We gave it a B+
In Vladimir Sorokin’s Ice, blue-eyed, blond-haired cult prowls zombielike around greater Moscow for new recruits, whom they slam in the chest with hammers made of extraterrestrial ice. Survivors are endowed with expansive powers of empathy.
George A. Romero meets Nikolai Gogol.
Sorokin’s inventively sliced plot doesn’t make room for a proper climax, but the particulars of his pulp allegory are eerie enough to chill.