ICE is an innovative independent thriller, shot in New York City, which centers on a revolutionary group plotting to attack a fascistic political regime. Using a fictitious war with Mexico as an allegory for the conflict in Vietnam, Kramer uses a documentary style to dramatize the inner workings, disputes and tensions within the group itself as they plan guerrilla attacks against the American government.

"In his first narrative feature, ICE, Kramer offers a speculative fiction that unfolds in an enhanced, Orwellian version of New York City, circa 1969, where a group of urban revolutionaries go about their daily round of arms-smuggling, alliance-building, political assassinations, lovemaking, honing dogma and eluding the secret police of a fascist state that has clamped down on dissent. Despite its doggedness of tone, especially in the characters' political rhetoric (you can bet that the Red Army Faction, Weather Underground and SLA all bought tickets), ICE remains surprisingly personal and beautifully somber. Its high-contrast, natural-light cinematography is breathtaking, part of the rich, lost tradition of 16 mm black-and-white image-making seen in the work of Frederick Wiseman, Robert Frank and Charles Burnett. Under Kramer's gaze, the familiar, run-down, Lindsay-era New York becomes as alien, melancholy and minatory as the Paris of Godard's Alphaville." —John Patterson, LA WEEKLY, Wednesday, Jun 18, 2008

"The politically radical fiction Ice made [Robert Kramer's] reputation." —CHRIS FUJIWARA, THE BOSTON PHOENIX

"One of American independent Robert Kramer's strongest "underground" features (1969), arguably his best, made in and around New York before he resettled in Paris. This potent and grim SF thriller about urban guerrillas of the radical left, shot in the manner of a rough documentary in black and white, has an epic sweep to it. Now as then, the power of this creepy movie rests largely in its dead-on critique of the paranoia and internecine battles that characterized revolutionary politics during the 60s; the mood is terrorized and often brutal, but the behavioral observations and some of the tenderness periodically call to mind early Cassavetes. A searing, unnerving history lesson, it’s an American counterpart to some of Jacques Rivette's conspiracy pictures, a desperate message found in a bottle." —JONATHAN ROSENBAUM, THE CHICAGO READER