The Ice Tower
Buoyed by a fantastic central performance from newcomer Clara Pacini, the latest from Lucile Hadžihalilović bears both the best of this French filmmaker's work and its recurring problems
The Ice Tower is a suitably eccentric return for Lucile Hadžihalilović. It's a fairytale that's equal parts messy and mesmeric, presenting a shadowy vision of the dreamworld of 70s filmmaking; one coloured by hope, magnetic glamour, and nightmarish dynamics.
When runaway teenage orphan Jeanne (newcomer Clara Pacini) stumbles into a filming of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen, she’s immediately fascinated by the film’s Dietrich-like diva of a star, Cristina (an imperious Marion Cotillard). Taken under the star’s wing and brought further into both the film and Christina’s influence, we follow as fiction and reality become increasingly intertwined.
As with Hadžihalilović's 2021 body-horror Earwig, The Ice Tower leans towards the baggy and its plot has a tendency to drag. Her cinematic fairytales appear to work best when their narratives are pared back to their essence, such as with 2015’s Evolution. This latest work is clear-eyed and timely in its take on both the appeal and exploitative power of idolatry, but its patchwork of influences (Fassbinder, Cocteau, and, indeed, Peter Strickland all hang heavy) has it wandering in too many directions at once.
Hadžihalilović remains, however, a master of imagery and atmosphere above all else. There is rich, intriguing framing here, and the film drifts on a brilliantly judged bed of nauseous tension, even as it sinks deeper into somnambular fugue. In this knotty unease and Pacini’s superbly restrained performance, there is a fantastic portrayal of the hopes and pains of adolescence, and a further demonstration of Hadžihalilović as a singular and always interesting filmmaker.
Released 21 Nov by BFI; certificate 15