The Beach House

A secluded weekend meant to rekindle a young couple’s faltering relationship devolves into a tense, claustrophobic fight for survival when an unforeseen visitor and the nearby marsh begin to exhibit eerie, rapidly escalating signs of infection. The film leans on atmosphere — salt-soaked fog, ominous tides, and small domestic spaces — to amplify paranoia and strain, turning intimate emotional wounds into life-or-death stakes. As physical symptoms spread and rational explanations unravel, the characters are forced to confront not just a microbial threat but their own fears, regrets, and moral compromises.

Blending ecological dread with character-driven drama, the story unfolds through mounting unease and unsettling imagery rather than conventional jump scares, maintaining a slow-burning intensity that keeps the outcome uncertain. The result is a pared-down, moody horror about isolation, the fragility of the body and the bonds that bind — and sometimes break — under pressure.