Crystalline Cruelty: Lucile Hadžihalilović Unfreezes the Dark Core of Her The Ice Tower Thriller

Master of the enigmatic and the unsettling, Lucile Hadžihalilović has returned with The Ice Tower (La Tour de glace), a film that translates the unsettling beauty of classic body-horror into a chilling, crystalline psychological fable. Fresh off its Silver Bear win for Outstanding Artistic Contribution at the Berlinale 2025, the director—known for her mesmerizing, dreamlike works like Innocence and Evolution—delivers her most emotionally exposed and visually dazzling project yet, one that expertly navigates the murky waters of identity, obsession, and the perils of idol worship.

I. The Snow Queen’s Dark Mirror: Core Themes and Inspiration

Hadžihalilović’s latest cinematic venture is a dark, mesmerizing reinterpretation of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen. However, this is no children’s adaptation. Set in the stylized, retro atmosphere of the 1970s, The Ice Tower eschews traditional narrative for a purely immersive, sensory experience, focusing on the psychological metamorphosis of its young protagonist.

• The Runaway and the Idol: The story centers on Jeanne (Clara Pacini), a 16-year-old orphan who flees her foster home in the snowy mountains and takes refuge in a large, isolated film studio. There, she stumbles upon the set of a lavish film production of The Snow Queen, starring the enigmatic, temperamental movie star Cristina (Oscar-winner Marion Cotillard).
• A Toxic Fascination: A mutual and deeply unsettling fascination grows between the two. Jeanne, isolated and longing for a maternal figure or an ideal of ultimate femininity, projects her dreams and desires onto Cristina’s icy, powerful persona. Cristina, playing the tyrannical Queen, is equally drawn to Jeanne’s innocent adoration, seeing in her a reflection of her younger self—or perhaps a source of youth to consume. This central relationship is the film’s high-tension wire, exploring the semi-erotic and potentially destructive dynamics of a teenager’s coming-of-age journey and her first encounter with adult, wounded complexity.
• Fairy Tale as Psychological Allegory: The director explains that her attraction to Andersen’s original tale stemmed from its unusual proactive female protagonist and the complex archetypal figure of the Queen. In Hadžihalilović’s vision, the Queen is a powerful symbol of the “cold mother,” a figure representing a kind of emotional death or self-destruction that Jeanne must ultimately confront to forge her own identity.

II. The Body-Horror Subtext: Transformation and Disintegration

While The Ice Tower is a fantasy-drama, it maintains the distinct, unnerving atmosphere of psychological body-horror found in the director’s previous films. The horror is not overtly gory but resides in the psychological threat of self-disintegration and the uncomfortable blurring of boundaries.

• Identity Theft and Performance: Jeanne’s flight begins with an act of identity theft, taking on the name “Bianca” after finding a lost purse. Once on the film set, she becomes an extra and then takes on a secondary acting role, with each change of costume and make-up marking a stage in her dangerous metamorphosis. This thematic preoccupation with the transformation of the female body and self—the subtle horror of having one’s identity subsumed or frozen—is a cornerstone of the director’s work.
• The Crystalline Fetish: Key to the film’s haunting imagery is the crystal plucked from Cristina’s dazzling Snow Queen costume. For Jeanne, this crystal becomes a fetishized object, a magical lens through which she views, and thus transfigures, the world. Hadžihalilović notes that this object is a piece of the Devil’s mirror from the original fairy tale, which shows only the worst things, suggesting that the film set, the camera lens, and even the actress herself are all reflections in a cracked mirror, potentially leading to emotional and psychological imprisonment.
• Sensory World-Building: The film’s cinematography, hailed as a masterpiece of craft, uses grainy film stock, soft focus, and dramatic chiaroscuro lighting to make the artificial studio sets and the snowy exteriors feel like a beautiful, ever-shifting dream on the brink of becoming a nightmare. This emphasis on tactile visuals and immersive sound design is how the director creates a tangible sense of a girl losing herself in a world of artifice and dangerous allure.

III. A Warning for the Digital Age: The Cult of Celebrity

The Ice Tower transcends its 1970s setting to offer a timely warning about the modern cult of celebrity and the perilous distance between an idol’s manufactured image and her troubled reality. The story of Jeanne and Cristina serves as a cinematic exploration of the high cost of fame and the destructive nature of unquestioning devotion.

• The Suffering Star: Jeanne is attracted to Cristina not just for her glamour and beauty but because she recognizes a profound suffering in the actress that others—her production team—ignore. This sensitivity allows Jeanne to get closer, but it also exposes her to the toxicity and self-destruction that fuels the diva’s behavior.
• Saying “No” to the Idol: Ultimately, the core drama is Jeanne’s realization that she cannot become this type of woman—this “Death Queen”—and her final, deliberate rejection of Cristina’s desperate plea for her to “disappear” into the wilderness of the artifice. This moment is the catharsis, the rupture of the amniotic sac that had arrested her development, and the true ending to her dark coming-of-age initiation.

As Hadžihalilović continues to define a unique space in international fantasy cinema, The Ice Tower solidifies her reputation as a master of mood, image, and the deeply unsettling psychology of female transition. The film is a luxurious, slow-burn thriller that demands patience but rewards those seeking high-concept cinema with a reflection that lingers long after the credits roll.