Ang Lee is most certainly one of the more talented directors working today, but not all of his films really work. Indeed, when you come right down to it, his cinematic oeuvre is so uneven, that he only can be considered truly masterful when you look at his body of films as a whole. The Taiwanese filmmaker has done several films about sex and relationships (Brokeback Mountain, Lust, Caution) a few Academy-baiting period pieces (Sense & Sensibility, Ride with the Devil, Life of Pi) and a few completely out-there mainstream action pictures (I think Hulk and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon both fit that description). And while the merits (and demerits) of each of these films can be extensively debated, it cannot be denied that Lee is a full-steam-ahead sort of creative soul who will tackle any and all material, giving it his own spin, and making it at the very least interesting.
In 1997, Lee directed one of the more celebrated indie dramas of that year with The Ice Storm, a mannered period piece about isolation and swinging sexuality in suburban Connecticut. The Ice Storm was recently re-issued by The Criterion Collection on Blu-ray, and, I am sad to say, it does not age well.
It is 1973, and the world is draped artfully in every single stylized 1970s fashion trope you can think of. Crocheted tops, big beads, heavy brown sweaters, pea-green kitchenettes, reel-to-reel tape machines, Nixon masks, ponchos, key parties. It’s a wonder no one in this film wears a macrame owl across their chests for good measure. The Ice Storm is dripping in a fetishized version of the 1970s that feels less like the period its depicting, and more like a 1990s indie film stylistic flourish. Living in the artfully rendered minimalist houses are a pair of unhappily married couples. Kevin Kline and Joan Allen play the Hoods, a couple who is constantly on the brink of admitting their angst. They are raising a pop-culture savvy boarding-school-bound 16-year-old (Tobey Maguire) who provides an analogue to life out of a “Fantastic Four” comic, as well as a 14-year-old sexpot-to-be (Christina Ricci) who plays I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours with her boyfriend’s little brother. Sigourney Weaver and Jamey Sheridan play the Carvers, a couple repeatedly separated by his physical and emotional distance (sample dialogue: “I’m back!” “You were gone?”), forcing her to have multiple pneumatic affairs with all the husbands in town, including Kevin Kline’s character. The Carvers are raising a pair of spacey sons (Elijah Wood and Adam Hann-Boyd) who both seem to be in their own little worlds, even when Ricci is goading them individually into sexual experimentation.
The climax of the drama take place at an honest-to-goodness key party, where arguments are had, tempers finally break, truths come to light, and all the simmering resentment is finally voiced. Also, according to ’90s indie film traditions, you can’t have a film about simmering suburban angst without a blood sacrifice, and one of the main characters will have to die as a sort of karmic victim of the world’s unspoken darkness. However profound a notion this is, it’s kind of common in the ’90s suburban angst drama (think of American Beauty or the works of Todd Solondz). Key parties, by the way, were a real thing, and were supposedly rather common at the time. A key party, for the uninitiated, is a suburban swingers’ game wherein men drop their car keys into a bowl at the start of the party, to be plucked out by the ladies at the end. The randomly paired couples then have sex.
The film’s messages about isolation within a family unit still play well in 2013, I suppose, although the overall execution of The Ice Storm feels a bit too mannered for its own good. The design is so impeccable, and the characters so perfectly realized as avatars for the modern world, that The Ice Storm ultimately comes across as more artificial and cinematic than actually dramatic. There is, of course, an integrity to this aloof approach, but there is a way to stress suburban isolationism without having to resort to placing characters in artfully large, bare rooms. The film, then, ultimately comes across more as an example of 1990s film trends, and less as an example of the actual 1970s.
The Blu-ray is yet another upgrade from the Criterion DVD (previously released in 2007), so all the features are the same. There is a fascinating series of interviews with with the all-star cast (Tobey Maguire, Wood, and Ricci were still up-and-comers in 1997, and the adults were all classically-trained theater actors) who talk about the experiences of working with Lee. There are the requisite commentary tracks as well, and a printed essay by Bill Krohn. If you already have the DVD of a Criterion release, and the Blu-ray features all the same features – and even the same packaging – then you may want to stay with the DVD. That is unless you’re a stickler for a perfect image on your flat-screen TV. Which I know some of you are.
The Ice Storm is a well-acted and perfectly-realized suburban angst drama, full of small interesting details, complex characters, and gorgeous production design. But it does, at the end of the day, feel much like a dated product of its time.
Witney Seibold is a featured contributor on the CraveOnline Film Channel, co-host of The B-Movies Podcast and co-star of The Trailer Hitch. You can read his weekly articles B-Movies Extended, Free Film School and The Series Project, and follow him on “Twitter” at @WitneySeibold, where he is slowly losing his mind. If you want to buy him a gift (and I know you do), you can visit his Amazon Wish List.
