Thompson is a formidable foe in fun, snowy thriller
The chill is as palpable as the midwest accents in Dead of Winter, a brisk 90-minute thriller that compensates for some glaring plot holes with an otherwise engrossing story and a stellar, go-for-broke performance by Emma Thompson.
The Oscar-winning actress forgoes all vanity as Barb, a tough-as-nails, coverall-wearing fisherwoman who sets out to scatter her late husband’s ashes near their favorite Minnesota lake in the heart (er, dead) of winter. Dead is the more apt description, given the danger Barb unwittingly happens upon while trying to honor her husband’s wishes. Hearing gunshots in the distance just as she arrives at the fictional Lake Hilda, Barb asks directions from a skittish man at an isolated house. There she discovers Leah (Laurel Marsden), a young woman being held captive in the home’s basement.
Leah has been kidnapped by a nameless couple, listed in the credits based on their attire as Purple Lady (Judy Greer) and Camo Jacket (Marc Menchaca). First-time screenwriters (and Minnesota natives) Nicholas Jacobson-Larson and Dalton Leeb take their time spooling out just why Leah has been taken, and exactly what this strange husband and wife duo intend to do with her. Director Brian Kirk ratchets up the tension, directing Thompson to a Liam Neeson-esque, kick-ass performance that’s fun to watch even as the screenplay begins to strain credulity. At one point Barb sews up her own arm wound with fishing line, in a scene that’s far removed from the demure Jane Austen films of Thompson’s early career.
Thompson seems to have prepared for this role by watching Fargo incessantly, channeling Frances McDormand’s Marge, only with more “uff das” “fiddlesticks”, “aw hecks” and “oh boys” than you can shake a hot dish at. But contrasting down-home midwest earnestness with psychotic, violent sociopaths worked well for the Coen Brothers for a reason. Kirk and company manage to bring some freshness to that incongruity, even as they pay unabashed homage to the formula. Cinematographer Christopher Ross (Shogun; Day of the Jackal) helps set the dire tone with his stark but beautiful unrelenting snowy landscape shots, which, although filmed in Europe and not Minnesota, underscore the remoteness of the action and the peril facing Barb and Leah.
Greer and Menchaca make for memorable villains, with Greer’s desperate, unhinged wife countered by Menchaca’s more passive, emotionally exhausted husband. And in a bit of brilliant nepo-baby casting, Thompson’s daughter, Gaia Wise, who bears a striking resemblance to her mother, plays Barb in a handful of flashback scenes, highlighting Barb’s grit even as a young woman.
As an edge-of-your-seat thriller, the picture succeeds in grabbing us, making us care about our heroines, and locking us into the story, eager to find out what happens next. And while we may question why someone with Barb’s wherewithal would be so careless as to drop a mitten or write on a window—both mistakes bound to catch the attention of the kidnappers—we’re willing to suspend some disbelief in the interest of rolling with the otherwise arresting story. The motive for the kidnapping, too, when finally revealed, stretches plausibility, but by the time that arrives, we’re already so invested in Barb and Leah that we’re willing to forgive the screenwriters. We just want Barb and Leah to defeat the baddies. Uff da indeed.
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Dead of Winter is now playing in theaters.
