About the film (courtesy of Iconic Events Releasing):
An idyllic summer town descends into madness when an ice cream man serves kids sweet delights with horrifying results.

Since making his big-screen directorial debut with Cabin Fever (2002), Eli Roth has firmly cemented his status among horror directors. Right out of the gate, audiences learned that he knew precisely how to wield a camera like a blade—cinematically speaking—and was more than willing to slash through every taboo in sight. Over the past two decades, the writer and director behind the notorious Hostel franchise has consistently carved out genre-pleasing body horror. Yet, throughout that long run, he has rarely delivered a film that achieved mainstream critical acclaim or runaway box-office dominance.

Part of the challenge stems from the genre itself, which often struggles to win over broader, non-genre audiences. However, this struggle seems particularly acute for Roth. Looking to break out of that familiar niche, his latest offering, Ice Cream Man, aims to deliver a chilling summer treat just in time to beat the August heat.

Unfortunately, Ice Cream Man turns out to be as bland, artificial, and deeply unsatisfying as a single low-fat scoop of vanilla soft-serve topped with stale candy corn. No one asked for this cone.

Ice Cream Man stumbles out of the gate with virtually no direction, narrative drive, or meaningful setup, relying instead on pure exploitation for cheap shock value. It fails to establish any tangible plot or stake until the final 15 to 20 minutes, when the script finally bothers to disclose the reasoning behind all the mindless carnage. By the time the film attempts to justify its own existence, most viewers will have already checked out.

While the premise holds plenty of elements that could have yielded a fun, campy slasher flick, the final product is completely melted and messy. Ice Cream Man is nearly void of relatable, memorable, or even coherent characters. Instead, the ensemble consists of empty archetypes who exist solely to wander from scene to scene making bafflingly foolish decisions before getting gruesomely murdered. Or worse, they spend their screen time stuffing their faces with sugary desserts that, for some unscientific reason, seem to stain their clothes far worse than the fake blood spraying across the set.

I certainly didn’t set out to trash Ice Cream Man when I sat down to compose this review. However, I found myself becoming increasingly agitated the more I reflected on what I had just watched and traced my steps back down memory lane. What could have been a sharp, self-aware horror satire ends up feeling like an uninspired chore that drags down its own running time. On the plus side, it’s only 86 minutes long. But on the downside, it’s 86 minutes long…

Even though Ice Cream Man opens in theaters nationwide this Friday, August 7th, I strongly recommend saving your hard-earned dollars. Unless you are a absolute die-hard completionist of Eli Roth’s filmography, wait to stream it at home—or better yet, skip the movie altogether and get real ice cream instead.