While the script lacks depth, the performances at the heart of A House on the Bayou help bolster the well-shot but ultimately underwhelming Blumhouse Television horror/thriller.
A House on the Bayou focuses on the troubled marriage of perfectionist real estate agent Jessica (Angela Sarafyan) and college professor John (Paul Schneider). After discovering an affair between John and one of his students, the pair take a family trip with their teenage daughter Anna (Lia McHugh) to a beautiful home in the Louisiana Bay in an attempt to salvage their marriage. Despite the isolation, they encounter two mysterious figures -- a young man named Issac (Jacob Lofland) and his openly judgemental Grandpappy (Doug Van Liew). While Issac takes a clear interest in Anna, Grandpappy warns John that something is amiss in his vacation with various hints that something is off about Jacob.
A House on the Bayou's setting stays mostly within the home, relying on John and Jessica's drama to ratchet up the film's tension. After Issac and Grandpappy arrive to share a meal with the family, the pair seems too knowledgeable about the couple. As various twists tease the identity of Issac, all veneer of civility is torn aside between John and Jessica, leaving them as hostile to one another as they are to their surprisingly threatening guests. At its core, A House on the Bayou is a straightforward morality story, reveling in the repercussions of dishonesty. There are a lot of elements in the film that would have worked better if given the breathing room to land. However, the plot never fully develops its themes.
Written and directed by Alex McAulay, A House on the Bayou delivers an uneven script. At times, its twists come out of the left field and are confusing. What hurts the personal story is that its characters -- particularly John -- don't feel three-dimensional. The film's dramatic moments work, largely thanks to the talented cast, notably Sarafyan as Jessica. While most of the characters are one-note in their motivations and choices, Sarafyan finds exhausted humanity under the self-imposed layers of aggressive defiance that make her a complicated and compelling character.
Schneider, McHugh, and Lofland all do solid work with what they've been given, but their characters pale in comparison to the layers in Sarafyan's performance. However, McAulay has better luck from the director's chair -- framing the titular house on the Bayou as inviting and claustrophobic at the same time. Notably, the director finds little visual beats that add to the unsettling air of the narrative. There's some exciting cinematography from Lyn Moncrief that livens up the plot, and McAulay consistently finds a way to make the meandering story look good.
A House on the Bayou can't decide what the core message of the film is. It's a simple story about life crumbling apart only faster due to outside influence, and it could have been more effective if it'd put aside the various twists to focus on exploring the characters entrapped in this heartbreaking story.