Photo via IMDb
By Keith Walther | Rose Law Group Reporter
Like a spoiled cup of curdled milk, this sad excuse for a movie will leave you nauseated and running for the exit. “Ice Cream Man” is the latest horror film from Eli Roth, who thinks gratuitous splatter effects are enough to achieve quality entertainment. The absurd storyline, poorly written dialogue, and lame acting do not even qualify this film for B-movie status, so expecting a movie so bad it’s funny would be a serious miscalculation.
It’s almost the end of the school year, and the summer heat begins to set in, making the arrival of The Ice Cream Man (Ari Millen) a welcome sight for all kids in the quaint suburban neighborhood. As they gobble down the frozen treats, the kids enter a trancelike state before turning into homicidal maniacs hellbent on murdering every adult, including their parents. Fortunately for Jared (Charlie Zeltzer), he happens to be lactose intolerant, so it’s up to him and a few other ice cream avoiders to take down The Ice Cream Man and end the madness.
While the concept is similar, this is not a remake of 1995’s “Ice Cream Man” starring Clint Howard. This is an exclusive vision from writer/director Eli Roth, and needless to say, he requires a trip to the optometrist. As a purveyor of progressively bad films like “Cabin Fever,” “Hostel,” “Thanksgiving,” and “Borderlands,” Roth seems intent on serving disgusting drivel to insult audience intelligence. This latest effort is his worst to date, and not even his admitted shameful inclusion of AI can help provide any entertainment, much less watchability.
First, he lulls viewers to sleep with an inexcusably slow and plodding first act focusing on characters who are poorly developed and weakly constructed into walking clichés. The introduction of the titular character falls completely flat. Instead of a horrific murderer, he’s depicted as a low-budget mime, creepily perving on young children. The pedophilic predatory vibe is unmistakable as he is shown multiple times unblinkingly staring with a sick smile while following kids in his van. As if this offensiveness is not enough to dissuade audiences from witnessing, Roth tediously continues to promote his shock-value cinematic style as the film crawls its way into the second act of violent chaos. He tries to emulate the final act of “Weapons” with kids chasing down adults to savagely kill, but the visuals and effects are so cheap, that as little kids effortlessly start carving up the adult characters, they may as well have been cutting through pudding, because the bodies had the same consistency. To make matters even worse, the adult characters seem incapable of doing anything but awaiting their grisly deaths, putting up zero fight and politely sitting still as the kids dismember them, disembowel them, or cut through scalp and skull to expose their brain. After a couple minutes of this gorefest, it becomes dull and numbing, making viewers wish they were next on the kids’ hit list.
The many cinematic sins Eli Roth is guilty of with this production are only exacerbated by his atrocious writing. The narrative is weak with a hastily concocted revenge theme as a thinly contrived motivation for the spree murders. He couldn’t even be bothered with a viable explanation as to how the ice cream turns the children into zombified puppets. Worst of all is the dialogue writing, where he tries to incorporate humor, but it’s as if he’s never heard a joke with a solid punchline in his entire life. Without comedy, suspense, or even a glint of horror, Roth provides no reason to see this mess of a film. In fact, there is only one positive to be gleaned from the entire production, which occurs in the final act. The rug-pulling twist is actually neatly conceived and executed, but the audience has either left or checked out in irritation by then to care.
Even though the acting is amateurish at best, the cast never stood a chance with the script they were given. Of course, with Eli Roth’s unfounded ego, he inserts himself into the movie as the father of the main protagonist. He proceeds to demonstrate how his acting is nearly as bad as his writing and directing with cringingly poor line delivery and eye rolling attempts at humor.
As an undoubtable contender for worst film of the year, this is one theatrical release that may set the record for most walkouts and refund demands. Just like attempting to eat an ice cream cone on a summer day in Phoenix, Arizona, “Ice Cream Man” quickly becomes a sticky puddle of slop, offering nothing more than a stain of revulsion on your memory. It is so bad that you’ll flinch with derision anytime you hear that familiar jingle from an ice cream truck.
This movie earns
