next day

The kid in the candy shop is Eli Roth with a gore budget and in the “Hostel” director’s latest bloody romp, “Ice Cream Man,” there’s a decidedly childlike giddiness from behind the camera to accompany the sicko suburban carnage depicted onscreen. Where others might view a “Village of the Damned” scenario as dread-inducing, Roth hears the bell for recess.

That doesn’t necessarily translate to a successful film. Little things like style, narrative command and character still matter, and Roth, who wrote “Ice Cream Man” with Noah Belson and even gives himself a role, is decidedly more of a smart-ass vaudevillian than a skilled filmmaker. (“Thanksgiving” was better as an impish sideshow teased as a trailer in “Grindhouse” than as a standalone feature years later.) And while that same belief in the lasting entertainment value of jokey splat-itude gives “Ice Cream Man” its occasional well-churned moments, it eventually undercuts Roth’s own semi-worthy bid to rattle us as the best horror movies can.

With its sunny elevator-music-scored opening of cheery park scenes and leafy residential neighborhoods, “Ice Cream Man” sets itself up, not unappealingly, like a Norman Rockwell painting asking to be vandalized. Next comes the arrival of a tinkling blue ice cream truck manned by an eerily silent, smiling, wraith-like purveyor (Ari Millen) with a John Waters mustache. He hands out his goodies free of charge, and the town’s children converge excitedly, then head home with colorfully smeared faces and a peculiarly quiet demeanor — except for easily bullied Jared (Charlie Zeltzer), who’s lactose intolerant and nobody’s friend anyway, after losing the ballgame for his team.

But when his ice cream-eating schoolmates begin slaughtering their parents overnight, seemingly fueled by the wafting sound of the truck jingle and old-timey black-and-white animations invading their phones, Jared seems like the lucky one. At school the next day, the cold-eyed stares of dairy-slopped grade-schoolers befuddles the teachers (“Is this some sort of zombie pajama day challenge?” is one of the better reaction lines) as well as unsuspecting Jared, along with two other unaltered classmates, Mia (Kiori Waldman) and Tommy (Shiloh O’Reilly). Then the ice cream man returns to refuel his targeted customers, who try to convert our well-cast, engaging trio of young double-scoop holdouts. Things get sticky.

A daytime massacre, built around gleefully homicidal children in full kill mode against adults, contains visuals designed to forever alter how you see tetherball, rope-skipping and cat’s cradle (plus a quasi-amusing shout-out to “The Birds”). It’s clear Roth was aiming for a blood-and-guts tour de force, which this both is and isn’t. Even after Jared and the gang escape the slayground to a church where they get the ice cream man’s backstory from a cowardly priest (Benjamin Byron Davis), genuine scares aren’t really in play here, just taboo snickers.

Then again, the carefully calibrated blend of dark humor, weirdness and sheer terror that made last year’s “Weapons” a rapturous nightmare about creepy children isn’t what Roth is after (or cares to do). He’s got a super-soaker “Goonies”-meets-early-Peter Jackson mindset and a list of clever kills to execute. Time’s a wastin’.

So a pinch of surprising depth proves to be the most unwieldy move when Roth unveils a resonantly nasty surprise for his story’s endgame. The impact is muted because it instantly clarifies how needlessly trivial everything before it was. Maybe someday, Roth will temper his empty-calories instincts and make more of a meal out of his twisted ideas.

A federal judge blasted KTLA-TV Channel 5’s owner, the Texas-based Nexstar Media Group, on Thursday for violating a court order and for failing to disclose key information.

U.S. District Judge Troy L. Nunley found that Nexstar’s actions violated terms of an April preliminary injunction that was designed to prevent the media company from moving forward with its $6.2-billion takeover of rival TV station group Tegna Inc. and meddling with its management.

The judge called Nexstar’s actions “brazen.” He demanded the company begin submitting monthly reports and said a special master would be appointed to help manage the antitrust case and monitor Nexstar for compliance.

And Tegna’s recently constituted board — filled with high-level Nexstar officials — must be dissolved.

A Nexstar spokesman wasn’t immediately available for comment.

Nexstar unveiled its Tegna takeover a year ago. At the time, TV stations were lobbying the Federal Communications Commission to relax station ownership rules, a move that occurred Thursday in a split decision.

Last spring, California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta and seven other state attorneys general challenged Nexstar’s proposed acquisition, alleging the roll-up of more than 250 local TV stations would violate a U.S. antitrust law intended to protect consumers and competitive markets.

Bonta and other plaintiff states argued the consolidation would lead to local newsrooms shuttering, particularly in smaller markets, such as Sacramento and Indianapolis, where Nexstar would own multiple network affiliates.

Despite Bonta’s lawsuit, Nexstar hurried the next day to finalize its purchase of Virginia-based Tegna and swallow the operation. Tegna disbanded, its shareholders were paid and top Tegna executives exited.

Nunley, who is based in Sacramento, is overseeing the case. He initially issued a restraining order, followed by a more lengthy preliminary injunction that ordered Nexstar to halt its integration while the court case was pending.

Tegna should continue to operate as a separate business unit — free from the influence of Nexstar, the judge ruled.

But on the day that Nunley issued the restraining order, Nexstar formed a new Tegna board filled with Nexstar officers, including Chief Executive Perry Sook, Chief Financial Officer Lee Ann Gliha, and later Mike Biard, a former Fox executive who joined Nexstar in 2023 as chief operating officer.

Nexstar countered that while Nunley’s order said Nexstar employees were restricted from serving as “officers,” it didn’t expressly say they couldn’t serve on Tegna‘s board as “directors.”

“Defendants cannot convincingly argue that having Nexstar executives serve on TEGNA’s Board complies with the preliminary injunction,” Nunley wrote in Thursday’s order, adding that Nexstar’s position was “entirely disingenuous.”

Nexstar now must dissolve the board.

“It is shocking that Defendants think installing a Board of Directors comprised primarily of Nexstar executives would not create influence over Tegna management,” Nunley wrote.

He also admonished Nexstar for not providing that information in any of the hearings or in its filings with the court. “Defendants have a duty of candor to the Court under California Rule of Professional Conduct,” Nunley wrote.

His order was designed “to preserve Tegna as a separate and distinct, independently managed business unit from Nexstar,” Nunley wrote. “Nexstar’s control of the Tegna Board will undoubtedly allow it to influence Tegna’s management and obtain access to Tegna’s confidential information.”

Bonta, in a statement, said: “We thank the court for its attention to this matter and look forward to arguing our case and blocking this merger.”