I’m inventing a new category of film: the bleak comedy. Black comedy is satirical, it’s mean-spirited, but it’s also making a point, not necessarily a message. I think in college we were told that tragedy ends in death, and comedy ends in a marriage. I’ve seen a lot of movies over the last couple years that have been classified as a comedy that don’t end in marriage, and don’t end happy, and aren’t happy. Usually a good rule of thumb is that if there’s an older character in the movie, they’re going to be the wise salty one, deliver some sort of deus ex machina or nugget of truth, and then kick the bucket. I’m thinking of Little Miss Sunshine, Waitress, and this latest in the fold, The Savages.
The Savages is your perfect indie film. The characters are whiny, middle-aged, self-absorbed, creatively unfulfilled jerks who spend the entirety of the film in miserable relationships, screwed-up love lives, and genuinely making everyone around them feel like crap. It’s an unpleasant little slice of life, because, well, life is unpleasant. And it deals with getting older, both from the middle and the end of your life. And while there are some amusing tittering moments, for the most part, you just kind of feel like shit.
For example, while of the characters has sex on her folded-out futon with her married lover, a balding schlump who grunts and thrusts as sweat builds on his combback, the woman looks over and sees the dog laying its head on the bed staring lovingly at them. As so she reaches over, and touches the dog’s paw. While getting railed by this potato. That’s pretty much the thrust of the film.
The plot centers around a brother and sister who are estranged from their father, who is living in Arizona with his elderly girlfriend. They are called out to get him, after his lady dies and he’s proven himself to be difficult. And by difficult, I mean, he writes on the wall with his shit. The brother (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) is a professor of dramatic philosophy in New York, and the sister (Laura Linney) a temp who longs to be a playwright. The rest of the movie deals with their attempt to take care of their aging father (Philip Bosco), and all the guilt and pain that goes with a loved one essentially withering away with dementia.
The sister is trying to get funding to develop her play about unhappy families, and the brother is writing a paper on Brecht. And yes, I get the point, Brecht is a playwright famous for wanting his audiences to have arguments, and would rather have them feel than enjoy. You see? You see how clever we is? I got a degree too.
The Savages is not an enjoyable movie. That’s not to say it’s not good; it’s very good. It’s just not a very pleasant experience. It was written and directed by Tamara Jenkins, whose only real other credit was the somewhat enjoyable The Slums of Beverly Hills, which was much more charming but not as powerful as this one.
This had better get a lot of acting awards, and it goddamn deserves them. PSH already got a Golden Globe nod, because he’s always fucking good, in pretty much everything, even Twister, even Along Came Polly (I sharted), and he will continue to do so, world without end. I can already tell he’s better in Charlie Wilson’s War and he’s good in this. His character works. Because the acting needs to be subtle to play this guy. Laura Linney is even better, and needs to get nominated. She’s manic, she’s blustery, she’s depressing. It’s amazing to watch her in this. It’s easily the best female performance of the year, and should get a nod. Again, Laura Linney is always good. She’s just a talented actress, and her time will come. Hopefully, by Oscar voting time, more people will have seen this, and she’ll get a nomination. It’s a crime against humanity that she hasn’t.
However, the best acting performance in the entire movie, and I will say practically of the year, in a year full of amazing supporting male roles, is Philip Bosco. He’s been in everything, usually playing a judge or a cop or a doctor. He’s a character actor, and his performance in this is incredible. It’s easy to overlook it, because he’s playing someone with dementia, but watching him in the background while his children argue, or as he stares out at a cemetary, it’s moving. It was a part that had a more recognizable star undertaken, you would be hearing raves. Because Phil Bosco has spent his entire career playing second fiddle, it’s hard to appreciate him when he’s doing such a powerful job. But it’s been a good year for curmudgeons, and the Oscar folk are fucking sheep, so he’s going to get dissed. But seriously, aging Hollywood, do yourselves a favor and check this shit out. And not just the stuff he smears on the wall.
This will die an indie death in the theatres, and end up on most people’s Netflix, right behind most of the other, I should get to that one of these days, films. And rightfully so.
