September 14, 2001 | There’s something weirdly fascinating about a thriller as potently trashy as The Glass House, something almost indecently attention-grabbing about the lurid overstatement of its B-movie melodramatics. This twisted modern-day fairy tale has all the subtlety of a jackhammer, and spins totally out of control in the final reel. And yet, almost in spite of itself, the movie occasionally manages to do an end run around your better judgment, if only to shock you with a shamelessly button-pushing cheap trick.
Leelee Sobieski (Eyes Wide Shut, Never Been Kissed), perhaps the most promising film actress of her generation, almost single-handedly propels the storyline across some rough stretches of gaping plot holes. She’s exceptionally well cast as Ruby Baker, a mildly rebellious 16-year-old Valley Girl whose comfortable life takes a nasty turn when her mother (Rita Wilson) and father (Michael O’Keefe) are killed in an auto accident.
(Well, at least it appears to be an accident…)
Along with Rhett (Trevor Morgan), her 11-year-old brother, Ruby winds up living with family friends, Erin (Diane Lane) and Terry Glass (Stellan Skarsgard), who were named as their legal guardians in their parents’ will.
At first, the siblings are reasonably happy in their new surroundings, even though the Glasses’ Malibu home is one of those high-tech, glass-and-steel monstrosities that, in movies, are natural habitats for drug dealers, criminal masterminds and other anti-social types.
(The Glasses live in a glass house — get it? Hey, I warned you: Subtle, this movie ain’t.)
Granted, Ruby isn’t too thrilled about having to share a bedroom with her brother — for reasons, by the way, that are never satisfactorily explained — but never mind: The Glasses appear kind-hearted, generous and genuinely concerned for their well-being. Things, Ruby figures, could be a lot worse.
And then, of course, things get worse.
At first, Ruby copes with mildly unsettling irritants, like the way Erin eavesdrops on her phone calls, and the way Terry behaves — is he making a pass, or what? — in a restaurant and during the drive home. Ruby’s discomfort level increases when she pays an unannounced visit to Terry’s limousine-rental business, and finds her guardian in conference with investors. Investors, it should be noted, who express themselves nonverbally as they press their demands for speedy repayment.
Troubling questions arise. Like, what is Erin, a licensed physician, shooting into her veins at odd hours? Why has Terry accepted a large refund from the private school that Ruby and Rhett were supposed to attend? Can Alvin Begleiter (Bruce Dern), the lawyer charged with overseeing the siblings’ inheritance, be trusted? Come to think of it, just how big is that inheritance anyway? Big enough for someone — like, oh, I dunno, maybe the Glasses – to contemplate foul play?
And what about Chris Noth of Law & Order and Sex and the City, who plays Ruby and Rhett’s Uncle Jack? Is he going to actually do anything here? Or will he be stuck with a role that’s even smaller, and less essential, than his Cast Away cameo?
The Glass House is the first feature directed by Emmy Award-winning television veteran Daniel Sackheim (The X-Files, NYPD Blue). Judging from what he does here, I’d advise him not to quit his day job. He evidences no instinct for composition or camera placement, and his sense of pacing is such that the narrative proceeds in skittish starts and stops. (Maybe, through force of habit, he wanted to indicate places where commercials could be inserted.) Still, Sackheim doesn’t botch those scenes that are supposed to make you anxious, and the other scenes that make you want to shout at the screen: “Get out! Get out!”
The logic in Wesley Strick’s screenplay is, to put it charitably, less than watertight. He would have done well to attempt another draft or two, because there is enough good stuff here — including some skillful exploitation of primal fears about the vulnerability of children and the treachery of adults — to indicate a much better movie could have made with the same basic plot.
As it stands, Glass House relies primarily on its two lead players to keep our adrenaline racing and our paranoia stoked. Sobieski is a persuasive and sympathetic protagonist, giving the audience a rooting interest in the story’s outcome. Skarsgard is too transparently villainous too early in the game, but he’s very good at sweaty desperation and frantic self-rationalization. He also gets the movie’s best line, when Terry halts an escape attempt by Ruby and Rhett: “You kids,” he huffs, “are a handful!”
