Critic Reviews

Ice Cream Man is depraved fun served exactly how it should be — cold, messy, and with zero apologies. Eli Roth made the movie only he would dare to make, and horror fans with a strong stomach should line up for a scoop.

There have been plenty of horror movies involving murderous children over the years, such as Village of the Damned and its sequel and, of course, Children of the Corn. But Roth doesn’t hide his desire to outdo them all with this effort that can only be described as sick and twisted. And I’m sure he’ll take that as a compliment.

Like any purveyor of empty-calorie horror, Roth remembers to top his cone with a twist, which turns Ice Cream Man into his most ruthlessly bleak work to date.

With Ice Cream Man, Roth has an interesting idea, but with so little behind it, the movie quickly melts. Its brilliant gore scenes taste good at first. After a while, though, the sweetness wears off, leaving the audience without anything filling. As the end credits roll, you're still hungry for more.

After a while, it becomes clear there are only so many grotesque Roth motifs that the human body lends itself to. But that doesn’t stop him from going on and on, again and again.

Eli Roth aims for social commentary in the homestretch, but if the moment doesn’t feel satisfyingly nihilistic, that’s because his stab at building out the story has all the consistency of soft serve.

Ice Cream Man sees Eli Roth once more imitating better horror movies to mixed results, mostly making you wish that you were watching Terrifier or Weapons instead. Even as it’s not without some genuinely gruesome bursts of violence for all you gore lovers, there’s just not much else on the bone here. It’s cheap rather than clever, cumbersome rather than campy, and ultimately just oddly empty.

It would be more exciting to watch a documentary about the professionals, weirdos and professional weirdos making the fake guts and disembodied limbs than to watch the film they were actually working on.

Though the film is gleefully sadistic and doesn't skimp on the gore, Roth fails to build any real tension around it. Most of the violence has a goofy weightlessness to it; Ice Cream Man is about as visceral as an Itchy & Scratchy cartoon, and not nearly as cleverly staged. Without the right tone, there's little chance of the movie making its intended impact. The further into the story I went, the less engaged I became.

With Ice Cream Man, Roth tries to go “over the line” in a way that’s shamelessly derivative, jaw-droppingly bare-bones basic as filmmaking, and way too ludicrous to scare you. The movie wants to be a lark, but it’s such a preeningly garish and ham-handed piece of shock theater that it makes "Thanksgiving” look like “Vampyr.”