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Films: Ice Storm proves that decadence can be chilling
By Josh Westlund
It's tempting to see The Ice Storm as a morality play disguised as a
kitschy satire on '70s suburbia, because the rich bastards of New Canaan,
Connecticut, seemingly get what they deserve. They create a world where
infidelity's a silly game, where the fulfillment of desire justifies betrayal;
the plot clambers toward its logical end, a chilling outbreak of chaos. But
The Ice Storm can't be a morality play because it has no standards by
which to judge its characters. Everyone's implicated, but who's to blame? The
only question to ask is how (not if or why or when) things will fall apart.
The Hoods and the Williamses are neighbors--though their ugly, large homes are
separated by vast stretches of forest. Both parents and children are involved
in a strange sexual tangle. The film delights in the complexity of the
situation raging between the two families, focusing equally on adults and
children. While both sets of parents want to teach their children about sex,
they fail because they haven't yet learned the important lesson:
self-control. When Benjamin Hood (Kevin Kline) stumbles through the "birds and
the bees" talk with his son Paul, the only advice he can manage is that Paul
shouldn't masturbate in the shower because it's a waste of water, and the
location's too obvious. After Janey Williams (Sigourney Weaver) catches her
youngest son playing "you show me yours, I'll show you mine," with Wendy Hood
(Christina Ricci), she tries to give Wendy some advice. "Our bodies betray us,"
she stutters. "In Samoa and other developing countries, adolescents are sent
out into the woods and they don't come back until they've learned a thing or
two."
The film's youngest characters seem to know more than the adults, they also
give the best performances. Christina Ricci is downright spooky and
charmingly innocent as Wendy Hood. Like Kids; The Ice Storm isn't
afraid to confront adolescent, or even prepubescent sex. But while
Kids'' point of view was limited by the IQ of its protagonist, The
Ice Storm is focuses on the comic side of adolescent sexual experiments
while insisting that, even for kids, sex is primarily about manipulation and
power. There's not much difference between Janey Williams (who ditches Ben Hood
while he's still in his boxers, sure to be found by her husband, while she runs
off to do errands) and Wendy Hood (who seduces Mikey Williams while wearing a
Richard Nixon mask). For the Hoods and Williamses, love is both a joke and a
fiction.
As the kids try to learn what sex is all about, their parents continue to
willingly embarrass themselves. Ben Hood, so eager to bust his daughter for
fooling around with the son of the woman with whom he's having an affair,
indirectly admits to his affair. Hood isn't stupid; he just doesn't realize
that infid-elity is a ma-jor problem. "What else could I be besides
unfaithful?" is his defense. And the sexual mess just continues to grow.
The mess reaches its chaotic peak at the "key party." Couples drop their car
keys into a bowl when they arrive. Later, the wives take out a set of keys and
spend the night with the owner. The couples approach the game with the fervor
of fifth graders playing spin the bottle, while struggling to deny the massive
undercurrents of jealousy which paralyze them.
Paul Hood, a comic book fanatic who's been sent off to boarding school, is the
film's most puzzling character. In the novel, he's a mischievous narrator whose
gossipy tone often softens the unbelievability of the melodramatic narrative.
It's clear that he's stretching the story to make it better, which adds an
element of whimsy to the bleakness. But in the film, Paul's a peripheral
figure. He's off at prep school, taking bong hits and trying to score with a
shallow Manhattan rich girl, and eventually gets stuck on an iced-over Metro
North train. Still, his voice-overs, which muse on the Fantastic Four's
similarities to the family, poignantly reflects the madness of the story.
The Ice Storm refuses to resolve its characters' fates. Has anyone
learned anything? It's more likely, I think, that New Canaan won't change. As
the thick coat of ice slowly melts, the characters and the audience have to
ask: when people work so hard together to corrupt the one structure--the
family--that offers a way to cope with tragedy, is it any wonder that they
can't figure out a reasonable way to be moral?
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