Jeff Goldblum's eccentric personality, endless curiosity, and wildly free spirit give him one of the most welcoming personas in Hollywood. But, like any strong actor, the Jurassic Park star is able to disappear into roles that are nothing like who they actually are. In the largely forgotten 1990 horror gem Mister Frost, Goldblum plays a chilling personification of evil itself. As the titular character, he's a calculating menace rarely seen in the actor beyond Deep Cover’s sleazy attorney David Jason or Captain Planet’s Verminous Skumm. A serial killer with dozens of bodies buried in his backyard, Mister Frost is a man with no identity. He lives in a spacious English estate as a mysterious recluse, peering from second floor windows like an omnipresent ghost. Once Inspector Detweiler (Alan Bates) investigates a report of a dead body on Frost’s property, it quickly becomes clear that Frost is much more than a creepy loner living in solitude in a charming English home. He very well might just be the devil himself.
‘Mister Frost’ Features Jeff Goldblum at the Top of His Game
A movie like Mister Frost depends heavily on the way its lead actor plays the villain, and Goldblum surely doesn’t disappoint. He shows up in the role with his trademark quirks and mannerisms, only instead of showcasing the charming suaveness of Dr. Ian Malcolm, Goldblum turns on the chill factor. He stares on with wide, unblinking eyes, probing the psychologists and investigators with those penetrating peepers. He talks with a slow, articulate tone as if each word is plucked from the air with the utmost thought.
There’s a cockiness to Mister Frost that comes off as entirely intimidating. He takes firm command of the conversation, and when others speak it feels as though it’s only through his generosity that they’re allowed to. When Frost tells Detweiler that he was busy burying a body right before the detective showed up, he says it with the same kind of nonchalance that one would talk about putting water in the kettle. He speaks with an emotionally disconnected coldness that at first seems like it could just as plausibly be the product of a morose sense of humor. When Detweiler tries to probe Frost in order to grasp how serious—and dangerous—this man is, Frost just smiles coldly and answers the question bluntly.
Early on in the film, Frost claims to be the devil. Is he? Or is he merely a human being, a psychopathic sadist? Without spoiling the ending, it can be said that the movie remains largely ambiguous until leaning firmly in one direction. For much of the film, Goldblum plays it teetering between the two possibilities, reining in any excess in order to keep the character cryptic. Regardless of the outcome, Frost is the very personification of evil itself, a serial killer with a staggering body count that a news reporter likens to Ed Gein.
It’s when Dr. Day (Kathy Baker), a psychologist selected to diagnose Frost’s mental state, is brought in that Frost gets the most of his screen time. The two partake in conversations pondering the ancient nature of evil and its presence in a modern scientific world. Frost is unnaturally familiar with her. He calls her by her first name, Sarah, and would be charming if it didn’t feel so invasive. He says it in a way that suggests he knows it makes her uncomfortable, and he gets pleasure in that.
The character of Mister Frost also benefits from Goldblum’s physique. The actor lends his imposing 6’4” stature to the role, giving him the ability to look down almost constantly on all those he’s talking to. He’s tall, wiry, and he keeps his hair pulled back tightly in a ponytail. He walks about with a stylish bravado (it is still Jeff Goldblum, after all) and impenetrable confidence.
Frost is a bit odd, as Goldblum characters tend to be, and this benefits the film greatly. With Mister Frost, Goldblum joins a league of actors playing the devil and devil-adjacent characters. In comparison to the grotesque animalism of Peter Stormare in Constantine, the discomforting quasi-innocence of the little girl (Juliette Caton) in Last Temptation of Christ, or Tim Curry’s unrecognizable transformation in Legend, Goldblum’s maybe-Satan is unnaturally calm. He’s terrifying because he’s so goddamn human, albeit a psychotic and truly twisted one.
What does he want out of all of this? Apart from the men, women, and children he has buried underneath his well-kept lawn (Frost calls them “trophies”), what is it that he’s trying to get here? Well, it’s actually pretty simple. “I must reveal to the world your impotence in the presence of the age-old power of...the wild side,” Frost says to Dr. Day during one of their sessions. He wants to reintroduce the lasting power of evil into the world, and he wants to prove that science is a useless defense against it. Fortunately for Mister Frost, Goldblum completely sells it.
‘Mister Frost’ Is a Slow-Burning Horror With Weighty Themes
Mister Frost is a difficult film to categorize. It mostly belongs in the horror genre, but it also feels like a defiant outlier of what the genre usually consists of. The picture has its moments of fright, and it has its unforgettable central villain at its core, but it spends most of its time finding the horror in its implications. It’s a movie that focuses on some wordy, cerebral analyses of the overlap between science and religion, evil and psychology.
Frost sees psychology as an elixir against evil’s doing. It explains evil deeds in a rational, scientific way, and it attempts to formulate a cure for it through understanding its origin. If evil acts can be explained on a psychological level, it becomes more of a byproduct of unfavorable neurology than an untouchable boogeyman. Frost explains it clearly to Day: “you took a few years and undid centuries of effort...there’s no passion. There’s no life.”
With psychologists like Dr. Day aiming to restore humanity to a healthy state of being, unfathomable acts of cruelty like those carried out by Mr. Frost are in danger of becoming obsolete. As a film, Mister Frost takes this battle seriously. Goldblum, always a fantastically physical actor, plays the role straight. There’s no silliness and absurdity here. Frost—be he the devil or merely a truly wicked man—is meant not to be an exuberant caricature of the biblical manifestation of evil. He’s meant to be much more grounded in reality, and therefore much more believable.
This 1990 Horror Film Makes You Think
Mister Frost runs just short of two hours, and it spends the majority of its time building towards something greater. It’s about the details and the implications they pose. What does evil mean? Does it even exist? Can all acts of cruelty be explained psychologically? When a patient at the mental hospital named Christopher (François Négret) escapes and begins a gruesome killing spree, Frost takes pleasure in the knowledge of the carnage. Here are acts of violence carried out by a mentally unwell hand. The question is arisen as to where the origin of this cruelty lies.
Chunks of the film are lit in heavy contrast, with the actors’ faces showing up sharply against dark backdrops. Much is washed in a pallet of ghostly blues, and it makes the conversations between Frost and the others feel as though they exist on a separate plane of existence. It feels purgatorial. Phillipe Setbon, the film’s director, plays with suspending the film between reality and surreality. It’s important that Hell, (should it exist) is shown to be earthly.
Mister Frost is an under-appreciated gem bolstered by an excellent Jeff Goldblum performance, competent technical filmmaking, and philosophical themes meditating on timeless questions. Since its 1990 release, the film has rarely seen the light of day. Copies of an out-of-print DVD from the Netherlands can be found at exorbitant prices online, as can copies of what are presumably bootlegged prints, but no other releases have been made available since, neither on streaming nor physical media. It can be found for free on YouTube, albeit as a low-quality transfer that maxes out at a scuzzy 480p. In the age of B-movie 4K restorations and expansive home video box sets of underground franchises, it’s a shame that Mister Frost hasn’t seen a renaissance. It deserves one. It’s overdue for reevaluation, and it deserves a spot on any horror fan’s cult rotation.
A few years ago, I celebrated Jeff Goldblum's birthday by watching Mister Frost (he's an October baby, and that year I'd made a strict "no non-horror movies all October" rule). I was legitimately shocked that I hadn't heard of it before, simply finding it after typing "Jeff Goldblum Horror Movies" into Google. It's a movie that's wormed its way into my mind and shown up unexpectedly on several occasions, leaving a permanent imprint.
Mr. Frost is one of those movies whose poor reputation is owed to the fact that far too few people have ever seen it, one whose transformation into cult status is merely waiting for a wider audience. There's a devoted fanbase out there, and they're due to be initiated into the cult of Mister Frost. Whoever’s listening (or reading): please, please, give this film its rightful restoration and let it out into the world. It’s a film worthy of respect and admiration, and Goldblum fans everywhere deserve to see their favorite funky uncle playing the manifestation of evil and having a great time doing it.