The Lodge is a slow-burn psychological horror that slips under your skin and stays there, icy and unnerving. Directed by Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala, the film is less about jump scares and more about the terrifying weight of emotional trauma—how guilt, isolation, and belief can unravel a fragile mind.
After the sudden death of their mother, siblings Aidan and Mia are sent to a remote winter cabin with Grace, their father’s new fiancée. Grace has a mysterious past rooted in religious fanaticism and childhood trauma, and the kids want nothing to do with her. When a snowstorm cuts them off from the outside world and their father leaves for work, the tension between them begins to boil.
Then things go wrong. Very wrong.
Heat vanishes. Food disappears. And strange events suggest the cabin is no longer safe—or real. As days stretch into paranoia, Grace’s grip on reality begins to slip. The children aren’t sure if she’s dangerous—or if something far worse is happening to all of them.
The Lodge traps you in its atmosphere: cold, quiet, and unrelenting. The film is meticulously crafted, with a muted color palette and long, still shots that emphasize the claustrophobic isolation. Riley Keough delivers a haunting performance as Grace, a woman haunted by her past and tormented by forces she may not understand—or control.
This is not horror for the faint of heart. It’s horror rooted in grief, in trust, and in how quickly the line between victim and villain can blur.
Because in the silence of the snow,
The past doesn’t stay buried.
It waits.
