Review

Review Date: 27-November-05
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Juicy

The Ice Harvest (2005)

"The Ice Harvest" is not at all what I was led to believe by the "Bad Santa"-ish display at the theater or the poster's tagline, "Thick Thieves. Thin Ice." Here I was expecting a goofy crime caper in which somebody punches a Salvation Army bell ringer or decapitates a plastic Rudolph in the name of holiday humor, but instead I find a rather melancholy meditation on how crappy it is to be a white, American, middle-aged male. I also anticipated seeing a lot of Bad Santa himself, Billy Bob Thornton, but no, this picture is all about John Cusack. Which goes a long way toward explaining its "Juicy" rating.

Cusack plays Charlie Arglist, a mob attorney who undergoes a concentrated mid-life crisis on one memorable Christmas Eve. In a nice twist on an established genre, "The Ice Harvest" opens immediately after Charlie has completed the Big Score that will allow him to retire to a tropical island ... as long as everything wraps up as planned. Without pausing to fill in the details, the movie launches into Charlie's attempts to spend a last "normal" night in Wichita, Kansas, before lamming it for paradise. He ends up making almost as many visits as St. Nick, though with decidedly less festive results: tracking down his elusive partner (Thornton); visiting the stripper of his dreams (Connie Nielsen); downing drinks with the friend who stole his ex-wife (Oliver Platt); and eluding a hit man who has already caught his scent.

Each of Charlie's adventures sheds light on his character (some droll, some disturbing, some both), but the actor's face offers the best insight into his predicament. That sweet, quizzical look that Cusack wielded in the '80s has mellowed splendidly with age and experience, and he now possesses the most expressive aspect of 40-something disillusionment imaginable. Sure, Charlie is seeking the easy way out of a questionable life, but how could we fail to feel sorry for someone so soulfully lost? Those ebony eyes reflect infinite disappointment with his own failure at being a father and son, with women who want things he cannot give, and with men who respond to such situations by getting shitfaced or losing their humanity. Put simply, how could anyone not stand behind the jaded, craggy, and ineffably lovely John Cusack, perched on the crest of the proverbial hill? The existence of such a creature would signify a heart of ice.

Copyright © 2005 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.