Not a single scene works as anything more than a total waste of good film.
With a perplexing tale and some very odd creative choices, it's so easy to laugh at The Snowman, but this kind of tale shouldn't inspire laughter.
In this soul-deadening freeze, who wouldn't seek solace in a bottle? Or in the physical warmth of a lover's arms? Or in mass murder?
One of the most shockingly awful wastes of talent imaginable, this adaptation of Jo Nesbo's thriller is mostly incoherent and, just when it starts to make sense, it is hijacked by a series of laughably bad clich�s.
A twisty tale of inexplicable red herrings, baffling plot detours, and Chloe Sevigny as not one but two identical chicken farmers.
The movie plays as if he threw in the towel in the editing room. It's a stiff.
It's bad. A bit of a full-on Nesb�ner, in fact.
It's a pity, because there's some squirmy vitality in the hothouse premise.
That look isn't enough to overcome a sluggish pace and increasingly implausible plot. Frozen red herrings are still red herrings.