Director Brian Kirk manages to set quite the tone within the first minutes of his icy thriller Dead of Winter, with Emma Thompson‘s Barb navigating the snowy environment in the isolated Minnesotan wilderness she has ventured into to spread the ashes of her recently deceased husband. The emotionality conjured through Barb’s motivation offsets the terrifying discovery she unwillingly stumbles upon when, asking for directions, she learns a young woman is being held against her will in the basement of the dwelling she visits for said directions. What follows is a cat-and-mouse narrative that Nicholas Jacobson-Larson and Dalton Leeb‘s script entertainingly weaves against one woman’s determination to honour the memory of one life, whilst preserving the future of another.
The man who gives her directions, simply credited as “Camo Jacket” (Marc Menchaca), due so to his attire, has a suspicious energy to him, and though Barb notices his odd demeanor when they are conversing, she doesn’t entirely press for her own safety. As she prepares to set up on the frozen lake – Lake Hilda – she witnesses Camo Jacket chasing a young woman out of the woods, threatening her with a rifle, and dragging her back to his compound. Barb, immediately feeling a sense of protection towards the woman, Leah (Laurel Marsden), follows him back, only to then be shot at and wounded by the “Purple Lady” (Judy Greer), another attire-related moniker, whose particular aggression very much sets her up as the brains of whatever operation is being carried out.
Whilst the reasoning for Leah being targeted by Purple Lady is not the most obvious, Dead of Winter, for the most part of its 98 minutes, follows a certain set of genre rules. It’s not groundbreaking, but it also leans into the notion of “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” and it’s difficult to deny how tense a thriller the film proves to be; not to mention that it delights in the fact it has two women of a certain age leading the type of project so often reserved for ageing men.
Though Leah drives so much of the motivation behind the actions of both Purple Lady and Barb, Dead of Winter is very much a three-person act between Thompson, Greer and Menchaca, and it’s their opposing personalities – alongside the vast whiteness of the dread-filled Finland location (the country subbing in for north Minnesota) – that elevate the film beyond its relative simplicities. The script aims for some affecting incentive by giving Barb a backstory regarding the relationship with her husband (Thompson’s own daughter, Gaia Wise, portraying the young Barb in flashbacks), and though it’s mildly effective, it often takes away the film’s more thrilling momentum; it’s a minor criticism, but the tension is noticeably deflated when it cuts back at occasional inopportune moments.
As much as Dead of Winter could have become more an action-heavy effort, the film grounds its physicality as much as it can, with Barb handling herself adequately, but not in a manner that makes her seem somewhat super-human. She’s smart in how she thwarts Purple Lady and Camo Jacket’s intentions, she brandishes a weapon as an amateur would, and, where she can, she hopes her intellect and articulation will get her out of harm’s way. It’s a wise choice, and though action fans may feel a little underwhelmed, it adds to the organic nature of the story’s tension. Ultimately, Dead of Winter proves an absolute thrill off the notion of Thompson stepping outside the dramatic and comedic spaces she’s most known for. She’s an action heroine in the most unlikely sense, carrying a mature-minded thriller that serves as a welcome reminder of the value of the mid-range genre piece.
THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Dead of Winter is now screening in Australian theatres.
