MELBOURNE UNIVERSITY FILM INQUIRER

By Daniel Snowden

In a 1997 television interview, prolific director Ang Lee remarked that his then most recently released film was on the one hand about trying to obey the social code, and on the other hand about trying to free from the restraints; good people who want to be bad, and bad people who want to be good. Twenty-five years later, The Ice Storm remains an underseen – although critically well appraised – masterpiece (not to use the word lightly), and one which is as pertinent as ever.

Based on Rick Moody’s 1994 book of the same name, the film follows the lives of two upper-class American families, the Hoods and the Carvers, chronicling their affairs (both literal and figurative) over the Thanksgiving holiday of 1973. It boasts an all-star, ensemble cast, including Kevin Kline, Joan Allen, Tobey Maguire, Christina Ricci, Elijah Wood, and the eternal Sigourney Weaver, all brilliantly directed by Lee (of eventual Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and Brokeback Mountain fame).

Some films can’t be reincarnated in the qualitative words of an article like this one, so if you can afford the time, The Ice Storm is simply better seen than read (except perhaps when it comes to the original novel). And if you haven’t seen it, beware, there are spoilers ahead.

A tremendously focused film, The Ice Storm simultaneously exposes familial fragility, resilience and reliance – among many other raw feelings and ideas – in a way which makes you feel totally bare. This is the effect from director Ang Lee and screenwriter James Schamus, who carefully craft the upper-class suburban world of Connecticut America as a post-60s era of confusion and authorial misbehaviour. After all, Watergate is unfolding in television sets right as dysfunctional families like the Hoods and the Carvers ‘celebrate’ the traditional harvest holiday.

As the teen Wendy Hood (Ricci) tirades at the dinner meal:

“Dear Lord, thank you for this Thanksgiving holiday. And for all the material possessions we have and enjoy. And for letting us white people kill all the Indians and steal their tribal lands. And stuff ourselves like pigs, even though children in Asia are being napalmed.”

To which her father Ben Hood (Kline) reacts:

“Jesus! Enough, alright? … Paul, roll?”

This time of confusion, misbehaviour and mismanagement is rife throughout the film, from poor communication, stealing, and drug-use, to various elements of sexuality expressed in marital affairs, ‘key’ (swinger) parties and youthful sexual exploration. In one scene in particular Wendy is alone with Mikey (Wood) when she finds a Nixon rubber mask and promptly wears it on her head, before turning to Mikey and asking him to take down his pants so she can ‘touch’ him. The young Wendy and Mikey then lie down and briefly and awkwardly feign intercourse, whilst Wendy wears the Nixon mask. Moments later, Wendy’s dad walks in with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and yells at them as Mikey pretends to tell Wendy that his favourite film is When Worlds Collide.

The irony here exists on multiple levels, from the mask to the movie reference, to the fact that Wendy’s father had just been upstairs having a joyless affair with Mikey’s mother, Janey (Weaver). The inter-generational relationships are expressed on both a personal, sexual, and political level, all of which lend themselves to an examination of the U.S. at this point in time, but also to the nature of the rules and structures of our relationships, and how these can be warped. This is just one evocative example of many in the film which so delicately draw relational lines and barriers between the characters before grounding them all with a shattering finale.

Beginning with a reference to the Fantastic Four comic books (which are, of course, about a superhero family) it is hard to describe the mountain of imagery and ideas that Lee and his collaborators sift throughout and tactfully build upon. It begs further dissection because what they’re conveying is timelessly human. But, at the same time, one would be forgiven for never wanting to watch The Ice Storm again. It is sparingly funny, and ruthlessly heart-wrenching. An exercise in cinematic precision which manages to tie in many distinctly believable characters, but which also makes each of them simply seem like a shade of the others. It feels oddly incestuous, and cold, much like the ice which slowly envelops and slows down the film-world and those within it.

There’s a story which comes from the set which really speaks to Ang Lee’s direction creating this film. In a scene, Janey Carver arrives home to a quiet house as the children are sleeping. She goes to check on them, but then does not and the scene cuts. When making this short, and at first seemingly insignificant, scene, Weaver recalled how she told Lee that she thought her character should look into the children’s room, as she is a mother and that’s what a mother would do. According to the story, Lee responded with something along the lines of: “No, she is too ashamed”. It is the subtle nature of Lee’s directing style which so effectively complements the subtle nature of this text. After all, Lee is not an American, and yet his pathos and consideration is unrivalled and revealing, built universally upon the texts he’s provided with. The Ice Storm’s depiction of family is one that may speak to any dysfunctional relationship in an equally dysfunctional and confused society. Whilst innately concerned with 70s American suburbia, its self-critique and deft depiction transcends beyond time and place despite being so ingrained in a specific time and place. I suppose that is what it means to recognise something as human, and The Ice Storm is an unrelentingly humanistic film.

In spite of less than impressive box-office numbers ($8 million U.S.D.), it has remained a critical darling, and for good reason. I’ve purposefully neglected to delve into the story too much here, as the film is more a collection of elements and themes. And these elements all interact in hidden ways until they are brought together by the climax. It’s why I believe it’s better experienced than summarised, as it’s no easy task to weave this breadth of expression together; and yet, Ang Lee and his collaborators do so seamlessly. What one can do in my position is merely admire from afar, whilst recommending to those yet to discover it. The combination of narrative, style, acting, intertexts and contexts are that of a deep and prevailing work of both cinema and literature. The Ice Storm is a modern classic.

The Ice Storm can currently be watched on Stan in Australia, or rented through a variety of other services.