'The Ice Storm' and 'Mr. Big'

I haven't watched Ang Lee's The Ice Storm, scripted by the stalwart James Schamus from the novel of '70s anomie by Rick Moody, since it first came out over ten years ago. Not because I don't like it—I think it's spectacular, and a breakthrough for Lee, in that his debut collaboration with cinematographer Frederick Elmes marks the first time his work contains some visual kick—but because it's, you know, kind of painful to sit through and process and all. But I checked it out again recently, in its new Criterion Collection two-disc DVD edition, and I was impressed to see it still retains its mordant strength, and also bemused at the kind of tricks memory is apt to play on one's recollection of a film, particularly if there's some strong emotional connection to the components involved.

The emotional connection has to do with music. The scene's late in the film, on the night of the titular storm, and the key party, the night teen Paul Hood (Tobey Maguire) hopes to seduce Manhattanite school crush Libbetts Casey (Katie Holmes). He finds that their date, at her parents' swank apartment, is a three's-a-crowd affair, with Francis Davenport (David Krumholtz) the complicating party.

Still, Hood soldiers on, contriving to dope the both of them into unconsciousness via the pharmacopeia that is the Casey medicine cabinet, and then have his way with Libbetts. As with so much else in the film, there's a high "ick" factor here. The period pop and rock music on the soundtrack—in this case emanating from the Casey reel-to-reel tape deck, how very '70s hi-fi—counterpoints the actions beautifully. One of the songs is "Mr. Big," by the underrated mainstream rockers Free, the not-quite-so-successful followup single to their smash "All Right Now." It's a smoldering bit of anti-authoritarianism grounded by one of guitarist Paul Kossoff's most memorable riffs, sexily slinky and sinister at the same time.

In my recollection of the film the tape deck is seen in close-up as the song begins, and the camera holds as the riff progresses; then there's a cut, and Hood is seen placing himself closer to the ever sleepier Libbetts, and the effect is something milder than, but akin to, the scene where Dylan Baker drugs the little boy in Happiness. With the song playing in the background all the while.

In the movie it's nothing like that.

No close-up of the tape deck. There it is, as it appears in the film, in the right side of the frame; an accoutrement of the Casey's well-appointed library. And this shot doesn't cut away; it tracks left, to where Libbetts and Francis are sitting on the floor, zonked out; and the side of someone's head is in the left foreground of the frame. Rack focus so the head, fingers twirling hair, is clear, and reverse angle cut: Paul, sitting in an easy chair, kind of zonked himself, looking down ad Libbets and Francis and perhaps communing with his conscience. And cut, back to a scene in Connecticut. Song plays for about seventeen seconds.

How did my version come into being? A combination of factors—my own love for the song. My own idealized memories of interactions with girls in my teens—as it happens, Paul Hood's teen years correspond exactly with my own, although I was way more wary of fooling around with drugs than he and his crew were. Those Sonny Bono scare movies in health class worked! Also, we declasse Jersey slobs found that booze did the job, such as it was, just as well as pills. But I digress.

Here's a good live version of the song...

Have you ever cherished a particularly strong memory of a scene from a movie, only to find something wholly other when you go back and actually watch the thing again?

Comments

[md'a]

I once invented a completely different ending for a film in my head, and was flabbergasted when I finally rewatched said film and discovered the poetic non-resolution I'd cherished never actually happened. Unfortunately, there's no point in elaborating as virtually nobody's seen the movie in question: Carl Colpaert's 1992 film Delusion. (Underrated.)

[bill]

Until watching it again recently, I'd always thought Judi Bowker's nude scene in "Clash of the Titans" was much longer than it really is. Imagine my dismay.

[Tony Dayoub]

"Unfortunately, there's no point in elaborating as virtually nobody's seen the movie in question: Carl Colpaert's 1992 film Delusion. (Underrated.) "

I wish you would elaborate, as I do remember this movie (and actress Jennifer Rubin) very fondly.

As to my faulty movie memory, until recently I had thought that Art Garfunkel's character had committed necrophilia in Bad Timing. It was only upon recently viewing the Criterion edition that I realized his girlfriend hadn't actually died.

But like your memory of Ice Storm, I think mine became more extreme because of the obvious "skeeze factor" of the rape aspect of Bad Timing's scene.

[Ryland Walker Knight]

I feel like that happens every time I rewatch a Claire Denis picture. Things just coalesce different. Especially the most recent visit with _L'intrus_: somehow I'd forgotten about the night out on the town in Bangkok or wherever when the spectre-ish, batty-looking Russian lady (Katarina Gobl-something) tells our man (Michel Subor) his heart is empty. Such a crucial scene! Plus, with that movie, I never remember how long some of those shots looking out from the bow of a ship last...

Are you a Denis fan, GK?

[swhitty]

Constantly, and my versions are always some fantasy "director's cut" -- more nudity, more violence, and just generally more extreme anything. The filmmakers are generally far more subtle than my memory, which is generally a good thing.

Still, I know some people cling to their (mistaken) recollections. I had one reader swear, vehemently, that when first shown, "Vertigo" had no flashback at all -- "And was a much better picture!" Others remember b/w films in color, or with different endings.

[Glenn Kenny]

Ryland, I pretty much worship Claire Denis. And I love "L'Intrus" which I think overtly invites the viewer to mash it up in his or her consciousness!

[Ryland Walker Knight]

Ditto. (Dope.)

[Preston]

I had the same thing occur when I was hyping, of all things "Afterlife" by Kore-eda, to my wife and her friend. It was a favorite of mine and I excitedly explained scenes to them and got them all hopped up. They saw it and asked if we were watching the same movie. I had to watch it again after 3 years or so. I had in fact mis-remembered certain points regarding the characters memories. Still love the film, though.

[oakling]

I'm stuck on Libbetts Casey. That's not a name!!

[Jeff B]

It just happened to me with The World According To Garp and the rear end collission in which a member of the cast gets bit.

It was on tv the other day and I told my friend about the upcoming scene, vividly recalling a yelp of pain and reaction shots. But when the scene arrived it freeze frames on the kid and zooms in and the other tragedy isn't mentioned until a little later in the movie.

[Dave AA]

The girl was alive? I thought Bad Timing was famous for its necrophilia?

[sleeper]

My wife saw Juliet of the Spirits in her senior year of high school. Years later, she distinctly remembered a dream sequence involving a dead horse floating on a raft. Then she re-watched it only to find that the raft was actually covered with naked men and women. No horse. Not sure what happened there.

[Eksantrik Presler]

Ang Lee is a perfectionist, and it shows here in this excellent film about relationships between friends, lovers and families. The attention to detail is second to none, this film is wonderfully crafted, the landscape is filled in every scene with the beauty of nature or the ugliness of the humans that inhabit it. The dysfunctional family is not only observed, it is clinically dissected and placed under a microscope. So many divergent paths these characters take, so many of them the wrong paths, it is hard to look away, because morbid curiosity grips all of us at times. Sigourney Weaver and Joan Allen are both outstanding here and well supported by the rest of this talented cast. Highly recommended.