I guess Bodied pissed off too many people. There’s so many horror distributors these days, it’s amazing that no one wanted to see if Ick could really hack it in the movie theaters for a couple weeks. I guess no one wanted to take the ick director Joseph Kahn brings with all of his movies, guaranteed to piss off everyone, including the bankrollers. I’m not a betting man, but that will be a long term mistake; Ick is destined for midnight movies across the world, and will find a sneaky sized audience as a perfect double feature with The Blob.
After the backstory from 2002 (VERY Important to Ick) we meeting present day science teacher Hank (Brandon Routh) of Eastbrook High School. Hank peaked at said school, as star quarterback with the cheerleader girlfriend Staci (Mena Suvari). Hank is reminded of Staci constantly, teaching her daughter Grace (Malina Weissman). Oh, and because of the “ick,” this Stranger Things looking black vine substance that caused Hank’s career ending football injury and pervades all of Eastbrook, as well as most of the country.
Music video directors, this is how you call in your favors. The 2002ness of Ick oozes from every tendril in large part thanks to the movie’s soundtrack. Kahn’s got all the pop punk from the era: All American Rejects, Wheatus, Dashboard Confessional, The Killers, Creed, Hoobastank, and many more, to populate his movie. And not just at a party montage, no. These songs are essential to the movie’s storytelling, with Routh the ideal delivery vehicle in his black haired, pale, emo vibes inside a town that hasn’t changed since he’s been in high school. This gives Joseph Kahn cover to go after his desired targets: the privileged (mostly) white people of suburbia. He has the most fun with Grace’s boyfriend Dylan (Harrison Cone): a walking annoying hypocrite using the terms and verbiage of wokeness as his weapons, to essentially get girls to open their hearts…and legs. No one is safe here: our supposed hero Hank is easier to mock than to root for (including the funniest exchange in the movie), and Grace wallows in self pity ignorant to the pain and suffering around her. There’s a “f*ck you” energy to the movie that gives it forward momentum Kahn utilizes when he decides its times for the bodies to hit the floor (criminally not licensed for this film).
But our pissed off director doesn’t stop there. In updating The Blob for the modern day, he’s twisted that existential dread of the 1950s movie into a rot and decay of Ick. Places like Eastbrook appear nice to the average outsider, but the longer you’re there, the more the ick makes itself known. The rare few find a way out, but most? The Ick eventually consumes you, replacing your pain and feelings with the shell of the best version of yourself…but in present day. The ick in the sunlight (read: society) reverts back inside, but at night, alone, is when its power grows, leading to those bad thoughts to bubble back to the surface. Kahn telegraphs all of the societal ills through the ick, many times too on the nose, but his blunt, terse approach makes this commentary more effective than it isn’t, swing, swing, swinging from the tangles of your heart.
I know Ick is being pitched as horror comedy, but it’s really more a comedic period piece evisceration. I have conflicted feelings about loving the music all over this movie; Joseph Kahn confirmed and validated those feelings for me after watching this blade to my chest, while I’m screaming infidelities, and taking its wear. I only wish Kahn had used Crawling in the Dark as the Hoobastank song instead of The Reason. I know the latter is more popular, but damn if the first wouldn’t be an incredible montage song burning back the ick into the ground.