THE SAVAGES. Dir Tamara Jenkins. 2007

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Pitch perfect. Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman play a brother and sister (Wendy and Jon) with some distance between them. Both writers, he is a college professor specializing in Brecht, she is an aspiring playwright. Both are uneasy about their childhood and have put it behind them, until a crisis recalls them to their estranged father. They have to care for him when he had never cared much for them.

Seen from Wendy's viewpoint, she reacts emotionally, tries to do the right thing and feels guilty, while Jon takes a practical line, refusing to make a fuss about any of it, which she misinterprets as a callous attitude. It reveals an interesting difference in approaches to the elderly, and his calm, reasoned approach seems the more effective. When Wendy agonizes about how to ask their father what they should do in the event of his unconsciousness or 'possible' death, their father shouts 'Pull the plug! Bury me!' as though they are idiots.

Now and again, brother and sister regress into competitive bickering which is funny and excruciating at the same time and, for a moment, the viewpoint switches into that of their father, giving a sense of his desire to escape from them. From the dessicated and claustrophobic retirement village 'Sun City' to the messy apartments and slightly messy lives of the siblings, the whole film is excellent, realistic and funny.

Comments

OLD JOY. Dir Kelly Reichardt. 2005

Dropout Kurt arrives in town and calls up his old friend, earnest father-to-be Mark to suggest a camping trip out in the forest, away from the city. They haven’t seen each other for some time and the film suggests a desire for intimacy as well as a quest for peace. Something of a lost soul, Kurt is emotional and, at times, to be pitied. He lives outside society, in a world of new age type retreats and travels, which seem to have left him out on the margins. In contrast, Mark has a home and a pregnant partner, and tunes his car radio in to phone-ins with much loud chat about the state of society in America but he seems only half alive. They drive out of town, with the camera as passenger, which gazes out of the car window while a gorgeous soundtrack by Yo La Tengo sets a mellow mood. The use of extended silence makes me a little uneasy; it’s hard to get away from memories of Deliverance, and a sense of apprehension. In the city, the glass of the car windows insulates us...

Ralph McTell, Truro, 19 April 2007

Ralph's mates from Pentewan have all turned up in a mini bus to hear him sing and play, and he walks onto the stage looking comfortable; he's amongst friends. He's a big man; very charismatic, with a warm smile and a beguiling aura of powerful gentleness. He's relaxed, we're relaxed, and he sits with his guitar, chatting easily between songs, and playing with an easy familiarity with us, and with his material. His guitar playing is intricate and playful; going from ragtime to blues to folk, and his voice is deep and rich. He comments that he's put together quite a serious programme for the two hours he's on stage; it's true that the lyrics are thoughtful and the subjects serious, but there is light material too; a tune about Laurel and Hardy, and one or two covers of old blues numbers. When he sings Streets of London there are happy sighs and the audience sing along very softly; as softly as a whisper. It feels as intimate as if we were just a few people...

Use and Abuse

Sitting outside in the evening sun with ice chinking in my gin and tonic, our chatter is interrupted by the mildly irritating, feeble piping of a child’s recorder. Five or so minutes later a little boy, aged about seven, is planted by the entrance door to the theatre, and carries on blowing down the damned thing. A woman folds a towel and places it by his feet. The boy’s little sister is placed alongside her brother; she’s about five. The woman walks up and down the piazza with a mobile phone clamped to her ear, talking incessantly. Sometimes she comes and sits with a man but they do not go near the two children. The children are pale; they look miserable, and keep going over to the man and woman, but are brought back to the theatre door. It is not obvious the first time he does it, but the man makes a flamboyant gesture of bending forward, dropping coins onto the folded towel, giving a thumbs up sign to the little boy, smiling broadly and then walking away. He seemed to be a man in th...

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