The Ice Harvest is attractive to two audiences, those being the film noir and/or crime fans and the people who think a movie with Cusack and Thornton directed by ex-Ghostbuster Ramis is going to be a mishap-riddled caper comedy. Unfortunately, this film's heart lies outside of the compatibility of either. It's technically not a crime film, because the story begins immediately as the crime ends, a $2 million embezzlement scheme that is never explained. Also, the film is certainly not a comedy within the ballpark of any other work by Harold Ramis. What Ramis has made is a film that is more of a dramatic exercise in cinematic mood and low-key atmosphere. The good news is that he pulls it off very well.
The Ice Harvest happens to be one of the movies I watch at Christmastime, because the film is actually so well-directed and so well-shot that it captures that constantly sought-after perfect cozy winter atmosphere on film. The events of the story occur over the course of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, all in the small and quiet town of Wichita, KA. No matter how much time it spends during the outlandish drunken bouts of Oliver Platt or the destructive tantrums of Ned Bellamy's overaggressive bartender, The Ice Harvest never breaks its meticulous feeling and image for one moment.
Even though it's not what is expected by the vast majority of those who have seen it or those who mean to, it does have impressionistic characteristics of those expectations that deliver sensationally, such as Thornton's tremendously entertaining time on screen and the thicket of distrust that ushers in over the course of the holidays succeeding his and Cusack's so-called perfect crime. However, these are purely part of the style rather than the substance. The plot is conjecture of film noir rather than the real deal, as most of the twists are nearly meant to be somewhat obvious or expected. Really, the essence of the story lies in Cusack's descent into complete detachment from any virtue in life, feeling as if he's only an observer when encountering darkly humorous yet brooding things over his Christmas.
The Ice Harvest is not really a comedy and not really a film noir. Actually, it bears no genre per se. Simply, it's a wonderful installment in the phantom subgenre of cinematic moodiness.
The Ice Harvest happens to be one of the movies I watch at Christmastime, because the film is actually so well-directed and so well-shot that it captures that constantly sought-after perfect cozy winter atmosphere on film. The events of the story occur over the course of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, all in the small and quiet town of Wichita, KA. No matter how much time it spends during the outlandish drunken bouts of Oliver Platt or the destructive tantrums of Ned Bellamy's overaggressive bartender, The Ice Harvest never breaks its meticulous feeling and image for one moment.
Even though it's not what is expected by the vast majority of those who have seen it or those who mean to, it does have impressionistic characteristics of those expectations that deliver sensationally, such as Thornton's tremendously entertaining time on screen and the thicket of distrust that ushers in over the course of the holidays succeeding his and Cusack's so-called perfect crime. However, these are purely part of the style rather than the substance. The plot is conjecture of film noir rather than the real deal, as most of the twists are nearly meant to be somewhat obvious or expected. Really, the essence of the story lies in Cusack's descent into complete detachment from any virtue in life, feeling as if he's only an observer when encountering darkly humorous yet brooding things over his Christmas.
The Ice Harvest is not really a comedy and not really a film noir. Actually, it bears no genre per se. Simply, it's a wonderful installment in the phantom subgenre of cinematic moodiness.