The Glass House
Every year, a notable Hollywood publication prints a summary of the best un-produced screenplays. Each and everyone is considered a masterpiece of its genre, but none have found their way into production.
With so many great screenplays languishing in limbo, it’s amazing what Hollywood chooses to put up on the big screen.
Take the new thriller “The Glass House.” Written by Wesley Strick, whose screenplay for Martin Scorsese’s remake of “Cape Fear” was filled with unbearable suspense, “The Glass House” shatters under the weight of an extremely silly script.
Melodrama at its worst, “The Glass House” feels so cheap and manufactured that it is impossible to take seriously. No one acts in this film, they overact. There are no surprises, just incredible lapses in logic. The film is nothing more than a second rate Lifetime cable movie, a chick flick that failed to hatch.
So instead of dusting off one of Hollywood’s un-produced treasures, television director Daniel Sackheim makes his theatrical debut with a script that should have stayed buried.
“The Glass House” wastes a good cast, forcing them to jump through flaming hoops that leave everyone burned. Sackheim, an Emmy award-winning television director whose resume includes “E.R.,” “Law & Order” and “The X-Files,” seems overwhelmed. Instead of nuance, we get annoying reminders that bigger isn’t necessarily better.
Leelee Sobieski, one of the best young actresses on the Hollywood landscape, plays 16-year-old valley girl Ruby, who with her younger brother Rhett (Trevor Morgan), lives with their parents in a comfortable house in Encino. When their parents are killed in an automobile accident, Ruby and Rhett are whisked off to live with family friends Terry (Stellan Skarsgard) and Erin (Diane Lane) Glass.
At first the arrangement seems like the perfect antidote to their blues. The Glasses live in a modern glass and steel fortress in the hills of Malibu, and immediately shower the children with expensive clothes and games. The first tip off that something is amiss comes when the Glasses pile Ruby and Rhett together in one room, even though their mansion has plenty of space.
Things go from bad to worse when family lawyer Begleiter (Bruce Dern) informs the children that they’re worth over $4 million, a fact not lost on the Glasses. When Ruby learns that Terry is in debt to loan sharks, she begins to fear for her and Rhett’s safety.
You begin suspect that Strick has stock in Western Union, because he telegraphs every pivotal plot point until the audience is so far ahead of the characters they never have a chance to catch up. His script relies on coincidence instead of true discovery. The characters are always at the right place and time.
Most films in this genre leave us guessing until the finale, catching us off guard at every conceivable moment. “The Glass House” plays its hand so early the game it is no longer fun. It becomes a waiting game, one that taxes the butt more than the mind.
Playing a modern day Nancy Drew, Sobieski looks lost. Her performance feels like a contractual obligation. She goes through the motions, but obviously knows that all of this is nonsense. Young Trevor Morgan (“Jurassic Park 3”) isn’t nearly as lucky. Rhett is so thinly written and directed he feels more like extra baggage than a character. Both actors will survive “The Glass House” without much damage.
The real hurt comes in watching pros like Stellan Skarsgard (“Good Will Hunting”) and Diane Lane (“The Perfect Storm”) wallow in this mess. Even though both actors attempt to shade the surrogate parents with ambiguity, the script and director don’t give them much leeway. Quiet moments between the two feel more like an aberration than skillful writing.
Instead, Skarsgard twirls his invisible mustache, while Lane hides behind a sinister facade that fools no one. Dern, a rebel with a cause, stands alone as the only person in the cast who understands the camp appeal of the script and plays to its silly strengths.
Except for “Cape Fear,” which was basically an update more than a rewrite, Strick has had a spotty career as a writer. He was co-writer of “Arachnophobia,” a creepy little film about a nasty spider invasion, but he also wrote or co-wrote the scripts for such cinematic tripe as “The Saint,” “Return to Paradise” and “Wolf.” “The Glass House” is among his worst.
Sackheim has made a sharp looking movie, with slick production design that turns a modern day glass and steel castle into a dungeon, and crisp cinematography by Alar Kivilo that paints every frame with ominous tones. Christopher Young’s score is just as guilty as Strick’s script when it comes to giving away the store.
“The Glass House” might have been more welcome as a made-for-cable or direct-to-video effort, but as a pay-per-view event it fails. Not only have we seen this film before, we’ve seen it done better. As another famous Rhett once proclaimed, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Indeed.
SEE THROUGH PLOT
The Glass House shatters under weight of silly script
THE GLASS HOUSE
Leelee Sobieski, Diane Lane, Stellan Skarsgard, Trevor Morgan, Bruce Dern, Kathy Baker. Directed by Daniel Sackheim. Rated PG-13. 105 Minutes
LARSEN RATING: $2.00
