By TAYLOR VAN ARSDALE is a writer/producer and movie reviewer for the Daily Press. She
Tamara Jenkins’ “The Savages” is everything a solid drama ought to be and so much more. With her gifted touch at illustrating complex familial situations and dexterity at crafting scenes that are poignant and funny Jenkins has reached new levels of cinematic candor within this quiet, charming piece.
The story focuses on brother and sister, Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Wendy (Laura Linney) as they come to terms with their father’s dementia and how to handle the responsibilities of caring for a parent who never really cared much for them. Their dilemma forces them to cohabitate (temporarily) for the first time since childhood, obliging them to confront the eccentricities that drove each other crazy, while simultaneously relying on each other. Wendy, with her optimistic naiveté, hopes to delay the inevitable — the father’s slow and steady demise — while Jon approaches the old man’s decline with harsh realism.
Set in Buffalo, NY, during the winter with its solitude and barren trees pressed against cold, gray skies — Jenkins has captured the very essence of the New York of my childhood — the stark desolation amplifies the gravity of the characters’ circumstances. Jenkins chose Buffalo because, “It was this American city that was really important and significant at one time, the first [city] to have electricity and now it’s obsolete, yet beautiful and sad and it sort of felt right.”
Jenkins, so adept at putting her characters in traumatic states, lets the natural humor of the situations shine through. She brings you to the brink of tears but allows you those crucial moments to smile by avoiding clichés, casting blunt characters that don’t beg for sympathy — which are all so human and so flawed, and honest — enabling the viewer to experience the weight of the issues without ever feeling manipulated or led about.
True to Jenkins sensibility, there are plenty of laughable moments. Don’t miss the beginning; Wendy prone on a cheap futon, having sex with her paramour, Larry (aptly played by Peter Friedman), whose golden retriever rests comfortably adjacent, barely out of arm’s length. While Larry’s grunting and going at it, Wendy’s expressions tell us, this relationship isn’t going where she’d like, that it’s no longer fulfilling her or keeping her interest, it’s reached it’s climax. She glances at the pooch, stretches out with her arm, smiles and strokes it’s paw. She’d rather be hanging out with the dog than with the dude, and yes, folks, though I’m loath to admit it, I truly identified with this scene. Another great moment comes later, when they learn of their father’s condition, Wendy implores Jon, “We have to go find him.” Jon’s response is, “No we don’t. We’re not in a Sam Shepard play.”
Linney’s masterful; she’s never been better, and Hoffman, the quintessential actor’s actor brings such honesty to this, and every role he plays. Both Hoffman and Linney agree, “The script was in perfect shape.” It was so tightly written they only improvised on two occasions; once in the car scene with Bosco and once when Hoffman is clad in a neck-harness. “It’s all Tamara,” explains Linney.
In person, Jenkins is full of wit and exuberance. She’s a powerful presence to be sure, but she’s warm and open (like every New Yorker) and I connect with her immediately. Wearing a black striped suit, (which looks expensive and Italian) and black platform shoes with a closed suede toe and a shiny checkerboard pattern on the side, she exudes complete class — and yet she’s so down to earth I feel like I’ve known her forever.
As for its title, there are various answers — each one resonates thematically for the movie. That a.) the characters grew up with very limited resources and as a result, they’ve become kind of uncivilized and desperate, that b.) there’s a savagery to old age and how it attacks you, and that c.) it represents how we dispose of the elderly in our society; how we quarantine them, because there is no rule book or civilized way of dealing with aging.
It took Jenkins almost nine years to complete the script. “Things got in the way,” she jokes. But there was quite a bit of research involved, rewriting and other projects she had been working on, but what’s impressive is she’s tackled such grim subject matter, and made it relatable, interesting and approachable. And though I don’t want another nine years to pass before Jenkins’ next film, I’ll happily and eagerly wait if it means the quality will be the same as “The Savages.” Do not miss this brilliant film!
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on November 30, 2007. Read the original PDF.