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Film Clips
NOVEMBER 24, 1997:
 THE ICE STORM. The '70s seem to be the hot decade in the
movies right now, and The Ice Storm is one of the few films
that treats that era as something other than camp. Based upon
the novel by Rick Moody, this quiet, intelligent story of a family
lurching through the chaos and disillusionment of the sexual revolution
and Watergate treats the decade as a time of lost innocence, dirty
secrets, and ungraceful quests for meaning. Kevin Kline and Joan
Allen play Ben and Elena Hood, a WASPy Connecticut couple whose
only fight has been over whether to quit "couples therapy."
We soon learn that this isn't due to a harmonious marriage; rather,
they're simply too dedicated to disguising their emotions to consider
fighting. Their teenage kids, Wendy (a terrific performance by
Christina Ricci) and Paul (Tobey Maguire) have absorbed this lesson
well and are already nurturing their own secret lives. Though
all four seem to long for closeness, all they can manage is to
edge farther apart, as the worst storm of the decade glazes the
trees and roads of their Connecticut town in a beautiful, treacherous
layer of ice. Director Ang Lee (Sense and Sensibility, Eat
Drink Man Woman) continues to do what he does best--chronicle
complicated family relationships with sensitivity and compassion.
--Richter
THE JACKAL. An assassination plot is about to be carried
out by a ruthless hitman who's a master of disguise, and the only
man who can stop him must be released from prison in order to
do so. Now that's originality! For all who haven't seen The
Rock, In the Line of Fire, The Professional, The Day of the Jackal,
or about 17 dozen other films about über-assassins and experts
let out of jail so they can stop them, this is the most daring,
innovative movie since Godard's Breathless. For the rest
of us, it's an expensive-looking but constipated series of preparation
scenes, as cold-hearted meanie Bruce Willis checks into airports
wearing various frizzy wigs, while former IRA sniper Richard Gere
anticipates where that rascally Jackal will strike next. Willis
has hardly any lines, Gere has too many (at least with that Irish
accent, it's too many), and good-guy FBI agent Sidney Poitier
basically stands around and watches. There's some nasty business
where Willis seduces a gay man to gain security clearance, and
also shoots somebody's arm off with a big gun. Director Michael
Caton-Jones approaches this smirking sadism in much the same way
he did for Tim Roth's character in Rob Roy: He lets the
evil permeate the entire picture, hoping we'll be relieved when
the accented hero finally saves the day. Aye, isn't it time for
a new approach, laddie? --Woodruff
THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO LITTLE. Okay, so this movie only has
one joke. And so its one joke could have been much better exploited,
with genuinely hilarious results instead of merely amusing ones.
Still, I had a fun time watching Bill Murray good-naturedly goof
his way around London, and even at its worst the movie deserves
tolerance. Murray plays a Des Moinesian dimwit who, on holiday
for his birthday, signs up for "The Theatre of Life,"
an audience-participation program where actors help you act out
an heroic mini-adventure in real-world settings. Somehow Murray
stumbles upon an actual espionage scheme (can you spell "contrivance"?)
and, the big silly, he thinks it's all part of the game. Murray
spends the rest of the movie blithely "acting" while
real hit-men and other shady characters come at him from all directions.
Idiot luck and conversations full of double-meanings ensue. If
this had been any other comic (say, Jim Carrey), the film would
probably be unwatchable; but Murray's easy-going yet well-tempered
mania saves the day. The gimmicky material is putty in Murray's
hands: he plays with it, rolls his eyes, winks, shrugs, dances
around a bit, and the show's over. Also starring the attractive
Peter Gallagher and Joanne Whalley as foils. --Woodruff
THE MYTH OF FINGERPRINTS. I must confess I have absolutely
no idea what the title means. Which is par for the course since
the movie, about a dysfunctional family which reunites for Thanksgiving,
left me equally confounded. Two brothers (Noah Wyle, Michael Vartan)
and two sisters (Julianne Moore, Laurel Holloman) come home to
find dad (Roy Scheider) as aloof and cranky as ever, while mom
(Blythe Danner) remains blissfully co-dependent. The story has
something to say about how the parents' warped psyches and repressions
trickle down to all the children, infecting their relationships
in ways they recognize yet can't control. But the characters are
sketchy and the scenes just don't seem to fit together. Whether
the effect of a bad screenplay or an overzealous editor, I'm not
sure, but the result is that The Myth of Fingerprints comes
across like a moody TV melodrama with Chekovian pretensions.
--Woodruff
TEMPTRESS MOON. The cinematography and sets are beautiful,
and the portrayal of the changing social rules of China in the
1920s fascinating in this period film about a handsome seducer
who victimizes the rich women of Shanghai. Leslie Cheung plays
Zhongliang, an intense gangster with a flair for melting the ladies'
hearts. He visits the traditional estate of the Pang clan, hoping
to squeeze the beautiful opium smoker Ruyi (Gong Li) for her fortune.
The plan, of course, goes horribly awry, and everybody ends up
falling in love with the wrong person. The plot tends to get melodramatic;
best to just relax and look at the pretty pictures assembled by
Chinese director Kaige Chen. --Richter
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