Greetings, pesky humans: It is I, The Bitter Wolf here! Last night I was hankerin’ for something sweet in The Wolf Cave, but it’s like an hour or something to the closest village that has soft serve, so I decided to just go outside, scoop up some snow, and enjoy a delicious snowball. As luck would have it, some Good Samaritan had actually hand-delivered a gorgeous chocolate soft-serve right to my front door as a nice surprise. When did we get CaveDash out in these parts? No matter! I’m not one to turn down a free ice cream plopped thoughtfully at my stoop at the precise moment I was thinking about it. I sucked it up into my jaws – hm, smells kinda funny - and savored the smooth texture – you know, it tastes kinda funny too. And just as it was dawning on me with horror that this WASN’T, in fact, chocolate soft-serve ice cream hand-delivered by CaveDash, I suddenly remembered . . . Oh my god! I keep forgetting to talk about The Ice Cream Man (1995). I even put it on my calendar this time, but honestly I should never have placed the calendar in the bathroom because when I’ve got to go #2, I’m usually too distracted by doomscrolling on WolfBook to remember to check my to-do list. No matter! I’m fixing that today. I love this movie. It showcases the very best of 90s direct-to-video horror. Have you ever seen THE ICE CREAM MAN? If not, pause here while you remedy that! I'm not the only one who loves home-delivered ice cream! As a kid, Gregory loved when the ice cream man – Butch Brickle, “The Ice Cream King” - would stop by his house and bring him ice cream, too. While his story is much more violent than my own, they both end with unpleasant surprises for both of us! One day, the mafia (or whoever; it’s never explained) forever tainted Gregory’s childhood and his relationship with ice cream by sending some assassins to take out the Ice Cream King right in front of his house. RIP Butch! Who’s going to bring young Gregory ice cream now? The incident traumatizes him, and as a result, Gregory spends the rest of his childhood locked away at Wishing Well Sanatorium, where the doctors care deeply about their patients, as seen in this interaction: Doctor: "We believe in keeping our patients happy. We believe in compassion." Patient: "Help me!" Doctor: "Shut up!" During his stay at Wishing Well, Gregory is subject to medical experimentation and torture, ultimately driving him into homicidal psychosis! But at least while he’s there, he gets to meet Nurse Wharton, played by the beautiful Olivia Hussey. When Gregory’s released from the hospital as an adult, he moves in next door to now-elderly Nurse Wharton, still played by beautiful Olivia Hussey, but they’ve thrown glasses on her so that you know she’s supposed to be old. Anyway, to make ends meet after Wishing Well, Gregory becomes an Ice Cream Man himself, and soon kids and adults alike begin to go missing in this peaceful little suburb! Gregory just can’t help his murderous impulses to turn each of his customers into frosty ice cream sundaes . . . with a human head on top! Yum! We are introduced to our main group of friends. They call themselves The Rocketeers - Racer, Tuna, Heather, and Small Paul. We also meet Roger, who pisses off the Ice Cream Man when he fails to say “please” when ordering his ice cream and later goes missing. But The Rocketeers are on the case, and they are determined to expose the Ice Cream Man and end his reign of terror. Here’s some random thoughts about this:
Eventually, the Ice Cream Man kidnaps Small Paul and they connect over the fact that they were both sick and stuck inside when they were younger. We see a softer side to this soft-serve sadist! But it won’t last long. He’s a quipping killer after all, so he’s gotta come through with the zingers:
Personally, I would have liked if the Ice Cream Man had terrorized even more, but there’s plenty of kills to enjoy, and the third act of this movie delivers a lot of funny and gruesome moments. But the question remains . . . is Small Paul destined to become the next Ice Cream Man? And there you have it, folks! Generational trauma. Oh, and don’t eat stuff you find on the ground! It’s never going to be ice cream. Love, The Bitter Wolf
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