A surprisingly perfect role for two-time Academy Award winner Emma Thompson (Sense & Sensibility, Howards End), the Brian Kirk-directed Dead of Winter centers on Thompson’s grounded, realistic portrayal of a working class, Minnesota woman, Barb (accent and all), understandably mourning the recent loss of her longtime husband, Karl (Paul Hamilton), in the middle of an ice-cold, snow-covered midwestern winter (hence the title).
Extraordinary in her obvious ordinariness, Barb has spent all — or most of — her adult life surviving Minnesota’s harsh, unforgiving winters, making her unexpectedly prepared for an inadvertent run-in with an unnamed, middled-aged couple identified in the credits only as Purple Lady (Judy Greer, impressively persuasive as Barb's eventual antagonist) and Camo Jacket (Marc Menchaca), when she ventures far into the frozen wilderness to complete one of her late husband’s wishes, a return of sorts to the ice-covered lake where their younger selves (Gaia Wise and Cúán Hosty-Blaney) enjoyed their first date together.
But where there’s isolation and desolation, there’s also the opportunity for Kirk (The Day of the Jackal, 21 Bridges) and his screenwriting team, Nicholas Jacobson-Larson and Dalton Leeb, to place the unfortunate Barb in a singularly dangerous predicament, alone with limited resources (an old pick-up truck, predictably dodgy cell service, and ice-fishing equipment), without ready contact with the outside world, falling temperatures, and a young woman, Leah (Laurel Marsden), bound-and-gagged and kidnapped by the unnamed couple for reason or reasons unknown, desperately in need of Barb’s assistance.
Barb’s survivalist-style experiences, sharply honed instincts, and natural ingenuity make her a formidably opponent to the unnamed couple and their plans for the kidnapped Leah, but the unnamed couple, especially Greer’s obsessive, desperate character, mirror Barb practically beat-for-beat. That believable mirroring makes the inevitable shifting cat-and-mouse game between Barb and the couple all the more compelling and the eventual outcome all the more unpredictable.
An otherwise stripped-down, lean screenplay mixes Barb’s present-day fight to rescue Leah with expository flashbacks delineating Barb’s relationship with her late husband. A first date turns into a long, loving marriage managing an out-of-the-way bait-and-tackle store. Collectively, the flashbacks offer an Up-inspired story, albeit one marred, but not defined, by tragedy, trauma, and the necessarily incomplete recovery that inevitably follows.
While Kirk handles the numerous flashbacks with unsentimental restraint, they add less than they subtract, functioning less as an integral commentary on or providing essential insight into the present-day action than marginal or tangential asides. Still, they offer Thompson’s daughter, Gaia Wise, the chance to share a film, if not actual screen time, with her more famous award-winning mother. As the younger Barb, Wise makes for a credible analog to Thompson’s older iteration, sharing not just a physical resemblance to her mother, but continuity performance-wise as well.
Jacobson-Larson and Leeb keep background details to a minimum, withholding key information (e.g., the “why” behind the kidnapping) until absolutely, positively necessary to move the plot forward, a decision that adds a layer of tension and suspense to the film as it otherwise barrels toward a face-off between Barb and Greer’s unnamed woman, the latter understandably driven by an overwhelming desire to reject her fate and survive at any cost, up to and including anyone unlucky enough to stumble into her path.
Kirk’s taut, unobtrusive direction leans heavily on cinematographer Christopher Ross’s talents and a snow-covered landscape (Finland subbing in convincingly for Minnesota) to visually convey Barb’s separation from the wider, outside world, her need to rely solely — or mostly — on herself and her improvisational skills, and the ever-present danger the subzero cold and wintry weather present.
Ultimately, Dead of Winter isn’t likely to appear in a retrospective of Thompson’s career (except, perhaps, as an afterthought or a footnote), but judged by its own modest standards, Dead of Winter stands out as an emotionally and dramatically satisfying survival thriller.
Dead of Winter opens Friday, September 26, only in movie theaters, via Vertical.