Joseph Kahn possesses a distinctive ability to deliver rapid-fire story beats with the speed and intensity of an Olympic sprint. Many of his classic shots can be seen in Torque (2004). Kahn has directed music videos for major artists like Mariah Carey, Taylor Swift, DJ Khaled, and The Jonas Brothers. His last major film that premiered at TIFF 2017 was the music dramedy Bodied. For TIFF 2024, Kahn has brought a satirical horror and sci-fi flick, Ick.
In the small American town of Eastbrook, it’s been twenty years since a Stranger Things-like vine growth, known as “the Ick,” invaded the world. Strangely enough, the general public is completely unfazed by this parasitic alien anomaly. The story primarily follows Hank Wallace (Brandon Routh), a former high-school football prospect turned hapless science teacher and his perceptive student Grace (Malina Pauli Weissman)—who are the only ones skeptical about how dangerous the Ick actually is.
The film excels in its dialogue delivery, skillfully subverting expectations and nailing comedic timing through various characters’ actions. The satirical symbolism, nostalgia, and humour carried the movie. Much of the dialogue mimicked rhetoric surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic, anti-vaxxing, politically correct language, and wokeness. These lines made me chuckle and convinced me that the film contains some intellectual comedy.
The film’s charm and humour are further enhanced by the rock music of the ’90s and early 2000s that Hank listens to, including hits from bands like Blink-182 and Sum 41. This nostalgic soundtrack made me laugh at my younger self, who listened to those songs constantly.
“The Ick was ridiculously cheap, almost worse than VFX on a TV budget.”
Routh excelled in his role as the lovable jock whose life fell apart after high school and who had to find a way to move forward after losing his football career. Weissman’s portrayal of Grace brought incisive and clever remarks. Ick pushed the actors to deliver these fast lines, with cuts that were often so quick they bordered on nauseating. This rapid pacing worked at times and failed at others. Anytime Grace and Routh’s character interacted, she would throw in a quip like, “Ew, stop being a pedo, Mr. Wallace.”
Everything else about this film was a disappointing mess. Whether it was production issues that didn’t translate well or logistical problems behind the scenes, Ick left me with the same feeling as when parents make a promise they can’t keep. There was so much potential with Routh and Weissman, who delivered strong performances, but the story and CGI/VFX went completely off the rails.
The Ick was ridiculously cheap, almost worse than VFX on a TV budget. The animation was icky in its own right, making my skin crawl for all the wrong reasons. The look of the Ick was upsetting, especially when people were slowly affected by the alien entity. It felt like someone had digitally painted the veiny, gooey black vines onto the characters—not like a substance interacting with the actors’ bodies.
It was hard to tell if there was a mix of makeup effects because there was so much digital Ick everywhere. The only positive aspect of the black vines and goo effects was when characters were washed away by it—that was done well. In every other moment, the Ick hit the uncanny valley, failing to look or feel real, even as it consumed the characters. It came across as a cheaper version of the vines and black matter from the Upside Down in Stranger Things. Vecna would not be happy with this Ick.
“The scariest part of the film was how bad the Ick looked.”
The second frustrating aspect of Ick was its execution of storytelling. I respected the quick 5-7-minute montage of Hank’s backstory with his high school girlfriend, Staci (Mena Suvari). This was lightspeed pacing that set the tone for the movie—for what kind of comedy and drama will follow. There was a huge amount of speed-ramping in this scene, along with weird transitions—artistic sometimes. It fell flat when the cinematography felt like a commercial, though; it is that frame rate that looked like most of the average commercials on TV.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when characters don’t have much of a reaction when someone they love dies. This film had that, and I was perplexed. It felt like the plot was only driven forward to get certain characters to their endpoints. The worst is seeing a narrative reach its conclusion through forced or nonsensical choices. While the movie aimed to subvert expectations, there are better ways to achieve that.
Ick was maddening and disappointing, especially for what initially seemed like an intelligent concept. On paper, it should have worked. But with its 1-hour, 27-minute runtime, it felt like a waste of time. The scariest part of the film was how bad the Ick looked. The heartwarming moments were icy cold, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for Routh, Suvari, and Weissman for being part of a film that fell into its own icky mess.
Check out more of CGMagazine’s TIFF 2024 coverage here throughout the festival.
