REVIEWED: The Ice Cream Man

From Cabin Fever’s delectably twisted blend of eyewateringly graphic body horror and wickedly sardonic black humour to Hostel’s whiplash-inducing narrative shift from bawdy, Eurotrip-style romp to indescribably harrowing exercise in abject brutality, suffice to say horror’s premier enfant terrible Eli Roth has seldom concerned himself with colouring inside the proverbial lines. With its madcap premise of a demonic ice cream vendor peddling poisonous, mind-altering treats to a whole community of unsuspecting local kiddos, this latest addition to the otherwise joyously irreverent and inventive Roth canon feels like a comparatively lacklustre, borderline lazy affair.

Certainly, the notion of a cartoonishly idyllic, Pleasantville-like corner of suburbia being terrorised by a horde of homicidal children held captive by a curious, Pied Piper-esque curse is not without its quirky comedic appeal. Nor is Roth’s unwitting, would-be hero of the piece: a perpetually bullied but quick-witted boy named Jared (Charlie Zeltzer) whose own crippling lactose intolerance ironically becomes something of an unexpected super-power in these decidedly unprecedented circumstances. Joined by his big sister Lizzie (Sarah Abbott), her air-headed ex and a ragtag assortment of fellow surviving classmates, this rapidly dwindling smattering of survivors embark on a perilous mission to uncover the source of the Ice Cream Man’s diabolical powers and, in doing so, forever end his reign of tyranny over their beloved town.

Mashing up its bare-facedly derivative riffing on Village of the Damned with abattoir-sized volumes of B-movie-style splatter, The Ice Cream Man proceeds with all the tasteful restraint and finesse of a sledgehammer-wielding maniac running amok in a nursing home. While such choice cinematic moments as a pair of possessed schoolgirls utilising their ill-fated victim’s intestines as a makeshift jump-rope or a headteacher whose brains are scooped out of his cranium like – yup, you guessed it – an ice cream cone certainly raise a cheap laugh or two, Roth’s anticipated summer smash falls significantly short of the cinematic craft and imagination we’ve come to expect of this seasoned director.

With tongue planted firmly in cheek, the campy, slapstick-laden carnage spewed out here in artery-ripping abundance is, contrary to what many a critic might claim, hardly the most damning criticism that could be levelled at this sloppily executed splatter flick. Indeed, at moments, it’s actually pretty entertaining providing the viewer leaves their more elevated intellectual faculties at the door. But above all else, it’s the sarcastic sniping and quick-witted dialogue of the indisputably talented cast of young actors that keep us invested in a story that, after much chaotic escalation and curious turns, finally peters out into an unsatisfyingly underdeveloped and anticlimactic conclusion.

Neither providing the hard-won victory and payoff our valiant and likeable losers’ club would have so richly deserved nor wrapping things up in a final, apocalyptic flourish of unspooling entrails and bloodshed, The Ice Cream Man simply… recedes into unresolved ambiguity, leaving a trail of jaunty music and lingering questions in its wake before the final credits roll. And beyond a handful of gratuitously nasty, Romero-esque slaughterings, adolescent bickering and quite charming Stranger Things-tinged camaraderie, this E-number-fuelled gore fest leaves appetites ultimately unsated.

6/10

The Ice Cream Man is out now in UK cinemas