I am often scrolling through trailers to get excited about which cinematic adventures I’ll be going on in the future. So when I saw the title Deep Powder in Grantland’s weekly movie trailer post, I was intrigued.
From what I can gather, this is the story of a boy named Danny that got caught up with the wrong girl in a ski town. You need only read the Jaded Local column to know that’s a narrative told over and over (and over) again. Said girl loses her wallet on the chair, and delivers the breezy line, “find me when the snow melts.” This is The Notebook for skiers. At this point in the trailer, I’m thinking this is a romantic, chick flick set in a small ski town, which isn’t a bad thing. It might inspire more women to move to the mountains. Good job, Hollywood.
In the next scene, young Danny, being the responsible liftie he is, returns the wallet which sets off a series of clips. The lovebirds are flirting in the lift shack (she has no ski clothes on and he’s the liftie. How the hell did she get up there to surprise him? I don’t think she skinned) and the relationship seems to being going well. And then this:
“For Christmas we go down to South America and we score some high-quality cocaine.”
Um. Ok, Deep Powder. I get it. Nice double entendre. I can see the pitch now:
“It’s a film set in a ski town AND the hot ski chick turns out to be a coke dealer that gets the local liftie into some heat with the feds. Get it? Deep Powder?”
Granted, ski towns do their fair share of partying, but this is ludicrous. The next shots are of Danny and his buddy discussing the trip over a tune job, followed by crazy girl arguing the purity of cocaine with Colombians, and the two of them smuggling said cocaine back in their ski bags.
Damnit, Hollywood. Just by insinuating that the skiers that fly to South America for the summer bring back cocaine in their bags, you’ve made going through customs and dealing with the T.S.A. that much harder. I mean, do you know how difficult it is to bring a freakin’ airbag on a plane?
Not to mention, this film is not what we wanted. This is what we wanted. If the liftie, Danny, in this film turns out to be Dexter Rutecki’s kid and he’s following in his dad’s missteps with narcotics only to be rescued after his godfather, T.J. Burke, bails him out of a Miami jail then brings Danny to Alaska to help start a heli ski op with former Powder 8 Champion Todd Pounds, I take back anything bad I wrote in the previous graphs. My fingers are crossed.
Deep Powder will be premiering at the Tribeca Film Festival later this month. But if you’re in New York for Tribeca and you’re a skier, go see McConkey instead. It’s not inspired by a true story. It is one.