‘Iced’ (1988/89) – Jeff Kwitney.

 

‘Snow joke, iced ski dead people!’

 

At a bustling, whitely glistering ski resort we are boisterously introduced to a gaudy gaggle of morally despicable, self-absorbed ski-headed skells making Alpine whoopee and these duplicitous degenerates denigrate one of their number Jeff until an altercation breaks out over the perceived proprietary rights of the uber blonde-headed schmoe bunny Trina (Debra DeLiso) until meat-faced Cory (Doug Stevenson) and the neurasthenic Jeff throws down and much like the similarly snow-coned ‘The Chill Factor’ they must race to save alpha male face and win the additional grace from the not-exactly fair maiden. This fatefully frosty contest proceeds with a weirdly realized downhill race with the net result being the loser Jeff endures great shame thereby losing his capricious girl, the scrappy race and, perhaps even his mind!

4 years later these snow-seeking simps converge for a weekend of wintry high junks at ‘Snowy Peaks’ where they plan to do the same tired shizz as before and not long into their chilly shenanigans the serious matter of stalk and slash begins in deadly earnest, except Jeff Kwitney’s ‘Iced’ takes the singular approach of playing his delightfully absurd horror movie out like a Hallmark Christmas special, cannily replacing the saccharine sentimentality with righteous B-movie excess, his fabulously frost-bitten freak show serves up delightfully amateur hour 'acting', hilariously crass love scenes, perfectly malodorous dialogue which along with its plethora of ice-cool ski slope slayings and savage ski lodge stabbings unexpectedly coalesces into a delirious miasma of cruddy death-dealing delights!

Composer Dan Milner’s score has a tasty Richard Band quality, boisterously exaggerating ‘Iced’s suitably hysterical climax. The film’s winning lack of sophistication and soft-core slap n’ tickle aesthetic merely increases its bizarrely compelling nature; it’s not great cinema but readily satisfies baser instincts as a cheap and trashy grot-fest! There’s also a fragrant campiness to the cod-ball chatter and ‘eclectic’ acting talent that not infrequently increases its entirely welcome comedic element, and the harder it tries to be a serious slasher, the more wildly successful it becomes as a ‘so-bad-its-good’ delight, and you’ve got a snowball in hell’s chance of chilling out to anything remotely like it made today!     

'say what ya' want about the 80s but bros knew how to party!'

'Admit it, I got TV Cop dopeness with this 'tail!'

'Toootally Bodacious ski mask psycho P.O.V, dude!'

'Gee!! Horror movies used to be so much more hole-some!!'

'Heimlich yourself outta that, tough guy!'

'Hey!!! I was gonna' save you a slice!'

'That's not how you do rabbit's ears, honey!'

'Well, Scooby Doo I got myself a bona fide clue!'

'Iced ski dead people!'

'You will swallow this an' like it, sugar mittens!'

'Vanilla Slice, baby!'