Ice Cream Man (2026)

An idyllic summer town descends into madness when an ice cream man serves kids sweet delights with horrifying results.

Ice Cream Man arrives with the kind of premise that could have been a gleefully chaotic entry in the modern slasher revival. A bright, candy‑coated world hiding something sinister. A villain with a memorable silhouette. A town that looks pulled from a storybook. Children behaving in ways that push the boundaries of genre. On paper, it has the ingredients for a cult favourite. Eli Roth clearly wants to create a film that leans into excess, embraces absurdity, and pays homage to the outrageous gore of early 2000s horror. The problem is not the ambition. The problem is that the film rushes toward carnage before building anything substantial enough to support it.

The story begins in Bayleen Bay, a sunny coastal town where everything looks cheerful and safe. It is the perfect setting for a horror film that wants to contrast innocence with brutality. Roth leans heavily into this aesthetic. The colours are bright. The houses look like they belong in a picture book. The ice cream truck is decorated with cheerful illustrations that feel slightly off. There is a sense that something is wrong, but the film never lingers long enough on atmosphere to let that tension build.

The arrival of the ice cream man, played by Ari Millen, is framed as the catalyst for everything that follows. Millen has a presence that could have been used to great effect. His smile is unsettling. His truck is strange. His flavours have names that hint at danger. There is potential here for a villain who blends camp, menace, and mystery. Unfortunately, the film is not interested in exploring who he is or why he exists. He is simply a device to move the story toward its next violent moment.

The children of Bayleen Bay begin acting strangely after eating the ice cream. Their behaviour shifts. Their faces change. Their energy becomes unnerving. This is where the film could have leaned into psychological horror or slow‑burn dread. Instead, it jumps straight into chaos. The kids become violent, and the film becomes a series of gore sequences stitched together with minimal connective tissue. The novelty of children committing acts of horror is initially shocking, but the film repeats the idea so often that it loses impact.

Roth has always enjoyed pushing boundaries, and there are moments where his creativity shows. Some of the practical effects are impressive. The kills are staged with a sense of theatricality. The contrast between colourful sets and brutal violence creates a visual style that could have been memorable. The problem is not the gore itself. The problem is that the film relies on gore as its only tool. Without character development, world-building, or emotional stakes, the violence becomes repetitive rather than escalating.

The film attempts dark comedy, and there are brief moments where it works. Everyday household objects become weapons. Situations escalate in absurd ways. There is a playful energy in the early scenes that hints at what the film could have been. However, the humour often leans into shock value rather than wit. A few jokes feel careless, especially when referencing sensitive topics. The tone becomes inconsistent, shifting between camp, cruelty, and slapstick without finding a rhythm.

The cast does what they can with limited material. Charlie Zeltzer, playing Jared, is one of the few characters given any sense of awareness. His suspicion of the ice cream man could have anchored the story, but the film does not give him enough space to develop. Other characters exist primarily to react to chaos or become part of it. This lack of investment in the people of Bayleen Bay makes it difficult to care about what happens to them.

The film’s pacing is another challenge. Once the violence begins, it rarely slows down. There is no rise and fall, no tension and release. The kills arrive in rapid succession, and the film seems eager to move from one set piece to the next. This approach might work in a short film or a stylised anthology segment, but stretched across a feature-length runtime, it becomes exhausting. Even the most creative moments lose impact when they are not supported by narrative progression.

There is an attempt to introduce backstory late in the film. It gestures toward classic horror origins and tries to give the ice cream man a mythology. Unfortunately, this arrives too late and too quickly to matter. The explanation feels rushed, and the twist is predictable. A stronger script could have woven this lore throughout the film, giving the villain depth and giving the audience something to latch onto beyond the spectacle.

Despite its flaws, Ice Cream Man is not without merit. Roth’s commitment to practical effects is admirable. The film’s colourful aesthetic is visually appealing. The idea of a cheerful town descending into chaos has potential. The concept of children becoming the threat is bold, even if the execution falters. There are moments where the film feels like it is on the verge of becoming something memorable, something that embraces its absurdity with confidence and craft.

The issue is not that the film is silly or extreme. Horror has always thrived on excess. The issue is that the film does not build a foundation strong enough to support its wildest ideas. Without character arcs, emotional stakes, or narrative structure, the gore becomes noise. The film could have explored themes of innocence corrupted, community collapse, or the dangers of nostalgia. Instead, it chooses speed over substance.

For viewers who enjoy pure splatter cinema, Ice Cream Man may offer enough chaotic energy to entertain. The kills are inventive. The visuals are colourful. The tone is unapologetically wild. But for viewers who want story, suspense, or character, the film may feel hollow. It is a showcase of effects rather than a cohesive narrative.

Still, it is worth acknowledging that the film had potential. With more patience in the script, more attention to character, and more willingness to build tension before unleashing chaos, Ice Cream Man could have been a clever, campy addition to the slasher genre. It could have embraced its playful aesthetic while delivering a story that mattered. It could have been a film that balanced gore with heart.

Instead, it is a film that races toward carnage and never looks back. It is messy, loud, colourful, and relentless. It is not what it could have been, but it is undeniably committed to its own identity.

Ice Cream Man was released on August 6, 2026.

Review written by Alex Moulton