Directed by: Dominic Sena
Written By: Jon Hoeber, Erich Hoeber, Chad Hayes, & Carey Hayes
Cast: Kate Beckinsale, Gabriel Macht, & Tom Skerritt
Runtime: 96 min
Rating: R
Trailer

I hate the cold. Not just because I hate wearing layers of clothing or fixing a lot of tea. No, I hate being cold primarily for one reason: you can’t escape it. On a particularly cold night, some part of your body—your nose, your ears, your fingers—will always feel that chill, no matter what you do. Sure, you can crank up the heat, but you know what waits outside. It’s quite claustrophobic, the sense that nature is assaulting you with every chance it gets. I suppose U.S. Marshal Carrie Stetko (Kate Beckinsale) feels the same, many months into her post at a research base in Antarctica, though a series of flashbacks to her time in Miami tells us a perpetual winter may be just what Carrie needs.

The last thing she needs? A murder—the first in Antarctica—just days before she’s scheduled to head to warmer climates. The ominously-named Dr. John Fury (Tom Skerritt) accompanies her to inspect the body – a tangled mess of ice and gore, and the beginning of a story that’s a little less tangled, and a lot more fun to look at. From the moment we’re treated, albeit unnecessarily, to a lingering shot of Carrie’s backside before she steps in the shower, it’s clear what Director Dominic Sena (Swordfish) wants: a movie that looks good, story be damned. So we’re given lots of blinding snowstorms, vast ice fields, villains dressed in head-to-toe black, and as many shots as possible of Carrie, in all her frostbitten, flush-cheeked beauty. Not that I’m complaining.

Carrie, with the help of wisecracking pilot Delfy (Columbus Short) and UN Special Investigator Robert Pryce (Gabriel Macht), uncovers a mystery you can find in any climate, and in any movie: shady Russian dealings, double- and triple-crosses, and lots of one-liners. Sena deserves some credit for staging thrilling action set pieces around the rope system that keeps people from blowing away in the Arctic wind. I’ve never cared as much about carabiners (those metal loops people like to use as key chains) as I did while watching this film. And give Beckinsale her due for elevating Carrie above the typical Cop Who Wants To Quit. Without her acting talents, best displayed in Rod Lurie’s phenomenal Nothing But The Truth, Whiteout would be frozen in the depths of direct-to-DVD tundra.

There isn’t much to say about this film, because there just isn’t much there. Will you stay awake for the duration? Definitely. Will you care about what happens to Carrie? Thanks to Beckinsale, yes. Will you feel compelled to check out the graphic novel on which the film is based? Sure, if only to discover the better story that multiple rewrites likely filtered down into the sparse narrative in theaters this weekend. Whiteout, like Sena’s Swordfish and Gone In 60 Seconds, is a completely serviceable thriller worth watching more for its pretty faces and cool visuals than its story. On my scale of stuck-in-the-cold thrillers, with Carpenter’s The Thing at the top and Larry Fessenden’s abysmal The Last Winter at the very, very bottom, Whiteout comfortably falls somewhere in the middle. If anything, this film is a great excuse to slip out of the heat and into some A/C, and spend some time with Kate Beckinsale and her gratuitous almost-nudity (again, not complaining). But steamy shower interludes and bra-and-panties shots aren’t enough to make me enjoy 90 minutes of chilly storytelling. You know how I feel about the cold.

Clarence Hammond
© Cinephile Magazine, 2009