Around 2014 I found the podcast from filmmakers Joe Lynch and Adam Green called The Movie Crypt. Even though I was nearing the end of my college tenure, I was using this podcast as a supplementary film school of sorts. Hearing conversations from the indie-est of indie filmmakers to high-profile filmmakers was invaluable. As much as I love Green and Lynch, there was a piece of criticism Green received that stuck with me. I’m paraphrasing, but Green talked about how someone said his films and his excellent show, Holliston, are basically a parading of himself, his friends, and his then-wife, Rileah Vanderbilt. The quote was something like, “Your work is centered around: look how hot my wife is, look how great my life is.” When I rewatched Frozen for this review, I couldn’t get that (somewhat paraphrased) quote out of my head.
(Maybe I’m misremembering where that quote came from and it’s from Digging up the Marrow.)
Frozen follows Dan (Kevin Zegers), his girlfriend Parker (Emma Bell), and his best friend Joe [Lynch] (Shawn Ashmore), who spend the day skiing. The group decides to use a connection with one of the ski lift operators to avoid paying for a lift pass. Even though their friend isn’t there, they end up paying another operator and get to use the ski lift for a small fee. Later in the night, the three friends bully their way into one final trip. Karma bites them in the butt when a storm nears the resort, and they are left alone on the ski lift. Can these three survive on the ski lift until help comes in a few days? Or is being trapped on a ski lift the least of their troubles?
We’ll get back to what I spoke about in the opening in due time, but I do need to give this film the praise it deserves. Writer/director Adam Green crafted an incredibly tight film. Single-location films are hard to do, and it’s even harder when that one location is literally a single location. Green’s pacing feels intricately planned beat-for-beat. You can often feel when a writer has one really good idea for a story and then tries to buff out the script to make that one idea work. Frozen is technically a one-idea film. Three people are trapped on a ski lift. But Green’s script is that of a hungry filmmaker who is keen on carving their genre path to be greater than that of a horror comedy slasher franchise.
Character-wise, Green has likeably unlikeable characters. Dan and Joe are scheemers. They went into this whole trip with the plan of not paying for their ski lift. Even when they get their way, they bitch and moan at the end of the night until they get their way and get one more [fateful] trip. Even though Parker is essentially browbeaten into using her feminine wiles for Dan and Joe to get what they want, she’s likable. Parker just wants to have a good time and she’s thrust into an unfortunate scenario.
At no point does Frozen become visually boring. Over 50% of the film’s runtime does indeed take place on the ski lift andit never ceases to be engaging. This is entirely in part due to Green’s direction as well as his, at this time, third collaboration with cinematographer William Barratt. Barratt finds a happy medium between the static horror of the ski lift to the frantic ground footage when the wolves are introduced. It’s clear why Adam Green loves working with William Barratt, and it’s because that man knows how to work with a camera efficiently and effectively.
Practicals. Frozen is a buffet of practical horror goodness. From the frostbite special effects makeup to the hands frozen to poles and through the wolf attacks, Frozen has enough practical effects for the deepest practical purest. That’s not to say this film has Terrifier-like gore, but Green is brilliant with his use of respectful gore. And the wolves are just too cute. Even with gore and viscera hanging from their mouths, I want to cuddle them.
So, why did I start this review by bringing up that quote? Two reasons. Firstly, I get it. I get why Adam Green does what he does. Secondly, I get it. I get why that person criticized Green as he did. That’s not to say I agree with the criticism, but it’s hard to get out of my head. Look, I appreciate when filmmakers are referential and use the resources they have. There is no qualm there. When I first watched Frozen in 2011, I wasn’t as knowledgeable about the genre as I am today. Now that I am, I get why that person said what they said.
Let’s look at the constant references throughout the film. Kane Hodder has a cameo, which is fine. In the cameo, he’s wearing a Mount Holliston beanie. Worldbuilding, fine. And that’s when the fun aspect goes from quirky and referential, to flat-out annoying. Dan’s best friend being named Joe Lynch isn’t cute. It’s frustrating and too much of a fourth wall break. There’s a character named Rifkin, an homage to Green’s filmmaking friend Adam Rifkin (Chillerama). I, as well asmany people, find it beyond annoying when characters and locations are named after filmmakers. Romero University, Voorhees Hall, Krueger’s Kindergarten. It’s one of the most frustrating things about horror. Especially when it’s a straight horror story. Horror comedies get a slight pass (for me).
The really frustrating addition is the character of Shannon (Rileah Vanderbilt). Adam Green and Rileah were either dating or engaged at this point in filming. And there’s zero point to her character. All the inclusion of this character does is paint Joe as a “nice guy.” Oh, he helped her up when she fell? AND she’s here with her rude ex-boyfriend? Well, of course she’s going to give Joe her number. None of this is to say Vanderbilt is a bad actor, because she’s not! It just feels like useless flaunting of someone to force unnecessary “character development.” There’s little agency to her character other than acting as an emotional stinger to make you care more about Joe’s survival.
When Shannon gives Joe her number, he clings to remembering the number to help him get through his ordeal. And that’s just not necessary. He’s literally in a life-or-death situation by being trapped on a ski lift as one of the year’s worst storms hits their location. That’s all we need. The film is 93 minutes long. Green could easily have done without this three-minute interlude that breaks the pacing. Joe’s character motivation doesn’t need to be to remember a seven-digit number so he can get laid if he survives. His motivation just needs to be survival!
Adam Green has been upfront with his struggles in the industry and an overall acceptance of the difficulty of “breaking into” it. He’s a perfect example of how to make your own way. He has made his own connections and used them the best way he sees fit, and even with all that said, I can’t help but applaud him for the work he’s done.
That’s enough of that. I don’t dislike Green or this film because of that quote, but I can easily see how people who are big horror fans AND don’t like Green could be frustrated. Frozen is an engaging and entertaining horror film that succeeds on its own merits and ideas, it doesn’t need these referential moments to wink at the audience. Adam Green is one of my favorite filmmakers and Frozen was the film that got me interested in his work. It still holds up all these years later. One thing has always stuck with me since my first viewing of Frozen: I’m never going on a ski lift again!
