An alien invasion, a paternity test, and a soundtrack stuffed with the best alternative rock hits of the early 2000s. These are the main ingredients in visionary Joseph Kahn’s latest feature, Ick. While the title suggests it’s something to be grossed out by, it’s actually a pleasantly surprising and savory satire.

 

Written and directed by Kahn, the film follows Hank, a high school science teacher who suspects one of his students might be his daughter. Amid an investigation into his potential paternity, a weird sentient substance known as the “ick” begins to rapidly spread around the town. As it starts to become more aggressive, infecting residents, he finds himself tasked with destroying it. 

 

Admittedly, there is a lot going on here. But it’s all presented in a manner that respects the audience’s intelligence as opposed to overwhelming its senses. That’s a skill Kahn has proudly perfected as the director of dozens of music videos. In the film’s prologue, for example, we see Hank’s origin story told at break-neck speed. In those 5 minutes, not a shot or line is wasted. Before the story is fully set in motion, we have all the info we need to understand who Hank was (the big man on campus), who he could’ve been (the next Tom Brady) and who he has become (a science teacher with no one and nothing to live for). 

 

Hank is played by Brandon Routh. Although he’s starred as a multitude of superheroes - and even a superpowered vegan - over the course of his career, he plays someone who is at a total disadvantage to power here. After literally breaking his leg during a football game, he becomes disabled and resigned to a leg brace. The irony is that this could very well be one of his best performances. As uncomfortable as it looks to watch him physically drag his leg around, it’s his burdensome depression, regret and pity that you empathize with more because of how emotionally committed Routh is to the role. The way he slowly sheds all that pain to become a hero to the town and his potential daughter is where he especially shines.

 

Malina Weissman plays said potential daughter, Grace. Similar to the high school version of Hank, she knows what she wants to do with her life. As carefree as she may appear, she’s much more conscious of her decisions because she refuses to be stuck in their hometown like everyone else. As crucial as the mystery surrounding her true father is, the way her character illuminates the film’s exploration of how different generations respond to trauma and drama is far more compelling.

 

The title alone is another reference to how different generations interpret things. Twenty years ago, if someone described something as “ick” it meant it was disgusting. For Generation Alpha, however, its definition has evolved to mean something slightly different: a pet peeve you have about your significant other. Rather than reclaiming its original meaning or leaning into its modern use, Kahn finds a happy middle ground by channeling both definitions into a metaphor about society’s obvious demise.

 

Now, subtlety is not lost on Kahn. His casting of 90s and early aughts “it girl” Mena Suvari as Hank’s ex-high school sweetheart/Grace’s mom, Staci, is a perfect example of how intentional he is as a filmmaker. As is the use of The All-American Rejects’ “Swing, Swing” at the start of the opening montage, which foreshadows Hank’s years swinging by after he loses his shot at becoming an All-American football star. But the film’s most enjoyable aspect is the sharp commentary bursting from beneath the surface that, unlike the “ick”, is fun to catch. 

 

It’s never explained where the “ick” comes from. But from the film’s opening, we can tell it predates Hank’s high school years. Just because it’s starting to grow in the present doesn’t mean it’s never manifested itself before - or caused harm. The “ick” is the reason Hank breaks his leg, and the reason he never leaves his town. It also only seems to worsen the more intent Hank becomes on finding out if Grace is his daughter. Although everyone else in town can see it, and is inconvenienced by it, no one wants to do anything to address it either.

 

Early on in the film, Hank tells Staci, “America needs its traditions.” Later on, Grace’s boyfriend tells her the same thing. Both times it’s delivered as a throwaway line, but it may certainly be the whole point of the story. The “ick” is America’s oldest tradition. It’s the mistakes the country refuses to acknowledge and are doomed to repeat. It’s the worry that anything new will destroy what’s already been established, regardless of how ruined current institutions already are. It’s the rules and laws put into place to oppress us and the illusion we’ve been presented that nothing will ever change. It’s grown so large and out-of-control that it appears unbeatable. All it takes is someone with nothing else to lose to break that tradition. If you haven’t been paying attention, that someone could be you.

Just like America, Ick isn’t perfect. Even with its irresistible soundtrack, there are a few needle drops that do not work. The film’s ending is also too abrupt, despite an optimistic outlook. Still, it deserves to be in the Pantheon of great modern monster movies. If not for its attempt to revive the genre at a time where most other creature features are more concerned with franchising than storytelling, then for its attempt at holding a mirror up to us so we can see how truly disgusting we’ve become.