title.
Ferry was not oblivious to The Descent’s influence on High Lane; he saw the similarities upon being offered the script. In each movie, unforeseen danger comes from nature, strangers, and even the main characters themselves. There is also the fact that the ostensible protagonist in both stories is burdened with personal trauma; here, Chloé (Fanny Valette) is a nurse who’s plagued with guilt, following the loss of a young patient.
As if her self-blame isn’t enough of a burden, Chloé’s unrelenting ex, Guillaume (Raphaël Lenglet), has tagged along for the trip. The tension between them, plus Chloé’s current boyfriend Loïc (Johan Libéreau), adds to the constant sense of unease. Ferry wisely played on that discomfort, which is felt in quite nearly every minute of the movie. Whether it’s during that awkward car sing-along of Supergrass’ “Alright”, or as everyone is climbing, these men vie for Chloé. At first you might be inclined to side with Guillaume, the more civil of the two, but that opinion will surely change.
All bets are off for safe passage once the characters leave the ground. Loïc’s fear of heights is of concern, but there’s far worse ahead for these daredevils. When the group has barely recovered from Karine’s (Maud Wyler) near-death experience on a footbridge, the trip’s organizer, Fred (Nicolas Giraud), admits the trail they’re after was closed off all this time. (Remember when the spelunkers found out they were in the wrong cave in The Descent?) That confession then signals the story’s horror element to appear, and it does so with a vengeance.
In certain horror movies, nature has been depicted as a sort of cold and unforgiving entity. Trespassing humans, guilty or otherwise, are dealt with in incredible, godlike fashion. In lieu of such karmic and merciless behavior, though, nature in this movie is a little bit kinder. That opinion seems unfounded, given the events of the story. However, the hazardous moments leading up to the reveal of Anton (Justin Blanckaert) and the other killers almost come across as admonitory.
The signs that something worse was in the wind for Chloé and her kind were ever-present. Who better than the mountain would know of what evil lurks there?
The natural horrors are abruptly replaced with manmade ones. Bear traps, arrows, and spike pits take over for steep cliffs and faulty landmarks. That transition may not work for everyone, especially those who wanted to stay on the man-versus-wild side of this movie. Those unhappy viewers will have to settle for the cannibal changeover that, admittedly, doesn’t pack much innovation. The characters stumbling into the lair of their predators, only to then be strung up for torture, smells strongly of movies like Hostel.
In an article called “Why are the French So Good at Horror Films?”, journalist Harriet Williamson valued French horror above, say, American horror because of how the movies prompted real “body responses” during viewing. Particular acts and things are, according to Williamson, “presented in such a way that emotional distance or disinterest is hardly possible”. It must be said that Williamson was referring to specific French horrors, such as Inside and Martyrs—the “hard stuff”, if you will. High Lane, on the other hand, has less ambition than its contemporaries, and it often settles for more straightforward thrills.
In High Lane’s defense, it is never a boring movie. From the original setup to the switchover, Ferry maintains a fairly steady sum of suspense. The outdoorsy scares are more effective, yes, but the homicidal yokels work in a pinch, as well. By the end, the story’s two main ingredients are productively combined into one exciting conclusion. There is even a surprise or two to keep you on your feet.
While this movie never reaches any great heights, it also never falls from them. It’s consistently entertaining from front to end. Being middle of the road doesn’t necessarily equal bad here. Ardent fans of French horror will want to vouch for the best material there is, but even minor movies like High Lane aren’t without their merits, small as they may seem.
