It isn’t subtle, it isn’t sensible and it certainly isn’t for everyone — but Eli Roth’s gloriously unhinged horror ride knows exactly what it wants to be.
There are two ways to approach Ice Cream Man.
You can walk in expecting a serious horror film with meticulously constructed characters, airtight logic and a story that behaves itself.
Or you can sit back, grab the popcorn and accept that Eli Roth has basically driven an ice-cream van directly through the gates of sanity.
The second option is considerably more fun.
Ice Cream Man is not interested in subtlety. It isn’t trying to reinvent the horror genre or become the next great piece of elevated cinema. Instead, it embraces the glorious tradition of the B-movie: big kills, bigger ideas, questionable decisions and enough gore to make the freezer aisle look like a crime scene.
And, surprisingly often, it works.
SCOOP BY SCOOP
The first thing to understand about Ice Cream Man is that realism has been left somewhere in the car park.
This is heightened, cartoonish horror where one outrageous situation leads to another, with the film seemingly daring the audience to guess what twisted idea is coming next.
The experience can feel less like watching a conventional slasher and more like playing a particularly deranged horror video game.
Move forward.
Survive the next encounter.
Wait for the next kill.
Repeat.
Once you surrender to that rhythm, the film becomes considerably more entertaining.
There’s a gleeful unpredictability to it. You never quite know where Roth is going to take things next, and that willingness to embrace the ridiculous gives the film an infectious energy.
Is it realistic?
Absolutely not.
Does every scene make perfect sense?
Not remotely.
Does it matter?
Not nearly as much as you might think.
WELCOME TO THE HOUSE OF HORRORS
The closest comparison isn’t necessarily another film.
It’s a Halloween Horror Nights attraction.
There’s something about Ice Cream Man that feels as though someone has taken the experience of walking through an elaborate horror maze and expanded it into a feature-length movie.
The story is there, technically, but it’s really the individual nightmares that matter.
You move from one grotesque set-piece to another, with the film continually escalating its violence and absurdity.
It’s candy-coloured nastiness.
Cartoonish carnage.
Cheesy one-liners.
Ridiculous situations.
And a lingering sense that nobody involved in the production ever asked the most obvious question:
“Should we perhaps stop?”
Fortunately, they didn’t.
ELI ROTH DOES WHAT ELI ROTH DOES
If you’ve seen Eli Roth’s previous work, you won’t exactly be shocked by the contents of Ice Cream Man.
Roth has never been a filmmaker particularly interested in restraint.
His cinema tends to favour practical gore, graphic violence, outrageous scenarios and the occasional moment that makes you instinctively look away before immediately looking back.
Ice Cream Man is cut from precisely the same cloth.
The film understands that horror fans don’t necessarily need every movie to make a grand statement.
Sometimes they just want carnage.
And there’s nothing inherently wrong with that.
In fact, there’s something refreshing about a horror movie that knows its own limitations and decides to have fun with them.
THE KILLS
This is where Ice Cream Man earns its stripes.
The kills are imaginative, brutal and frequently ridiculous in exactly the right way.
The practical effects are particularly effective, giving the violence a physical quality that modern CGI-heavy horror can sometimes lack.
You can almost feel the squelch.
The prosthetics, makeup effects and physical gore give the movie an appropriately nasty texture, and some of the set-pieces are clearly designed to make horror fans grin while everyone else reaches for the exit.
Not every effect lands.
There are moments where the digital work looks noticeably cheaper, particularly when placed beside the stronger practical effects.
But even when the effects wobble, the enthusiasm doesn’t.
And that’s important.
This is a film made by people who clearly enjoy the art of making audiences uncomfortable.
DON’T COME FOR THE SCREENPLAY
The screenplay is going to be divisive.
There are some lines that are so outrageously cheesy they become entertaining. There are others that simply make you wonder whether the actors were given the script five minutes before shooting.
The story itself is deliberately thin, with bits of strange mythology and lore occasionally thrown into the mix without much concern for whether everything fits neatly together.
If you’re looking for a perfectly engineered horror narrative, you’re likely to be frustrated.
But Ice Cream Man works better when you stop demanding that it behave like one.
This isn’t The Silence of the Lambs.
It’s closer to the sort of midnight horror movie you’d discover years later, become slightly obsessed with and start recommending to people with the words:
“Trust me. You have to see this.”
That feels like the future this film deserves.
CHARACTER? WHAT CHARACTER?
The performances aren’t really the selling point.
The characters exist primarily to move the story towards its next spectacularly unpleasant encounter.
This isn’t a film about carefully developed emotional arcs. It’s a film about putting people in increasingly horrible situations and seeing what happens.
Some performances work nicely within the deliberately exaggerated tone.
Others are less convincing.
But demanding Oscar-worthy dramatic depth from Ice Cream Man would be like complaining that a rollercoaster doesn’t contain enough meaningful dialogue.
That’s not why you’re here.
THE AI QUESTION
Then there’s the film’s most contemporary controversy: its use of artificial intelligence.
AI-generated material appears briefly, particularly in some of the dream-like imagery, and the footage itself represents only a tiny portion of the overall film.
That doesn’t mean the discussion isn’t worthwhile.
The use of generative AI in filmmaking raises legitimate questions about authorship, artistic labour and the future role of visual-effects artists.
Roth has stated that some of the material originated from hand-drawn artwork he created, which was subsequently developed using AI technology.
If that’s the process, there’s a meaningful distinction between using AI as a tool to manipulate an artist’s own work and simply generating finished imagery from scratch.
Either way, the debate is likely to continue long after the credits roll.
Visually, though, the AI material doesn’t dominate the movie. The film’s identity is still overwhelmingly defined by practical gore, makeup effects and physical stunt work.
SO, IS IT ANY GOOD?
That’s probably the wrong question.
The better question is:
Did you have fun?
Because Ice Cream Man isn’t pretending to be something it isn’t.
It’s a messy, bloody, occasionally cheap-looking, completely excessive horror romp.
And sometimes that’s exactly what you want.
Not every horror film needs to be profound.
Not every villain needs a detailed psychological profile.
Not every death needs to represent the collapse of modern society.
Sometimes a film can simply throw a bucket of blood at the screen and ask you to enjoy yourself.
Ice Cream Man does exactly that.
THE VERDICT
There will absolutely be people who hate this movie.
And, to be fair, they won’t be entirely wrong.
The screenplay can be ridiculous. Some effects look ropey. The characterisation is thin. The story occasionally seems to have been assembled with a chainsaw.
But none of that changes the fact that the film is enormously entertaining when approached on its own terms.
It’s fast.
It’s bloody.
It’s colourful.
It’s weird.
And it’s got enough gleefully depraved energy to keep the whole thing moving.
Most importantly, it isn’t boring.
And in horror, that’s a bigger compliment than it sounds.
Ice Cream Man feels destined for the midnight-movie circuit — the kind of film that audiences rediscover years later, quote endlessly and defend passionately while everyone else wonders what the hell they’re talking about.
It’s not high art.
It’s not trying to be.
It’s a giant tub of cinematic junk food, served cold, covered in blood and absolutely loaded with sprinkles.
★★★½ / 5
THE SCOOP: Come for the ice cream. Stay for the carnage.












