The Ice Storm

Koko: Yuck. Just . . . yuck. 62

Slothrop: Kids fucking up their childhood to enter the world of adults; the adults themselves having fucked up their own world, act like children. Everyone is a flying burrito and an asshole. Honesty is lost underneath all those sweaters with drawings on them. This movie--which makes lots of mistakes Slothrop the director would not have made--is nonetheless a good movie, but could have been called Soft Meadow of Happy Fluffy Bunnies and it still would have been unpleasant to watch. The ice storm motif doesn't add to the misery of the movie but flatly complements it. So if anyone wants Slothrop's copy its yours (he bought it in a supermarket for $7.99)--gonna quarantine the movie collection from these cooties. But for what it's worth, Dylan can save you the trouble of watching this film in two stanzas:

No one tried to say a thing

When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."

Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.