The Ice Harvest

I had some hopes (not high, but some) for this movie, considering the players: starring John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton, directed by Harold Ramis. I knew going in that the reviews were generally favorable, and I was expecting a wild black comedy in the vein of Cusack’s Grosse Pointe Blank or even Billy Bob Thornton’s Bandits. The movie, stuck between farce and noir, was mildly amusing and slightly mysterious, but never enough of one or the other.

John Cusack has always been one of my favorite lead actors, from straight up comedy (Grosse Pointe Blank) to romantic comedy (Serendipity, Say Anything) to more serious stuff (Being John Malkovich, Identity). He’s eminently watchable for his off-kilter line deliveries and knack for manic but lovable characters. In Ice Harvest he plays Charlie Arglist (horrible choice of a last name, by the way), a usual Cusackian sad, self-hating but hopeful and thoughtful leading man type.

Given that bit of type casting, you would think he’d excel in this role. But like the other actors, Cusack falls victim to the inconsistent tone of the movie. Charlie, a “mob lawyer” in (of all places) Wichita, Kansas, is celebrating Christmas, having just two million dollars from his boss with the help of Vic (Billy Bob), a local strip club honcho. We don’t see the job, though, only the aftermath. And though Cusack calls it “the perfect job” in the opening narration, it is clear from the moment Vic & Charlie debate over who will take the money that this will end badly for somebody. My guess is anyone but Charlie. He is the leading man, after all.

Part of the problem may be all that is going on: a strange Wichita underworld of strip clubs, Kansas City mob bosses (Randy Quaid), naive cops, blackmailed congressmen and drunken friends. Oliver Platt as Charlie’s drunken friend Pete (who also happens to be the husband to Charlie’s ex-wife), is a hoot, but the femme fatale/object of Charlie’s affection, strip club manager Renata (Connie Nielsen), seems to come from a different movie.

By the time we get to the end, the body count is up, the gratuitous blood & boobs get are neither hilarious nor disturbing, and the double crosses and plot twists can be spotted miles away. The only truly out-there scene finds Charlie and Pete stopping by to see the ex-wife and her family (including Charlie’s clichéd children of divorce), who are in the midst of their Christmas Eve dinner.

Ramis and Cusack have both made strong black comedies before (Groundhog Day and the aforementioned Grosse Point Blank) and Billy Bob has made an outrageous anti-Christmas movie (Bad Santa). The Ice Harvest could have been something on par with all three of those, but sadly falls short.
Grade: B-