The Thaw opens with a potentially disturbing scene of a blonde woman adorning an open sore on her forehead. Many chattering people are in the background of this shaky-cam film opener and the heightened sense of urgency is on each of their tones. Behind the woman's crying figure is a blowtorch heating up a needle. Carefully positioning her sobbing face still, the hot needle is applied to the wound. A few stunning seconds pass and a tiny larvae protrudes from her creamy-complexioned flesh. At first I was overcome with a premature form of disgust but then the effects of terrible CGI took hold and my muscles relaxed once more. This scene in particular is what happened endlessly throughout the entirety of The Thaw - some suspenseful build up with an incredibly lackluster pay off on every end.
Soon after the opening credits of the film, we (the audience) are force fed one of the most appalling, mind-numbing trends in horror films these days - global warming propaganda and ecoterrorism. Hints that later flourish in an impatient stab to sideswipe with a twist one can see coming from the first time Aaron Ashmore opens his mouth. I hate to say it but the only reason worth watching The Thaw is for the maybe 5 minutes of especially graphic footage wrapping up with the parasitic consumption of multicultural flesh. With the line up in this film, you'd be surprised that this wasn't a high school reunion of the original cast of Saban's Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers. Let's see, you got the chink, the negro, the two lead white couples with a minor bit of sexual tension between the both and that one white guy whose only noticeable effort in the film is making a grab for a gun cause he "inconveniently" has a terrible phobia of insects.
Personally, global warming isn't a very good cinematic mantle piece nor an effective plot device. To move me with terror requires the extraordinary, not dime-a-dozen morality inducing monologues about the stinginess of humanity. I get it, we're shit to our planet that has so graciously given us food, shelter, and all the necessities of life, but I will be damned if some remake of The Last Winter will preach to me what is apparent as the directors with their flashy gas-guzzling cars and spacious condos try to shove their "social commentaries" in my face. Nor do I like it when they shove Val Kilmer's post-mortem "acting" in my face - to which I would more or less credit as a cameo.
You'll find hype for this film as I surprisingly uncovered many "10 star" blessings. I guess Ijust don't "get it." A film with 10 minutes (give or take) of mediocre cinematography and a few key scenes of gross out body horror combined with 80 minutes of coma inducing dialogue and terrible CGI worthy of Lorenzo Lamas' mug shot is enough to make it credible enough to horror fans to rave about. Now I now know why Dreamcatcher is so reviled. While I appreciate the prehistoric reinvention of the Bot fly, I'd rather spend my personal time in purgatory watching reruns of Raptor Island than ever watch this dismal piece of shit again. The only thing I could even mutter as the credits ran was a sternly deserving "eh..."