By Brian Hu
In one of the special features on the Criterion Collection's DVD for The Ice Storm, production designer Mark Friedberg recalls having to explain the principles of cubism to director Ang Lee. On the commentary track for the film, Lee and producer/screenwriter James Schamus forget that bit of trivia, talking confidently about the use of cubism as both a visual motif and as an inspiration for the film's fragmented narrative. I don't mean to imply that Lee and Schamus are taking credit away from Friedberg, but rather, I want to suggest that this graciously stacked DVD package by Criterion is itself like a work of cubism, showing us several sides of a story or picture at the same time.
We often forget that it was cubism which was influenced by cinema and not vice versa. Film's ability to cross-cut across spaces and times, or its ability to superimpose images through optical effects, was one of the many inspirations for Picasso's early experimentations with physical space. DVD technology seems to have transformed the cubist legacy one step further. Now, users can change angles, jump scenes, and shift perspectives with a remote control. If the DVD comes with well-stocked and interesting special features, the user can literally see and hear the same story from multiple sides. Not surprisingly, Criterion's latest package provides us with that possibility.
As I waded through the bonus materials -- a commentary accompanying the crisp new transfer on the first disc, and a wealth of short featurettes and deleted scenes on the second -- two recurring themes stood out and it was fascinating to see how each interviewee or commentator dealt with both.
1. The return of The Ice Storm
"Ang, you ready to see the lowest-rated market-researched movie you ever made -- the biggest disaster in research testing numbers ever? Here it comes."
So says James Schamus toward the beginning of his highly enjoyable and illuminating audio commentary with Ang Lee. Their frankness about the film's box office washout in 1997 is echoed throughout the special features by nearly everyone. Joan Allen talks about her disappointment that one of her most "perfect" films received so little attention. Kevin Kline recalls a Fox exec apologizing to him at the Golden Globe Awards for having mishandled the release of The Ice Storm.
Their thoughts reminded me of when I first heard about The Ice Storm while watching the review on Siskel & Ebert in 1997. I remember distinctly that the two critics were in unison with praise. But beyond their thumb-ups, they pleaded that audiences, critics, and Academy voters give the film a chance since it was very much the kind of film that's hard to sell. Indeed it was. The Ice Storm covers territory common in American literature but less so in American film: the fusion of cataclysmic natural forces, the deepest unearthed fissures within suburban life, and the ethos of the political and cultural nadir that was 1973 America. But it does so with an elegance and sympathy that enraptures us, despite the comical satirical edge and awkward sexuality. And that's uncommon in any medium.
The years have treated The Ice Storm well, in part because they have treated director Ang Lee well. Though his follow-up Ride with the Devil was also ignored by audiences (and even critics), Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon in 2000 and Brokeback Mountain in 2005 catapulted Lee to national and international stardom. The young stars have aged nicly as well. The film was Katie Holmes' screen debut, and it one of the first to showcase the talents of Tobey Maguire and David Krumhotlz. The film also featured Christina Ricci and Elijah Wood, who at the time were already experienced child-stars.
But as many voices in the DVD special features remind us, the film's re-emergence has much more to do with its status as a cult item. Ang Lee mentions that the classmates in his kid's high school consider watching the film the penultimate in cinephilic "cool." Actors Sigourney Weaver and Toby Maguire talk about how the film has become a touchstone in any discussion of their work. More interestingly, costume designer Carol Oditz mentions that the film helped incite a 1970s revival in the fashion world.
The most perfect testament to the film's growing stature comes from James Schamus. In the audio commentary, he half-jokingly says that with the film's continued interest among young film-lovers and academics, the film today is able to win "the big prize: the Criterion DVD." The selection by Criterion (or the AFI, or the Library of Congress) is by no means a definitive validation of greatness, but it does signify an entry into a specific kind of film canon. To put it cynically, the testimonies in the special features serve to validate the film's selection for canonization. But I'd prefer a more optimistic outlook: the testimonies narrate the unforeseen success story of an ignored film which, by virtue of its artistry and cultural resonance, manages to cultivate the respect it's always deserved.
2. The persistence of ethnicity
James Schamus: By the way Ang, let me just ask you a question that's on the minds of many critics. You're Chinese. How can you make a movie about Americans?
Ang Lee: Oh fuck you. [laughs]
That exchange in the audio commentary is perhaps the funniest moment of The Ice Storm DVD outside of the feature film itself, which features brilliant moments of humor delivered by actors like Kevin Kline. Schamus' sarcastic question and Lee's priceless retort reveal how self-conscious they are about the role of Lee's ethnicity in Hollywood. And that self-consciousness reoccurs throughout the special features, comically providing some of the most illuminating thoughts on this DVD.
In a recorded on-stage interview with Lee and Schamus at New York's Museum of the Modern Image, Lee talks about how his status as a "foreigner" allowed him to get away with some of his most blunt directions to actors. On Sense and Sensibility, for instance, he could tell Emma Thompson to stop playing her character so "old," and not expect to get slapped because, as everyone knows, his English isn't too good. In an interview, Kevin Kline recalls being castigated by Lee for acting "too Victor/Victoria." Christina Ricci remembers being totally traumatized when Lee told her not to kiss Elijah Wood with so much "biting action."
But of course, Lee was totally aware of what he was doing. He played the "perpetual foreigner" stereotype to pierce straight into the actors' bad habits when he deemed it useful for their performances. (By 1996, when the film was shot, Lee had already lived in the U.S. for 18 years.) Lee's inclusion of a "good luck ceremony" -- a staple ritual of Chinese filmmaking in Asia -- perhaps added to his mystique. In interviews, Joan Allen and others appear completely fascinated by the unusual ritual. And it's clear that Lee's "Chinese" aura surrounded him throughout the shoot. Elijah Wood recalls being awe-struck by Lee's "mysterious" silence. Kevin Kline remembers how focused Lee looked on the set, always sitting quietly, listening to headphones. The punchline of it all is that, in the Museum of the Modern Image interview, Lee admits to faking it. When he was a production assistant, he was taught to always look busy on the set. (For a hilarious juxtaposition of these Kline and Lee's comments, see the second flash video on the "Ice Aged" entry of the Criterion blog.)
Perhaps more significant than his on-set demeanor are the consequences of having Lee, who lived in Taiwan during 1973, make a film that's "quintessentially American," as several interviewees on the DVD state. Lee himself did a hefty amount of historical research for the film, and combined his findings in a thick binder of advertisements, articles, and photographs from the era, which he distributed to each cast member. The binder then provided a mass of historical trends from which the actors could then incorporate or even rebel against. Sigourney Weaver, for instance, talks of doing the opposite of the norm, which she felt was most appropriate for her character. Thus Lee's outsider status, coupled with his curiosity about historical detail, provided opportunities for the "American" cast to reach into their characters in unforeseen ways. Meanwhile, Lee's uncertainty about period detail allowed him to defer to production designer Mark Friedberg, who admits to having drawn from his own childhood growing up in the 1970s, and costume designer Carol Oditz, who had a very specific strategy for tapping into the era without succumbing to the temptations of nostalgia or cliché. (Her stunning costume sketches and collages are the DVD's most breathtaking goodies.)
Predictably, some of the comments on Lee's success with American topics fall into the usual references to the story's universal themes and human truths. But that's too easy a conclusion, and obviously short-sided if we consider the very real difficulties that Lee felt as an outsider, which he admits in the audio commentary. Perhaps nobody understands the importance of cultural and personal specificities more that the original novelist of The Ice Storm, Rick Moody. For Moody, The Ice Storm is not universal, but specific to his experiences growing up in 1970s New England. According to an interview with him, Moody had anxieties about a Taiwanese director handling his story. But as he articulately describes in the interview, the process of adaptation was a constant negotiation between producers who politely turn to Moody for insights, and a novelist who must learn to let go. Moody's comments are not a simple affirmation about the universality of family or sex. They're a sharp and mature acknowledgment of the mutual respect between artists working in different media. While I appreciate knowing the perspectives of Lee, Schamus, Kline, Allen, and the others, what makes this cubist exploration of The Ice Storm work for me is the inclusion of Moody's insights which never fall into the usual special feature love-fest, but rather breathes life into the process of filmmaking with honesty and clarity.