Frozen River is the kind of film that features two weathered trailer-trash gals encountering a Pakistani couple and asking the question “What are those?”, which is in turn answered with a charming racial epithet that then begs the additional question “Where is Pakistan?” It centers on a solipsistic world of chain-smoking, minimum-wage earning single mothers who are driven to crime by an unfair society that “just don’t care”. Condescending exposition and grade school symbolism bog down an often desperately contrived narrative that is elevated only by a powerful performance from veteran character-actor, Melissa Leo.

While out searching for her wayward husband, Ray (Melissa Leo) finds his car being driven by a belligerent Mohawk woman named Lila (Misty Upham), who claims to have found it abandoned. After a brief argument, Lila convinces Ray to sell the vehicle to a “friend” who lives on the other side of the frozen St. Lawrence River, in Canada, where—unbeknownst to Ray—a cross-border immigrant smuggling operation is taking place.

Unable to feed her sons Ricky & TJ (James Reilly & Christopher McDermott), Ray becomes wrapped up in these illegalities despite not being particularly fond of the native woman she is partnered with and warnings from a State Trooper named Finnerty (Michael O’Keefe).

While the dialogue is painfully overt, Writer/Director Hunt has managed to create a fairly effective world of endless frustrations, minimal hope and a palpable isolation where the very worst could conceivably happen without a great deal of shock. The character struggles are identifiable and understandable even if they are crafted with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Without so many glib maternal metaphors and unnecessary explanations, Hunt could have created the stark and powerful indie that her passable direction hints at.

Much acclaim for the film will likely stem from Melissa Leo’s raw and unwavering performance as a white trash mama without the education or understanding to escape her minimalist confines. While melodrama bubbles around her, Leo never goes over-the-top, keeping her emotions both guarded and in check even while having an outburst. Misty Upham is fine as the stoic and single-minded Lila, delivering her dialogue with a deliberate flatness but is an obvious second-fiddle to her more experienced counterpart.

Their interaction with each other is one of the few things that isn’t completely spelled out for the audience and as such remains efficacious when their stories are eventually revealed and their pains are mutually respected.

With an overall message that touches on an apathetic, unsentimental society without really diving into the issue, in addition to some surface notions about the power of maternal instinct, Frozen River struggles to communicate any deeper meaning despite a script that points out its purpose at every turn. This is exacerbated greatly by an epilogue that seemingly suggests that money can, in fact, buy happiness.

- Robert Bell