Gregory Jacobs‘ Wind Chill reminds us that Halloween isn’t the only holiday that can yield ghoulish results under the right conditions. When you get right down to it, Christmas has just the same potential for inspiring terror. Apart from snowy scares and pensive plot twists, this 2007 haunter proves that beneath a veil of pure snow can lie something truly sinister. Which is exactly what happens when the movie’s characters chance upon a frigid, remote corner of rural Pennsylvania. As they wait out the biting cold that traps them there, they soon succumb to the dead of winter.
The movie begins shortly before Christmas. Two college students — whose lack of names is possibly a nod to the anonymity inherent to any spook tale passed down from one generation to another — are sharing a car ride home to Delaware. Mind you, the “Guy” (Ashton Holmes) and “Girl” (Emily Blunt) have never spoken to each other until now. While en route to their destination, the Guy suddenly pulls off the highway and drives down the less traveled Route 606 in hopes of a “scenic detour.” Anyone who has been waiting for the other shoe to drop will not be disappointed. What essentially starts off as a stalker movie with perhaps a dash of survival-horror thrown in for good measure eventually changes shape by the second act. By that, the story transforms into something else altogether. Something better.
When the Guy’s car careens off the snowy road in this all but isolated ravine, the two passengers are left stranded. Night falls and the cold sets in. Finding help is out of the question till morning. At this point, the Guy’s intentions are as clear as day, but a romantic ruse is the least of their problems. Meaning, right outside the car are manifestations of the past. Memories of murder. These ghosts are the casualties of the infamous Route 606 — victims of unsolved crimes who became nothing more than urban legends — and the corrupt patrolman (Martin Donovan) behind the many misdeeds. Through fate or coincidence, our characters have come across a paranormal nexus where time is both detached and frustrated.
Depending on where you live, associating Christmas with ghosts can seem unusual. Yet, A Christmas Carol is proof the concept isn’t all that incredible. Charles Dickens’ morality tale remains influential in the western world; not only are there countless adaptations of his work, modern writers continue the tradition of telling Christmas ghost stories in whatever way they see fit. The old English practice failed to cross over to the United States mainly due to the Puritans’ historical fear of the supernatural, but nowadays, there is no shortage of holiday horror stateside.
Wind Chill is a cut above most Christmas horrors. Films belonging to this niche of festive frights often feature Santa-suited killers or other tangible and often outlandish villains. There are the occasional outliers like Ghost Story that deviate from the gory gaiety of Silent Night, Deadly Night or the macabre pleasure that Gremlins arouses. Wind Chill, on the other hand, is a union of traditional and current ideas. The movie fits in with its contemporaries all the while touching upon Dickens’ classic allegory about Christmassy redemption.
The film introduces its theme of yulish absolution early on, starting with the Guy reminding the Girl they were in the same philosophy course. He’s an Eastern Religions major, whereas she’s an engineer who seeks an easy humanities credit. The most important part of this conversation is when they discuss the difference between reincarnation and eternal recurrence. The Girl thinks they’re the same thing, but he states they are indeed not. His explanation that eternal recurrence is living “the same life over and over again” is a hint at the movie’s raison d’être. Tie that into everything that happens on Route 606 — the characters are at the risk of everlasting damnation unless they heed the ghosts of the past — and Wind Chill ends up being more thoughtful than people give it credit for.
As heavy-going as Joe Gangemi and Steven A. Katz‘s script can be, neither they nor Gregory Jacobs forfeit storytelling for intrusive life lessons. But for those who don’t buy into the film’s aim at soul-saving and personal vindication, there are other enjoyable elements. The film stands out in a cinematic cranny of horror movies impelled by inclement weather. Owing to frosty, on-site shoots as well as a lulling color palette, Wind Chill‘s bitter, snowblown setting is exceptional. You practically feel frostbitten in the most dire scenes. What’s more, the encounters with the film’s specters are eerie if not sparse. The phantoms of 606 run the gamut of forlorn and humanlike to spooks who strike fear into mere mortals’ hearts. Although they aren’t the film’s main draw, the movie’s overarching design would be nothing without these wintry wraiths.
Had it not been for the chemistry between the leads, their prickly back-and-forth would have been off-putting. There is undoubtedly shortcutting when it comes to Holmes‘ character’s turnaround, and, in retrospect, his “nice guy” routine reeks of entitlement that is hard to overlook. Come what may, the movie does its best to round out two characters who are, to say the least, socially awkward in very different ways. Their journey isn’t easy to witness, but the outcome is as rewarding as it is melancholic. With his role as the dastardly patrolman, Donovan adds another dubious character to his résumé. His trademark, soft-spoken delivery achieves more menace than shouting ever could.
Wind Chill hasn’t experienced the warmest reception over the years. However, like snow covering the ground, we can look past the surface and see something that is hidden. The movie resists being dogmatic about its core message. Combine that with capable performances from its cast on top of an appreciable sense of icy dread, and here we have a distinct ghost story for the ages. And, with so many of us bundling up and embracing horror movies made with Christmas in mind, now seems as good a time as any to bring Wind Chill in from the cold.
