In 2016, I gave Jack Frost a one-star review, calling it “bad, even by movie-about-a-killer-snowman standards.” I was wrong.
The film opens with Federal agents transporting serial killer Jack Frost to his execution. Icy road conditions cause the paddy wagon to collide with a top-secret government tanker truck. The truck’s contents spray out and melt Frost’s skin and bones. His liquid remains merge with the snow, transforming him into a living snowman. Free and presumed dead, Frost sets out to settle a score with the man who captured him.
Revisiting the film, I grasped the aesthetic I missed the first time around: a loving homage to early ’80s slasher and monster movies. It takes the traditional knife-wielding maniac or mutant monster and replaces them with a snowman. Otherwise, the film plays it straight.
Kudos to Christopher Allport who delivers an underrated but charismatic performance as the beleaguered small-town sheriff targeted by the killer snowman. (There’s a sentence I never thought I’d type.)
Anyway, I enjoyed the film. Walking the tonal tightrope of wink-wink comedy and genuine horror, it stumbles at times, but not for want of effort. It always feels like a labor of love, and I’m glad I gave it a second look.