Movies like Ick are rare these days. Horror-comedies themselves remain prevalent. To nail that delicate tonal balance and produce something enduring is another matter entirely. Folks, Ick is the horror comedy we’ve been waiting for. Houston, Texas-based filmmaker Joseph Kahn blends creature feature, goofy farce, and a genuine message about being authentically yourself in an irresistibly anarchic blast of a genre picture that feels all but guaranteed to find a devoted audience.
In the early 2000s, Hank (Brandon Routh) is at the top of his game. He soars as a high school football quarterback, dates the Prom Queen Staci (Mena Suvari), and has a great relationship with his bar owner father (Jeff Fahey). All of that comes crashing down when an accident on the field leads to Hank losing his sports prospects and his girlfriend to the seemingly nerdy Ted Kim (Peter Wong).
Cut to the present. Hank is still in his hometown of Eastbrook, working as a science teacher in the school where he was once king. He’s resigned himself to a life of being made fun of by his students, save for the bright Grace (Malina Weissman), who happens to be Staci and Ted’s daughter. His quiet resignation comes to an end when a persistent, goopy growth in the town known as “The Ick” begins massively expanding, taking over the bodies and minds of the townsfolk and wrecking its structures. Hank decides to finally make something of himself by saving Eastbrook, a quest that gains an extra complication when he realizes Grace might be his daughter.
Immediately, Ick overloads the audience with personality. A prologue about Hank’s high school rise and fall, complete with some hilarious and kind of impressive de-aging of Routh and Suvari, is packed to the brim with sight gags and clever dialogue. This isn’t a joke a minute; it’s a joke every few seconds, and most of them land.
The whole cast hits it out of the park in Ick, delivering joke after joke nonstop.
Backed by a treasure trove of early to mid-2000s bangers by bands like All-American Rejects, Dashboard Confessional, and Good Charlotte, the editing by Chancler Haynes keeps an ADD breakneck pace. It’s hard to keep that energy up for a 92-minute runtime. Joseph Kahn and company not only sustain the wild vibe, but they also continue to up the ante.
Significant praise goes to Brandon Routh. The Superman Returns and Legends of Tomorrow actor may be mostly known for playing a caped crusader of yesteryear, yet that’s never been entirely fair to his talents. As Harry, his charm is almost smothering, slipping into the role of a good-natured man who can also be a bit of a dingus sometimes. That’s almost selling it short.
Routh is the film’s anchor, adding a large depth to Harry, as a man filled with regret over letting his life stall out and encouraging Grace not to make the same mistakes as him. As Grace, Malina Weissman gives a star-making turn. She’s a spunky teen, sure, but contains multitudes often not afforded to teen characters like this. Between this and Netflix‘s A Series of Unfortunate Events, she’s one to watch.
Honestly, the whole cast is terrific. It’s nice to see Mena Suvari back on our screens, Peter Wong’s Ted Kim gets maybe the most laughs of the movie as an unlikely alpha male, and Taia Sophia and Zeke Jones are swoon-worthy as a goth/sensitive artist pairing you are practically begging to get together. The performances rock across the board due to their commitment to Joseph Kahn’s wild vision, and a wild vision it is. Some jokes are funny for the sake of being funny, others serve a wider purpose of lampooning how people are afraid to think for themselves.
Ick never forgets the horror in its horror-comedy, giving plenty for fans to squirm over.
Ick skewers hyper-conservative “free thinkers” who will just repeat what they’ve heard, as well as ill-meaning teenage boys who will weaponize therapy language and socially conscious terms to mask patriarchal bad behavior. It’s not the confrontational “both sides of the aisle are bad” approach that Ari Aster‘s Eddington was accused of. Rather, it’s more of a creed against blind conformity that gives Ick its punk rock streak.
As a horror-comedy, it’s important that Ick has some horror, and boy, does it have a lot. The all-encompassing Ick, which resembles a cross between tree branches, The Blob, and the black goo from Prometheus, transforms the bodies of those it takes over into malleable homunculi. For a lower-budget film, Ick looks great. The visual effects are goopy, tactile, and just a wee bit cheesy, as they should be. Cinematographer David C. Weldon, Jr. crafts one sharp-looking, B-movie style aesthetic.
As a Houston native, it was extra special to me to see the chaos that the Ick wreaks being shot in the Houston area. Even without that personal connection, there’s a gargantuan amount of carnage being wreaked that’d be difficult not to make even the most jaded of horror fanatics crack a smile. Think the tendril-infested, messy antics of Resident Evil, or, more recently, The Gorge.
It’s hard to believe that Ick is written by three people, with Joseph Kahn on screenwriting duties, with Dan Koontz and Samuel Laskey. That’s because all of the disparate elements- crazy comedy, over-the-top horror, and genuine rebellion against conformity – combine their flavors into a tasty broth that I couldn’t stop lapping up. Above all, Ick is just so much fun, a bravely original genre mish-mash that radiates the kind of personality that begs to be canonized as a cult film. To put it simply, Ick does not give audiences the ick.
Ick was released in a limited engagement by Fathom Events on July 27-July 29.
Ick (2025)
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9/10
TL;DR
Ick is just so much fun, a bravely original genre mish-mash that radiates the kind of personality that begs to be canonized as a cult film.