Pure Savagery, Pure Beauty

Just watched The Savages the other day, with local boy done good Philip Seymour Hoffman and also the very talented Laura Linney. Hoffman by the way, though a great actor, always seems to be an asshole in every interview I've heard with him, included one my wife did through a satellite uplink. And is it in his contract to be about fifty pounds overweight and dumpy looking in every role he does (with the possible exception of Capote)?

But I digress. The Savages is intriguing just by the very title, which makes you wonder immediately, is this an ironic title, or is this a film about uncivillized knuckledraggers. Fortunately, it's the former. The thing that immediately grabbed me about the film is the look that is created, first in the quasi idyllic, or more accurately, sterile environs of the Arizona retirement community where the story begins. There are the rows of identical shrubs and trees that line the streets and the manicured ranch homes painted in pastel colors, enhanced by this golden light that everything is bathed in. And of course there is the time warp culture created for the benefit of the residents to make them feel at home with the music and entertainment from their own era. One of those residents, played brilliantly by Philip Bosco, finds himself in a crisis, with no family to care for him, and a breakdown of mental faculties. Enter his two estranged offspring, played by Linney and Hoffman, who reside across the country on either side of New York State.

The filmmakers play up the contrast of the first loaction with the dreary, cold and rather melancholy surroundings of Buffalo (yes that Buffalo). Not wanting to deal with their father, or each other for that matter, the two siblings bicker over what to do, finally settling on a rather depressing, low rent nursing home. Through the experience, they end up dealing with their own relationship, and making peace with the past. But it isn't one of those easy, feel good stories about redemption, tidying up each loose end in a neat bow. It takes the approach of realism, and there is nothing tidy about that.

I appreciate that position considering the way Hollywood loves to shove artificially sweetened storylines down our throats week after week. It brings me to The Kite Runner, which I had mentioned previously, but hadn't gotten around to actually writing about. I actually enjoyed the film for the most part, and I don't want to completely detract from it. For the first hour and a half or so, it worked quite well. It was a compelling story with interesting characters and did not betray its mission of portraying culture in Afghanistan in a realistic way. But then the disease got ahold of them and they ended up turning to some Hallmark tactics to wrap that bow up neatly.

This is where so many Hollywood movies lose me. They feel like the audience needs to be spoonfed. Like we somehow cannot take a story where some things just don't work out like you would want them to and where not every story line is satisfied. Afghanistan is a pretty terrible place to be right now. There aren't too many good stories coming out of there. So why sugar coat it and try to have me believe that the human spirit can rise above these circumstances? No it can't. Not there. Not now. So when the music begins to swell and the tears are rolling down the cheeks of other movie goers, my eyes are rolling. Give me a break. Don't insult my intelligence by trying to tell me that you can negotiate with terrorists, or that they have a heart somewhere deep down, or that you can outsmart them and escape certain death with a little determination. Not only does it make me lose interest in the implausible circumstances that are unfolding, but it cheapens what was otherwise a really well made film.

I listened to the commentary, just out of curiosity about what the filmmakers had to say about it. They spent a lot of time talking about the struggle they had with deciding whether or not to have the characters speak their native tongues as opposed to English. I have heard this many times recently and it puzzles me. Do filmmakers and studio execs really believe that people are incapable or unwilling to read subtitles in order to see a great story unfold onscreen? True there are those people out there, but this film is not for them. It's for people who like to use their brains for thinking about more complex things than what to order from the value meal. It seems to be an epidemic lately. Well, this is one viewer who is standing up and saying for the love of God, just give me a good story, no matter what language it's in.