Cast:
Laura Linney (Wendy Savage), Philip Seymour Hoffman (Jon Savage), Philip Bosco (Lenny Savage), Peter Friedman (Larry), Guy Boyd (Bill Lachman), Debra Monk (Nancy Lachman), Margo Martindale (Roz), Rosemary Murphy (Doris Metzger), David Zayas (Eduardo), and Gbenga Akinnagbe (Jimmy) Written and Directed by Tamara Jenkins.
Review:
“It was something that was happening all around me and at first I was scared to write about it. It’s an intimidating subject, but ultimately, I think The Savages is a story that is not just about confronting death but really also about seizing upon your life, even in the smallest of ways.”
Sometimes you just have to laugh with the pain. Tamara Jenkins was born in Philadelphia but was raised in California by her divorced father, and some of those experiences would take root in her first feature film with Slums of Beverly Hills (1998). At any rate, Jenkins first studied film with the Tisch School of the Arts at New York University after moving to the state to perform in various productions in the theater. Fugitive Love (1991) was her first short film, which received some buzz on the festival circuit (such as Sundance), and further work followed within public television (including a Guggenheim grant) alongside subsequent short films before getting the chance to make a feature. Nine years followed from her debut film, owing to her attempts at a failed screenplay and time spent with minor theater work; Jenkins would hone the script for the film over the course of a few years, for which it came out of one initial scene that she came up with involving a phone conversation between the two main characters that dealt with their divide as siblings - she has described the first draft as being 200 pages, with honing down coming in the subsequent stages. For the script, Jenkins utilized her experiences spent with her father and grandmother, who each had dementia and lived in nursing homes (it is not, however, a "strict memoir", as she put it). The film was shot in New York and Arizona over the course of 30 days and turned out to be a fair success for all involved, with Jenkins and Linney at the forefront of attention.
Undeniably, it isn't the easiest film to get into, probably because of the inexcusable fact that there is a certain type of people who just won't want to see folks that look like harsh husks of people in their personal lives deal with the inescapability of handling someone close to them die. But one can't escape the immeasurable talent provided by Linney and Hoffman to these roles that seem like yin and yang, and one cannot escape Jenkins in her accomplishment of a black comedy-drama about two folks that have to come together of what the past made them in the present in their issues that make for a tenderly human tale - imperfect, but aware enough to prove worthwhile to wince through. It is a film that takes its microscope to the human experience in a path we all have to face: growing old and seeing what we have become to those around us (and vice versa), whether that means as someone with emotional damage packed with them or with other characteristics that don't fit the usual mold that come from film involving death in its own way. It seemed fairly familiar to me, since my father had to deal with being cared for by others after having problems with both his hip and subsequently his leg and speech (which sticks with me even now, nearly nine years later). We all deal with care-taking and grief differently, but it is the fact that we have to deal with it at all that makes us human, and it just isn't something that can be solved so easily, modern sensibilities be damned (whether that means mediocre jobs, flings or whatever floats the boat of coping with dysfunction). It will prove rewarding for those who buy into what it says about the bonds of family within a bit of laughter in pain, for which I found it to be a pretty good one to sit for 113 minutes, right down to its stark contrasts that range from Sun City to Buffalo in terms of settings to see these people interact with (no guesses for which I might prefer to visit one day). Of the main duo, it is Linney we gravitate to in terms of seeing a person in turmoil, stuck in a middling rut that Linney pays wonderfully, mostly because she taps into the guilt and self-absorption that we can see in oneself without any mistimed notes or any tries at maudlin moments. Hoffman proves just as adept in a task in playing the flaws to what one can expect from an actor who specialized in distinct performances and never makes it seem like a copy, and the banter he shares with Linney in adjustment within life/death hit that delicate line of curiosity in tender mercy. Bosco had a mix of roles in television, stage, and film from 1953 to 2010, and this was his best-known and last film role prior to his death in 2018. Acting as the curmudgeon that shaped Linney and Hoffman in the family trio, he does pretty well with the material, managing to not waver in the balance of short temper and rapid descent in health without becoming an object of pity or simple scorn, reflecting the film's interest in character-driven drama with complexity that have no simple solutions or easy goodbyes (the best scene with the three of them, naturally, is the one where he berates them when they meekly ask him about arrangements for death). Friedman accompanies Linney at times with casual offbeat favor that makes for a few chuckles while Akinnagbe ends up being the last little key of interest with a bit of insight that connects with Linney for a time. Ultimately, we have a film of responsibility and obligation, where working on one's flaws are no easy feat to go alongside the most inevitable quality of all: getting older and confronting how one was shaped by the past around them, which generally results in a wincing chuckle that will prove rewarding enough for those who care for that sort of thing.
Next Time: Near the homestretch, it's time for Hustlers (2019).
Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.
No comments:
Post a Comment