Based on sheer talent, Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman should be the most famous, A-list stars in the world – but although Hoffman is now an Oscar winner for Truman, both actors continue to keep just under Hollywood’s superstar radar… which I suppose is a good thing, since it allows them the freedom to work in smaller, more intimate projects like The Savages, a smart, insightful family drama about growing old, growing up, and knowing that one does not necessarily involve the other.
Wendy (Linney) and Jon Savage (Hoffman) leave their lives of urban discontent for what they think is a brief spell when the live-in girlfriend of their dad Lenny (Philip Bosco) finally passes away. But they realise soon enough that they’re not just there to help Dad move house – they are confronted instead with the very harsh reality of Lenny’s age, and the onset of a form of dementia that means neither of them can take care of him on their own. It means coming to terms with a lot: their own dreams of becoming writers (Wendy boasts that she got a grant from a foundation Jon has been applying to for years), their deep-rooted feelings of abandonment by their parents, their own humdrum lives tainted by their own inability to buy into the idea that they deserve something better than they think they do. And all this, of course, means growing up – something neither of them has done enough of just yet, in their forty-ish or so years of existence.
So far so Hallmark movie of the week, right? Middle-aged siblings come together to help their decrepit old father, and along the way discover the meaning of love and family? Well, yes – at its heart, TS is a drama that does exactly that… but what really works here, beyond the performances of its leads (obviously), is that all these points are made in a subtle, grounded way. The moments of catharsis – what moments of catharsis there are – are genuine, real, believable. Whether it’s Lenny slowly turning up the static on his hearing aid to drown out a heated argument between brother and sister, or Wendy’s surprisingly mature affair with the married, paunchy Larry (Peter Friedman), the hurt and pain that underlies each of these moments never feels like a Hollywood Moment, manipulated within an inch of its life. Instead, you feel Wendy’s sorrow and frustration as she plays the stereotypical role of the desperate mistress, or as she tries to buy things to make Lenny happy and only realises that he doesn’t care for these accoutrements (and if he did, sometimes he won’t remember what she did for him), or Jon’s screwed-up inability to let himself admit how much he needs his girlfriend – to the point that she’s deported from the US instead.
Best of all, TS does not end in the form of a cheerily gift-wrapped package, all loose ends knotted up and ready for neat public consumption. The denouement, as Wendy and Jon get on with their lives and get on with living, feels like an organic part of the whole: not a happily-ever-after ending – for who gets those in real life? – but a new beginning on a minor note for each character, as they try to find what meaning they can from what they’ve been through, and move on from there. This is all shot through with welcome moments of levity: Wendy and Jon crashing a ‘dealing with dementia’ seminar only to be admonished for eating the snacks before they’re served, Jon’s comical tennis injury that requires him to stand suspended in traction at his front door while he jokes and finally argues with his sister… and also ones of cringeworthy pathos, the kind that come only in real life – like when Wendy tries to coach Lenny into giving the right answers at a crucial interview that will get him into a better old folks’ home.
Of course, Linney and Hoffman are fantastic – she, with consummate skill, sketches across her face and through the lines of her body every emotion Wendy feels, while he brings his particular brand of intense, hangdog charm to the role of Jon. It’s a treat to see them sparring with each other, demonstrating the kind of sparky chemistry that only gets ignited between two great actors who are both at the very top of their game. If there’s any justice in Hollywood (and we know there frequently isn’t), Linney will win her Oscar for this role (after all, it is, or should be, only a matter of time before the Academy recognises her as a highly deserving member of its pantheon of actress-goddesses).
If you tend to get upset with films that lack a proper, neat resolution, or get bored during talky films, I doubt TS is a film you’d like. But for a slice of winning, worthy drama – intelligent and real and screwed-up in the way only real life can be and Hollywood, at times, seldom is – you can’t go far wrong with this one.
shawneofthedead 