Age of Ice |
USA • 2014 • 85m •
 • Directed by: Emile Edwin Smith. • Starring: Barton Bund, Bailey Spry, Jules Hartley, Owais Ahmed, Joe Cipriano, John Gragen, Yaron Urbas, Wasim No'mani, Revon Yousif, Ali Amine, Wilfried Capet, Sue Dankha, Luca Bello. • Music by: Isaac Sprintis.      When sudden and massive earthquakes open the Arabian tectonic plate, the result is unstable weather and freezing temperatures that will be unsurvivable by nightfall. Attempting to reach safety, a vacationing American family in Egypt, the Jones', must battle the rapidly cooling temperatures that usher in a new Ice Age, covering the Sphinx, Pyramids, and Sahara Desert with mountains of snow.
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Review:
Dolts! The lot of them.
Any herd animal can muster enough wit to insult a bad film. But it takes those of refined tastes, well-travelled sensibilities, and continental flair, to spot the gems within the countless piles of rubbish.
While this might not be in my top 50 films of all time, it does rank a great deal higher than these fools are giving it. However, to be fair, it does seem rather dreadful on the surface, so who can blame some of them for hating it? They are, after all, most adept at recognizing only that which floats at the surface.
But of course, if you've only ever consumed off-brand generic Kool-Aid your entire life, how ecstatic are you going to be over a glass of fine Chianti? And as is the case with some wines, there are ideas, concepts, metaphors, and characters which benefit from their lack of appeal to the most common of the "common" people. This film is just such a wine. While it might not be at the level of, say, a Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru (which I of course have in my cellar), it is very palatable, with top notes of symbolism, a broad and complicated body, with a lovely sardine and arugula finish, and lashings of crème de gorotz and Morbier fromage. In fact, as I sit here typing this, in my smoking jacket and Salvatore Ferragamo slippers, I can only think to myself, good! I'm glad the little people don't appreciate this film, much in the same way as I am thankful they also don't appreciate my most beloved wines, clothing, and restaurants. For you see, that would be most problematic, wouldn't it? Some things are best left to those who can fully savour their intricate, delicate, and often difficult-to-grasp dance of flavors, textures, colours, and fragrance.
And this is just such a film.
At face value, it's little more than a cheaply produced sci-fi adventure with C-grade actors. But then, isn't the Henri Jayer Richebourg mentioned earlier little more than small moldy grapes which are unfit to eat, which have been mashed, then put away for some years? Sometimes, but not exceedingly often, a truly grand thing of delightful rarity is significantly more than the sum of its parts. And this has never been more the case than with this pungent and delectable work of cinematic excellence. Do not judge this as a film, but rather, as a masterfully conducted orchestration of parts which come together in such a fashion as to incite more than mere enjoyment. It inspires, excites, motivates, delights, entrances, and lubricates dialogue towards such a vast array of themes and ideas as to loudly exclaim: "this is not entertainment, this is poetry!" Look, for instance, at the main character. Break it down. What is his name, and how is it spelled? How many letters? See where I'm going with this? You can thank me now. Go ahead. Do it! And what about the character of Diane Jones? How does she change throughout the film? And why? Notice how the two characters interact. See any relation to things happening currently in our chaotic world? Also, who dies? And when? And why? Perhaps now you are finally beginning to see that what's actually happening in this film has about as much to do with natural disaster as Animal Farm had to do with livestock.
While perhaps not the most brilliant of the allegorical films of the last several decades, it is executed very well. To say it will provoke thought in the areas of religion, politics, race, and sanitation, is an understatement.
You WILL watch this film again. And you will learn to appreciate it. Oh yes, yes you will.
Thank me now! And make it sincere, schwein!
There is a great deal more to say, but I've been informed by my servants that the truffle-infused gorgonzola stuffed figs in a blanket with honey balsamic glazed escargot appetisers are ready. To break with tradition, I'll be pairing it with Sharkleberry Fin flavoured unsweetened Kool-Aid.
Review by Horse_Caulk from the Internet Movie Database.
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