The Savages

Director: Tamara Jenkins
Starring: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Laura Linney, Philip Bosco, Peter Friedman
Studio: Fox Searchlight

Presenting geriatric dexterity ranging from tandem bicycle-riding to water aerobics, lawn-bowls and well-permed cheerleading, Tamara Jenkins's opening sequence rivals the Coen brothers' flare for the surreal. With an always-sunny haze in a resort-wear world where restaurants are judged by the size of their AARP discounts, this director unleashes The Savages with a sharp lens that manages to grow ever more intuitive as the reality of this world darkens from Arizona's sun-filled winter to Buffalo's shades of grey, where the despair of dementia and the dramas of sibling dramatists descend on a grown family only now forging a familiarity. 

The first sign that all is not sane in Sun City, Arizona, begins when octogenarian Lenny Savage (Philip Bosco) strives to take a stand against authority by using his dung as a bathroom decorating tool. While all is not well (and getting worse) within Lenny's world, the children he discarded earlier in life don't seem to be finding serenity, either - Philip Seymour Hoffman's Jon cannot commit to his Polish sweetheart (whose cooking makes Jon cry but who needs a U.S. visa to remain by his side), and Laura Linney's Wendy can commit only to a litany of lies about her literary success and to infrequent intercourse with a neighbor who is both emotionally and institutionally unavailable.

Jenkins skillfully utilizes honest moments of hilarity to alleviate the more somber side-effects of senility and eldercare. The scenes featuring Bosco as a parent suffering from dementia, and the guilt that wreaks on the offspring responsible for that parent's care, prey on an audience's innate fear of the physical demise of their parents' generation. The Savages' situation is intensified by the fact that this parent never took the time to care for Jon and Wendy, who, without the luxuries of money, must dig deep to invest themselves in this unstable relationship.

To anyone with a loved one (pet or parent) who has been debilitated by disease or dementia, Jenkins's tale rings as true a bell as liberty. Bosco is simply brilliant as Lenny, simultaneously feared and frail; and, much like Alan Arkin's respected outing in Little Miss Sunshine in 2006, it would be no surprise (and well deserved) if the much-lauded Tony Award-winner receives a nomination for Best Actor in a Supporting Role from Oscar come January.  As pitch perfect as Philip Seymour Hoffman's performance (always) is, the actor most on display in this 2007 Sundance Film Festival favorite is Laura Linney. Linney has been nominated by the Academy twice before, and delaying this film for release in December should ensure that Oscar voters will have Linney in mind for another nod this season. I'd go so far as to say that voters would seem wildly remiss if they overlooked this powerful performance of a single woman struggling with her own personal and professional failings, who continues to tone-up to television workout routines and who, despite repeated rejection, continues to send hopeful orange envelopes seeking fellowships and funding.

Stephen Trask's subtly toned score should also be celebrated. In contrast to his previously acclaimed work on Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Trask's sounds underline the powerful performances and complement a soundtrack that includes the classy Irving Berlin as well as Peggy Lee, Bertolt Brecht and The Kinks.  Given the sensitivity of the material and the richness of its execution, it also comes as no surprise to see the familiar names of Anthony Bregman (Lovely & Amazing, Thumbsucker, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) as well as Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor (Sideways, Election, About Schmidt) amongst those listed as executive producers.

Jenkins has assembled a fantastic team around her soul-searing script and has executed this story with humor and sincerity - and with a cast crafted to draw an audience to a film whose subject matter might otherwise have proved off-putting to generations of entertainment junkies.  It's been almost ten years since Jenkins's underrated comedy Slums of Beverly Hills; we can only hope she won't choose to wait so long before bringing us another insight-filled installment. The Savages is a class act.