Supermassive Short Review: Frozen (2010)

I have a lot of free time, which is partly responsible for why we’ve never had to get a handyman out to fix anything in the flat and fully responsible for why we really, really need one.

Relax, I’m pretty sure I can fix this and still get our deposit back.

When I’m not using a hammer to defrost the freezer, though, I like to watch horror films; rubbish or otherwise. In the last ten years I’ve probably seen maybe three films that actually scared the piss out of me, (Ring, The Orphanage, Insidious) and a lot more that made me physically angry when I realised this was time I was never getting back, (Paranormal Activity, The Devil Inside).

Frozen falls into the latter category.

This marks the sixty-eighth time I’ve seen a poster use the ‘Will do for X, what Jaws did for swimming’ line, and the sixty-seventh time it’s not been clever.

Starring no one I recognised, the film revolves around three idiots that manage to get stuck on a ski lift the night before the resort closes for a week. Ignoring the fact the that in a country as eagerly litigious as America there is no way a resort would shut down without thorough security checks; ignoring the fact that the reason they get stuck is because the guy manning the lift can’t count to six; and ignoring the fact that a resort which only opens once a week surely couldn’t be financially sustainable, the film still manages to be frustratingly stupid.

Case in point: after a hilariously futile –but admittedly brutal– stunt sees the ‘main’ character with his shin bones poking out his legs, several wolves turn up to tear his stupid face apart. ‘Fair enough,’ I thought, ‘I guess wolves might be nocturnal or something.’ Then they turn up again in the morning. I’ve never been skiing, but I’m almost certain that the first, if not only, rule you would have when location-scouting is that you don’t pick the mountain covered in wolves.

“‘Sup, bro?”

While this is all going on, the female lead continues to cry, literally piss herself, and generally be useless while the comic relief character attempts to shimmy along the steel cable to reach a ladder, (apparently this was Plan B, after the world-beating Plan ‘Thirty Foot Drop with my Legs Pointed Straight Down like a Fucking Lawn Dart’,) cutting his hands to ribbons as he goes because apparently the steel cable is sharp enough to tear everything apart except the supports on the chairs it carries up and down the mountain on a regular basis, which in turn carry several tonnes of stupid human.

To everyone’s surprise, the comic relief makes it to ground safely and is eaten by wolves. So that was great. Then the chair that the useless woman is crying on falls to the ground, miraculously not killing her and she crawls to safety and the film ends before anyone can point out that the PTSD which inevitably comes from seeing two of your friends eaten alive probably meant she was worst off out of the three.

So there you go, Frozen sucks even by the already high standards of suspended disbelief set by the horror genre. The soundtrack was nice, though.

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