Eli Roth has never been one of my guys. Over the course of his career, I’ve given every one of his films a shot, and despite my love for the horror genre, I’ve never fully gravitated toward the majority of his work. I always joked that the best thing he ever did was the trailer for Thanksgiving in the Grindhouse double feature. Lo and behold, many years later, that joke became a reality as Eli Roth delivered what I feel is his most entertaining and gnarly film to date, Thanksgiving, a holiday-themed slasher that channels some of my favorite horror gems from the ’80s.
With some momentum on his side, the title of his upcoming film immediately intrigued me. For a brief moment, I wondered: Is Eli Roth about to remake the ’90s horror cult classic that only I and hardcore horror fans seem to remember, Ice Cream Man, starring Clint Howard? After the first trailer, the answer was clearly no, but I found myself curious nonetheless. Was Eli Roth about to deliver another delicious horror treat, or was it going to be a return to the stinkers I’ve grown used to from him?
After Thanksgiving suggested Eli Roth had finally found his footing, Ice Cream Man throws much of that goodwill away. It’s built around one of the filmmaker’s most deliciously twisted ideas, a childhood symbol of joy transformed into pure nightmare fuel, but the film buries that potential under a screenplay that’s as frustrating as it is nonsensical. While Roth still delivers a handful of memorably grotesque images, they’re not enough to save a film that feels like a major step backward.
Set in a quiet suburban neighborhood during the summer, Ice Cream Man centers on a mysterious ice cream vendor whose frozen treats transform childhood innocence into pure nightmare, sending the town’s children down a violent and murderous path.
Roth and co-writer Noah Belson’s screenplay takes a genuinely unique concept and muddles it with nonsensical twists and turns, along with dialogue that, much like the majority of Roth’s filmography, often leads to cringeworthy results. While the script is fully aware of the kind of movie it wants to be and frequently leans into its dark comedic tendencies, those moments don’t always stick. However, when it embraces its Night of the Living Dead × Village of the Damned × Children of the Corn influences, it delivers some genuinely terrifying sequences that are unfortunately undercut by clunky dialogue.
While the child performances are perfectly fine, I found myself fully engrossed by Ari Millen’s fully non-verbal performance, which echoes what works best about David Howard Thornton’s performance in the Terrifier franchise. Silent yet undeniably creepy and terrifying, Millen does so much with his eyes alone, capturing the sinister menace lurking behind the Ice Cream Man’s motivations.
If there’s one area where Ice Cream Man unquestionably delivers, it’s the gore. This is not a film for the faint of heart, as Roth fully embraces his splatter roots with some of the most grotesque and unapologetically graphic set pieces of his career. As the body count rises, the film descends into an all-out blood-soaked nightmare that feels like the finale of Weapons dialed up to 100 and stretched across nearly 80 minutes. Whether that level of excess works for you will ultimately come down to your tolerance for gore, but for fans of practical effects, over-the-top carnage, and Roth at his most unrestrained, there’s plenty to sink your teeth into.
With Thanksgiving, I genuinely believed Eli Roth had finally found the consistency that had eluded him for much of his career. Unfortunately, Ice Cream Man feels like a frustrating reminder of why I’ve always had such a complicated relationship with his filmography. The ingredients are all there: a wonderfully twisted premise, memorable horror imagery, an unsettling performance from Ari Millen, and enough practical gore to satisfy even the most hardcore splatter fans. Yet time and time again, the screenplay gets in its own way, squandering the film’s potential with baffling storytelling choices and clunky dialogue. I wanted to believe Thanksgiving marked the beginning of a new chapter for Roth. Instead, Ice Cream Man feels less like the next step forward and more like a disappointing slide back into old habits.
