Do you have false memories about any specific movie? Something you’ve thought to yourself, for over a decade, was about one thing with one actor playing a specific character and then upon rewatch, you realize you were VERY far off? For me, that movie is Abominable. My neighbor came over on a Saturday at some point in my youth. My parents had the Sci-Fi channel on, and a movie called Abominable was playing. At one point, it caused my neighbor to scream and subsequently ask my dad to walk him across the street at the end of the night.

Here is my false memory of the movie. A couple goes to a cabin in a heavily forested mountain range and gets trapped inside when a freak snowstorm hits. The couple find themselves trapped in the house as Bigfoot taunts them for hours upon hours before inevitably breaking in and killing them. At one point, Lance Henrikson (in a wheelchair) joins the fray as a former Bigfoot hunter. After buying the subtitle-less MVD Blu-Ray/DVD release I realized just how wrong I was.

Abominable actually follows Preston Rogers (Matt McCoy), an affluent man who is returning to his mountain house six months after a rock climbing accident took his wife’s life, as well as his ability to walk. Preston is released into the care of a nurse named Otis Wilhelm (Christien Tinsley). Otis joins Preston at his house for a few days to help him with a sort of immersion therapy. There are also multiple stairs (like over 30) to get into the house, so Preston is essentially trapped in the house without the assistance of Otis. Amanda (Haley Joel) and her friends arrive at the house next door to Preston. Equipped with binoculars, Preston is stuck watching Bigfoot pick these girls off one by one because Otis doesn’t believe him. Can Preston warn the remaining girls? Or will they continue to call the man watching them with binoculars a creep?

It is very clear that writers Ryan Schifrin, James Morrison, and director Ryan Schifrin were heavily influenced by Hitchcock’s Rear Window. As someone who has only seen a handful of Hitchcock’s films, I’ll take Ryan at his word on that. While the Hitchcock reference escapes me, I was able to pick up on a few other references to Bigfoot cinema. Well, one reference and one nod. Bigfoot cinema hit the genre heavily in the late ’60s/early ’70s upon the release of the rightfully criticized Patterson–Gimlin footage. Some even say that the footage was the first Bigfoot movie. (I say that because it’s fake.)

The most noticeable reference to Bigfoot cinema is the handful of times we leave Preston’s POV and transport ourselves into the eyes of the Bigfoot itself. Bigfoot’s vision is a slightly out-of-focus image with a yellowish vignette around the outside. This homage is directly lifted from the uniquely gory Night of the Demon, which is a Bigfoot slasher film and one of the only Bigfoot films to be considered a Video Nasty.

Abominable tips its hat at the Bigfoot cinema of yore. As these films were pumped out en masse in the ‘70s, their popularity started waning. This meant less money was being funneled into Bigfoot films which forced the subgenre to turn into more of a tell, don’t show subgenre. Bigfoot would rip people off-screen and the outcomes would be shown post-kill (if shown at all). The first person to go missing in Abominable is thought to be killed that way, though Schifrin and Morrison have a great payoff for that character. As the kills ramp up, so does what we see. It feels like Schifrin and Morrison pay their homage to the films that led the groundwork of Bigfoot cinema and then amp it up tenfold to let the audience know, “This ain’t your grandma’s Bigfoot movie.”

We need to talk about Bigfoot itself. At its core, Abominable is a man-in-a-suit film. Actor, and Oscar-nominated/winner, Christien Tinsley also served as Creature Effects Coordinator. With the exception of one awful digital Bigfoot mouth, where it unhinges its jaws like a snake, the Bigfoot creature is astounding. On top of the Bigfoot proper, the kills are practical and exceptional. Part of my false memory surrounding this film was that it was a Sci-Fi Original, and I went into this viewing still thinking that. Upon further research, it was not. While some of the acting does feel Sci-Fi Original-ly, the effects are beyond what you would expect for a film like this.

There’s something that Preston says in the film that was either a straight-up error or a very fortunate mistake. Aside from the necessary, “I know what I saw!” line, Preston describes the creature as having red eyes. It clearly has yellow eyes. Part of me wonders if that was intentional or not. Was this a commentary on sightings and conspiracy in general? I’ve spoken at length with a Bigfoot enthusiast/hunter as well as a few Ufologists. None of them have exaggerated their experiences to me, but as someone who is deeply ingrained in this culture, exaggeration is something we need to accept. So, is this eye-color discrepancy a goof? Or is this further commentary on sightings as a whole? I am going to say it’s the latter.

The acting in Abominable isn’t fantastic, but it’s far from schlocky B-movie acting. There are a few cameos from some horror icons. Dee Wallace has a few minutes of screen time. Part of my false memory was correct in the fact that Lance Henriksen is indeed in the film! However, like Dee Wallace, his screen time is limited. And he doesn’t waste a second of it. Paul Gleason is in the film for a few minutes and is a joy to watch. But it’s Jeffrey Combs who steals the [cameo] show. His costume makes him nearly unrecognizable, and he chews up the scenery more than the constant chain of cigarettes in his mouth.

What’s most impressive about Abominable is that it’s a film for Bigfoot cinema fans as well as people who don’t really have an interest in the hairy cryptid. (Yes, I called Bigfoot a cryptid, fight me.) Abominable pays its dues to the films before it and still finds new and creative ways to make it fresh and fun. At a lean hour and 34 minutes, this film doesn’t overstay its welcome and will delight and please all ages of horror fans. That being said, I do not recommend the MVD release. There are no subtitles, and the intro from Ryan Schifrin feels like he’s doing a chore. If you have the physical copy, maybe watch it without his intro. It tainted the first 10 minutes of my viewing experience.

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!