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THE ICE TOWER Director: Lucile Hadžihalilović Cast: Marion Cotillard, Clara Pacini, August Diehl, Marine Gesbert, Lila-Rose Gilberti, Gaspar Noé, Dounia Sichov, Valentina Vezzoso, Cassandre Louis Urbain MPAA
Rating: Running Time: 1:57 Release Date: 10/3/25 (limited) |
Review by Mark Dujsik | October 2, 2025 Life is no fairy tale, even when it may seem to be like one. That's the lesson for the young protagonist of The Ice Tower, in which an orphaned girl falls under the spell of a gorgeous actress whose mere existence promises many things. Co-writer/director Lucile Hadžihalilović's blending of reality and fantasy here is as alluring as it needs to be for the core of this tale to work, but its reliance on visuals and broad archetypes leaves one—to use and beg forgiveness for the obvious pun—a bit cold. The story is set somewhere in France at some point during the 1970s, which is only relevant because most of the plot wouldn't function in modern times. At a remote orphanage, a girl named Jeanne (newcomer Clara Pacini) lives a mostly lonely life, apart from her sister-like relationship with a younger child who loves when the older girl tells her stories. A favorite of both is Hans Christian Anderson's "The Snow Queen," and with Christmas approaching in this mountainous region, the landscape surrounding the orphanage almost looks like something out of a storybook. Immediately, Hadžihalilović and cinematographer Jonathan Ricquebourg establish an almost dream-like feel and a dreary mood to the sights here—as lush as the backdrops themselves and as ordinary as the natural lighting in the assorted rooms of the orphanage. Nothing for Jeanne seems to hold any promise in her current situation, so without warning or anyone noticing, she sneaks out in the night, starts walking toward a nearby city, and hitches a ride with a random driver along the way. The man, who seems polite and says he'll take the girl to an ice rink from the photo of a postcard a former resident sent her, might not be as he seems, though, and while Jeanne may not have much experience with the world, a potential threat of a man like this surely must appear in at least one of the stories she knows. The world is uncaring, cruel, and full of possible danger, in other words, and Jeanne's short trip to and in the town keeps proving that point. A teenaged skater at the rink, for example, is quite curt with the girl, after she compliments the teen on her skating skills, and with no place to stay for the night, Jeanne sneaks inside the basement window of a building, follows some narrow hallways surrounded by plywood walls, and finds, much to her surprise, a pile of shimmering cloth on the floor, laid out like fine bedding just for her. Dreams come and, in a way, become real, because Jeanne is actually on a movie set, where a crew is busy making an adaptation of the Anderson fairy tale. It starts Cristina (Marion Cotillard), whom the orphan first spots through a slit in the set backdrop—walking toward her in a white dress, all aglow from the assorted stage lights, looking even more like some radiant vision than she could imagine. It's notable, perhaps, that Cotillard's mere presence as some fantastical entity of ethereal beauty while playing the Snow Queen is more intriguing as a character than the one Hadžihalilović and Geoff Cox's script actually gives her. Cristina is superficially a puzzle but practically not much of one. After making herself part of the crew under a fake name, Jeanne soon starts overhearing people speak of the actress. She's difficult to work with and demanding and, basically, a "diva," but Jeanne only sees what she sees—what the actress, perhaps, only allows the girl to see—of Cristina. The movie's own perspective is slightly indecisive in that regard, especially as Jeanne's dreams of being part of the story being told in the movie start to mesh with the reality of her becoming a more significant player in the filming itself. Cristina has a tricky relationship with one of her co-stars (played by Marine Gesbert), who is convinced the actress is intentionally sabotaging her work or even trying to hurt her (The movie's director, played by filmmaker—and, as a piece of trivia, Hadžihalilović's husband—Gaspar Noé, likes the co-star but knows he has to appease his current star). Gradually, Jeanne becomes a stand-in and, later, a replacement for the supporting player, making her connection to Cristina one in which the fantasy of the Snow Queen character and the reality of the troubled—or worse—actress behind the scenes begin to blur. The visuals and rhythm of Hadžihalilović's movie certainly lull us into this illusion in the same way Jeanne must be experiencing it, akin to a fairy tale being told to a sleepy child. There are flashes that something is amiss with Cristina, such as a smirk after a crow gives her co-star some trouble and the presence of her friend/"doctor" Max (August Diehl), whose dressing-room visits leave the actress in an apparently altered state. By the time Jeanne realizes what the star really wants from her, it's almost a surprise, although mainly because it's both so extreme and seems to come from nowhere. The revelation, though, is nothing new or special within the context of the rest of The Ice Tower and its lesson for the story's young protagonist. The movie creates a haunting and uncomfortable atmosphere of uncertainty, to be sure, but in terms of its characters and its message, it is also, unfortunately, fairly hollow, too. Copyright © 2025 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved. |
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