A review of the first 15 minutes of "Ice Harvest"
posted by CS | 8:00 AM 
The missuz, her brother, and I were looking to see a film Saturday night. We wanted to see Walk the Line (which the missuz and I had already seen), but did not do so in order that the missuz' brother could see it for the first time with his missuz. That said...
We tried to get tickets to Pride and Prejudice. SOLD OUT.
So we opted for tickets to the latest John Cusack vehicle, Ice Harvest. I didn't know anything of the film, but remarked to my wife, "It's got John Cusack in it; how bad can it be?"
Building on my naive statement, I am reminded of the two word review in the film This Is Spinal Tap of the mythical album Shark Sandwich: Shit Sandwich.
It was worse than that. Really.
I couldn't believe how bad it was initially, as it was directed by Harold Ramis, director of such seminal films of my early adulthood as Caddyshack, National Lampoon's Vacation, and Groundhog Day. I feel as if this review is dedicated to him personally.
As the film opens, not a minute into the credits, we see a nativity scene. The camera pans around as the ice-covered diorama is rained upon. As the camera scans the figures, it focuses on the baby Jesus in His manger, where several drops of cold rain drip onto Him. I thought it tasteless, but didn't make much else of it. I have learned to increase forgiveness of the offenses I take in our era of tolerance*. Only after leaving the film 15 minutes later, did I find that both of my companions shared my offense.
Such is why I title this "a review of the first 15 minutes of 'Ice Harvest'", as that was all I saw. Actually, I saw less. Since a large portion of this section of the film takes place in a strip club, I found myself looking away from the screen in respect for my wife. It was as if I had taken my wife to such a place.
The leading man character, Cusack, is apparently hot for the owner of said strip club, an improbably beautiful, well-dressed, and intelligent woman. Yet perhaps such a person exists, given this story.
Personally, I can endure the errant S or F bomb, if used in a way which adds proper color to a story. I am much less resiliant to relentless use of the names Jesus Christ or God in derogatory ways. This film had plenty of each. F this. F that. The first line of the film had the word F in it... "Ho F-ing Ho". It, like the rain on Christ, was almost a warning.
All - or most - is forgiven in my view IF THE STORY IS AT LEAST FUNNY. This story was not in the least. I chuckled perhaps once in the 15 minutes. The audience seemed to agree with me. There was little laughter at this "comedy".
About 10 minutes into the travesty, my wife and I began debating leaving. A few minutes later, my brother-in-law leaned over and asked "how are you doing?" We said "we're about ready to go. Let's see if it gets any better." I kid you not, the next word was F. We left.
At 36, that's the first movie I've left out of offense. The first I've left at all.
We sought our money back and received it. The manager, a young man of somewhat less years than me, agreed that he'd been somewhat offended in seeing the film himself. This was reassuring in this first step of sanity in a walk away from an insane Hollywood shit machine.
I really expected better of Ramis and Cusack. I get the notion of fielding a black comedy at Christmas. It's a little fun to let some of the air out of that gigantic balloon of Christmas Spirit. But Ramis delivers a balloon-bursting bomb with this effort. Really, Harold - drops of rain on a close up of the helpless Christ child? You may not share my faith, but don't you think this is the least bit disrespectful? The Christ child represents everything good that Christians live for - to bring that hope and light into the world. Your silly raindrops reveal your disdain.
Oh, it was just a little rain.
Riiiiiiight.
By the way, the wife and I went to see Walk the Line again this Sunday. I cannot recommend the film more highly than to say you need to see it. Just as Ice Harvest was the first film I have ever left, Walk the Line is the first film I have paid to see twice. That I saw them a day apart is no surprise to me.
Harold, I forgive you now as I long ago forgave you for Club Paradise (for which I did not get back my money). Now try again.
* - tolerance, defined through popular usage, as "1 - the tacit enduring of all that is not directly referential to Biblical Christianity. 2 - the elevation of a minority of voices of lesser logical and moral merits concomitant with the abasement of an established majority of voices whose merit is not of logical or moral dispute.
We tried to get tickets to Pride and Prejudice. SOLD OUT.
So we opted for tickets to the latest John Cusack vehicle, Ice Harvest. I didn't know anything of the film, but remarked to my wife, "It's got John Cusack in it; how bad can it be?"
Building on my naive statement, I am reminded of the two word review in the film This Is Spinal Tap of the mythical album Shark Sandwich: Shit Sandwich.
It was worse than that. Really.
I couldn't believe how bad it was initially, as it was directed by Harold Ramis, director of such seminal films of my early adulthood as Caddyshack, National Lampoon's Vacation, and Groundhog Day. I feel as if this review is dedicated to him personally.
As the film opens, not a minute into the credits, we see a nativity scene. The camera pans around as the ice-covered diorama is rained upon. As the camera scans the figures, it focuses on the baby Jesus in His manger, where several drops of cold rain drip onto Him. I thought it tasteless, but didn't make much else of it. I have learned to increase forgiveness of the offenses I take in our era of tolerance*. Only after leaving the film 15 minutes later, did I find that both of my companions shared my offense.
Such is why I title this "a review of the first 15 minutes of 'Ice Harvest'", as that was all I saw. Actually, I saw less. Since a large portion of this section of the film takes place in a strip club, I found myself looking away from the screen in respect for my wife. It was as if I had taken my wife to such a place.
The leading man character, Cusack, is apparently hot for the owner of said strip club, an improbably beautiful, well-dressed, and intelligent woman. Yet perhaps such a person exists, given this story.
Personally, I can endure the errant S or F bomb, if used in a way which adds proper color to a story. I am much less resiliant to relentless use of the names Jesus Christ or God in derogatory ways. This film had plenty of each. F this. F that. The first line of the film had the word F in it... "Ho F-ing Ho". It, like the rain on Christ, was almost a warning.
All - or most - is forgiven in my view IF THE STORY IS AT LEAST FUNNY. This story was not in the least. I chuckled perhaps once in the 15 minutes. The audience seemed to agree with me. There was little laughter at this "comedy".
About 10 minutes into the travesty, my wife and I began debating leaving. A few minutes later, my brother-in-law leaned over and asked "how are you doing?" We said "we're about ready to go. Let's see if it gets any better." I kid you not, the next word was F. We left.
At 36, that's the first movie I've left out of offense. The first I've left at all.
We sought our money back and received it. The manager, a young man of somewhat less years than me, agreed that he'd been somewhat offended in seeing the film himself. This was reassuring in this first step of sanity in a walk away from an insane Hollywood shit machine.
I really expected better of Ramis and Cusack. I get the notion of fielding a black comedy at Christmas. It's a little fun to let some of the air out of that gigantic balloon of Christmas Spirit. But Ramis delivers a balloon-bursting bomb with this effort. Really, Harold - drops of rain on a close up of the helpless Christ child? You may not share my faith, but don't you think this is the least bit disrespectful? The Christ child represents everything good that Christians live for - to bring that hope and light into the world. Your silly raindrops reveal your disdain.
Oh, it was just a little rain.
Riiiiiiight.
By the way, the wife and I went to see Walk the Line again this Sunday. I cannot recommend the film more highly than to say you need to see it. Just as Ice Harvest was the first film I have ever left, Walk the Line is the first film I have paid to see twice. That I saw them a day apart is no surprise to me.
Harold, I forgive you now as I long ago forgave you for Club Paradise (for which I did not get back my money). Now try again.
* - tolerance, defined through popular usage, as "1 - the tacit enduring of all that is not directly referential to Biblical Christianity. 2 - the elevation of a minority of voices of lesser logical and moral merits concomitant with the abasement of an established majority of voices whose merit is not of logical or moral dispute.
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