The Ice Storm
- R
- Year:
- 1997
- 112 min
- 539 Views
EXT. TRAIN - DARKNESS BEFORE DAWN
Suburban Connecticut, outside of New York City, 1973. The
still after a terrible storm. Trees dripping, their branches
torn, the air warming just before the break of a new day. The
train lies dark and motionless, a few flashing yellow
emergency lights up front, as a work crew removes debris from
the track.
INT. TRAIN. PRE-DAWN
Various passengers, huddled uncomfortably, cold, asleep.
On Paul Hood, 15-and-a-half, stoner-preppie look, hunched up
in his seat under the faint emergency exit light. He reads
his Fantastic Four comic book by the pale light of the
emergency exit sign.
Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker on and the hum of the
train's engines returns.
The conductor enters the car, blasting forth in his classic
nasal voice.
CONDUCTOR:
Good morning ladies and gentlemen --
He sounds like a baseball announcer.
PASSENGERS:
(mumbling, ad lib)
What ladies?
CONDUCTOR:
-- this train originating at New
York's Grand Central Station is
back in service - next stop will be
New Canaan, Connecticut. New
Canaan, Connecticut, next stop!
He moves on to the next car.
Paul rubs his elbow against the window and looks out into the
still-dark early morning.
He looks back down at his comic book.
On the comic book: Reed Richards (also known as Stretch) has
zapped his young son with a cosmic ray gun to neutralize the
destructive energy that Annihilus has implanted in him.
The Thing, Medusa, Flame, and Richards' wife Sue Storm look
on, stunned.
"THEN YOU'VE TURNED HIM INTO A
VEGETABLE. YOUR OWN SON." "DON'T
CONTINUED TO BUILD, HE WOULD HAVE
DESTROYED THE WQRLD!"
Paul looks up again, thinking.
PAUL (V.O.)
Fantastic Four, published in
November 1973, Reed Richards has to
use his anti-matter weapon on his
own son, who Annihilus has turned
into a human atom bomb. His son is
the result of Richards' coupling
with the earthling Sue Storm, and
the problem is that the cosmic rays
that infused Richards and the rest
of the Fantastic Four on their
aborted moon mission have made
young Franklin a volatile mixture
of matter and anti-matter.
EXT. TRAIN BRIDGE. PRE-DAWN
The train moves slowly through a suburban, semi-forested
landscape.
PAUL (V.O.)
And that's what it is to come from
a family, if you analyze it
closely. Each of them is negative
matter for the other ones. And
that's what dying is -- dying is
when your family, which is in fact
your personal negative matter from
which you emerge -- it's when the
family takes you back, thus hurling
you back into negative space...
INT. TRAIN. CONT'D.
On Paul, as the sun breaks over the horizon. His face glows
warmly in the yellow light. He looks down idly at the comic
book.
PAUL (V.O.)
So it's a paradox -- the closer
you're drawn back in, the further
into the void you're thrown.
EXT. CONRAIL STATION. EARLY MORNING
The train doors open, and Paul, weary from the long night,
emerges. He sees his family gathered at the other end of the
platform -- Ben, 40, a bit worse for wear but still retaining
traces of his boyish looks; Elena, 37, distant and elegant
even in her oversized sweater; and Wendy, 14, a sullen
suburban Lolita.
He pauses, regarding them.
They stand, silent, even dignified, awaiting him.
EXT. ST. PETER'S SCHOOL. MORNING
To establish. A typical New England prep school.
INT. PAUL AND FRANCIS'S DORM ROOM. MORNING
Cramped, a mess, but quaint. Paul shares the room with
Francis Davenport IV, a dissolute, smart-ass son of money.
Paul's alarm clock rings. He slams his hand down on it and
jumps out of bed, fully clothed in his rumpled preppie
uniform of frayed khakis, loose tie, shirt with one tail
untucked in, etc. Across the room, Francis beckons from his
desk, as he finishes loading up a four-foot-high bong.
FRANCIS:
Arise and shine, young Hood.
PAUL:
I hope you changed the water in
that bong from last night.
FRANCIS:
(finishing a hit)
The water, as you call it, is a
special mixture of amaretto and
Ben&Ben blended for just the exact
chemical interaction with the last
of our precious Thai stick.
Paul reluctantly walks over and takes a hit. He coughs,
spewing uninhaled smoke.
FRANCIS (CONT'D)
Waste not Master Hood -- that was
$20 for the bag.
PAUL:
(gathering books, papers,
almost talking to
himself)
Man, Francis, you are one drug
addled elitist freak, and when the
revolution comes I do not want to
be lined up with you and shot,
'cause you're f***ing ripe for
political reeducation, you know,
like in the fields.
FRANCIS:
Paul, cancel your mental
appointments, baby. What are you,
like still stoned from last night?
PAUL:
(spraying some chloroform
mouth spray)
INT. ST PETERS' CLASSROOM. DAY
Paul Hood sits blankly, hardly listening, until he hears the
teacher call out.
TEACHER:
Libbets?
LIBBETS:
What Dostoyevsky is saying here is
that to be a Christian is to
choose, because you have to choose
of your own choice, but since you
can't choose to be good because
that would be too rational you have
to choose to be bad -- it's
existential.
TEACHER:
Thank you Libbets, that's a very
compelling summary, but --
Paul looks at her, smitten. Marge, Paul's friend, notices his
look.
INT. ST. PETER'S HALLWAY. DAY
As class lets out, Paul accosts Libbets.
PAUL:
Um, Libbets. Hey, Dostoyevsky, I'm
also really a fan, and what you
were saying, you know, have you
ever read The Idiot?
LIBBETS:
The Idiot?
PAUL:
Underground, you'll love The Idiot.
LIBBETS:
(turning to go)
Great, thanks for the tip.
PAUL:
(after her)
The Idiot.
INT. ST. PETER'S HALLWAY. DAY
Paul walks with Marge.
PAUL:
I'm in love with Libbets Casey.
MARGE:
Yeah, well, you've been in love
with like every other girl here, I
was wondering when you'd get around
to Libbets.
PAUL:
It's beyond mere physical
attraction.
MARGE:
That's good, because I don't think
Libbets is capable of the sex act.
PAUL:
Truly? Do speak.
MARGE:
My diagnosis is messed in the head.
A poor little rich girl -- I mean
check out the jeans and fur look.
And lend your ears to this
brutality. Like her mom and step
dad and her step-sisters are going
to Switzerland to ski over
Thanksgiving break -- and like they
didn't invite her!
PAUL:
How do you know this sh*t?
MARGE:
They did it last year too. It's
like traditional or something.
They've got this humongoid Park Ave
apartment and she just holes up
there with a wad of cash.
(beat)
Aren't the hugely wealthy sad?
PAUL:
(pause)
You think Francis is going to beat
me to the punch here?
MARGE:
Since he sleeps with every girl you
ever show an interest in, why don't
you just keep your Libbets thing a
secret from him?
PAUL:
Good thinking Marge.
INT. SCHOOL PARTY. NIGHT
Paul, Francis and friends enter the dark, crowded room.
Various kids are awkwardly dancing to some progressive fm
style undanceable rock (Jethro Tull, etc.) Francis hands Paul
the tail end of a joint, but Paul waves it away.
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