Reviews

Iced (1988)

Originally published in Bleeding Skull! A 1980s Trash-Horror Odyssey.

I’ve never snorted cocaine. But I’ve seen Bright Lights, Big City. That pretty much makes me an expert. Therefore, I suspect that a large amount of cocaine was present during the writing, shooting, and editing of Iced. It’s just that good.

What happens when Jeff loses a midnight downhill ski race, and later finds his girlfriend fucking the guy that beat him? You got it! After screaming “YOU FUCKERS!” and grabbing some skis, Jeff hits the slopes and kills himself on a big fake rock. Or does he?

Four years later. After his apparent suicide, Jeff’s “friends” are still shook up about it. So shook up, in fact, that they can’t resist the pull of a free weekend at Snow Peak Resorts. Trina (Debra De Liso from Slumber Party Massacre), Jeff’s old girlfriend, is now married to the guy she was fucking. She also wears a t-shirt that says “Rockadiles.” It has a drawing of a crocodile playing a pink guitar. Karl, the coked-up train wreck, shows off the world’s smallest ponytail. Jeanette (Lisa Loring, last seen in Blood Frenzy) has enormous hair and fantasizes about Alex, the real estate agent (writer Joseph Alan Johnson, who also ripped it up in Berserker). Dry ice. Enigmatic instant outfit changes. Kitchen workout routines. But wait! Who’s that inconspicuous killer, clad in a neon blue snowsuit and oversized moon boots? You’ll love finding out.

From the opening late 80s crap-pop (“BASEBALL!”) to the terrible freeze frame ending, Iced is a force to be reckoned with. Since nothing much happens during the first hour, we’re granted free reign to mingle. Consider that a privilege. Director Jeff Kwitny has assembled a parade of asinine choppiness that’s fit for a king, filled with total morons and questionable logic. Telephoning for dire help or ordering a pizza? Licking coke off ceramic dishware before or after drying yourself with a towel? Revealing your wooden leg or waiting until someone stabs it? That’s how it goes. The sex is hot ‘n’ heavy, the gore is laughable, and everyone wears moon boots.

P.S. ROCKADILES.

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