On November 6 I attended a sneak preview of this flick called The Savages starring Philip Seymour Hoffman, Laura Linney, and Philip Bosco. It was followed by a Q&A with Philip Seymour Hoffman himself, which I have to admit was the main draw for me going in the first place. I've been a fan o' Phil's since, let me think, I guess since he played the gay grip in Boogie Nights. Since then his career has really taken off into the stratosphere, and the chance to see him in person was too cool to pass up.
Before I get to the Q&A, let me talk about the film first. It was pretty decent. The protagonist is Wendy Savage (awesome name, isn't it?), played by the always-terrific Laura Linney. She's sort of in a depressing spot in life right now. An MFA in theater living in Manhattan, she's pushing 40 and temping at some dismal fluorescent-riddled office while trying to kick-start her playwriting career. By hearing her voiceover while she writes these grant applications at work, we see right off the bat that the play she's just finished was inspired by her depressing childhood with a mom who left the family early on and a father who was a real prick. When she's not temping or writing, she's having an affair with a married guy in his fifties.
Meanwhile in Arizona, the father whom she's vilifying in her play, Lenny Savage, is
going through a mental deterioration. His long-time girlfriend, at least as ancient as he is, drops dead in a nail salon. This comes on the heels of his first symptoms of dementia: using his own shit to write insults about his orderly on the bathroom wall. The children of Len's late girlfriend want him out. They never really liked him to begin with, so they call poor ol' Wendy in New York to take him off their hands.
Here's what you have to understand about Wen. She's on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds. Even in the most placid seas, she's a bit on the high-strung side. So when she gets the call from Arizona that Dad's losing his marbles and is about to get his ass kicked out of his late gal's home, she panics and calls the only person she can think of: her older brother Jon Savage, played by, you guessed it, Philip Seymour to the Hoffman.
Jon's in his early forties and holds a PhD in Bertolt Brecht or some shit. No, really, something like that. He teaches Brecht in Buffalo where he lives with his gal, a Polish immigrant who's about to be sent back to her home land because of a green card technicality. So he's sort of down in the dumps already when his kid sis calls. And to make matters hairier, he and Wendy haven't exactly been close, at least not since they were kiddies.
Anywho, so they go to Arizona and bring Dad back to a nursing home in Buffalo. Laura Linney, meanwhile, has to crash at her brother's pad, which is imploding with books he's compiled for researching his next scholarly publication or whatever. I won't spill all, but suffice
it to say that the whole experience renews the sibling bond between Wendy and Jon. Sounds pretty simple, I know, and it is. The enjoyment from this film doesn't come from the plot, but the characters, and by extension the actors. The trio at the fore here--Philip Seymour Hoffman, Laura Linney, and Philip Bosco--are impeccable in their roles. Mind you, these are actors who consistently deliver grand slam performances in everything they do. But if it's possible that they've outdone themselves yet again, they have.
The film was written and directed by Philly native Tamara Jenkins. Her last feature was 1998's Slums of Beverly Hills, which supposedly was semi-autobiographical. It also featured a great cast that included Natasha Lyonne (in the Tamara Jenkins role, Vivian), the always awesome Alan Arkin, and Marisa Tomei. If you haven't seen Slums, toss it onto your Netflix queue, stat.
As I said above, the film was followed by a Q&A with Philip Seymour Hoffman. After the credits finished
rolling and the lights came up, the moderator came up to introduce our leading man. First, let me say that the moderator, an employee at this theater named Grant, is hilarious. He always introduces the films at the beginning of the night and also tells us about other programs in the coming days and weeks. Then, if the program includes a Q&A, he's usually the one to conduct it. At the front of the theater the floor is slightly raised. While the credits roll, theater workers bring up chairs for Grant and our celeb of the night as well as a one-sheet for the film, usually propped on an easel behind our distinguished guest.
On this night, Philip Seymour Hoffman was dressed ultra casual. He had a T-shirt sort of affair under a black button sweater which was unbuttoned. His blond hair was sorta scruffy and his chubby cheeks sort of stubby, with a pair of round specs to top it off. His whole bearing wasn't too different from his character Jon Savage: An academic who was so devoted to his career that he was perpetually underslept and had no time for anything else, including his wardrobe.
As with all the Q&As, Grant gets things started with a few questions before opening up the floor for anyone from the audience to stand up and ask something. One of the questions he posed to Phil was about his prep work, both for this role specifically and for movies in general. Phil said that it differs from movie to movie. For The Savages, he didn't have to do too much preparation or getting into character because the familial conflicts in The Savages aren't too different from his real family. Unfortunately, he didn't elaborate much on that. Although he did say that his father called him after seeing the film and said something like, "This is so upsetting." But then again, Phil said, his father often calls him up and says that very same thing after a lot of his movies. Upon seeing his son play a megalomaniacal terrorist in Mission:Impossible III: "This is so upsetting." And so on. The most intense prep work he ever had to do was for Capote. It took him a good seven months or so of perfecting the voice and mannerisms and whatnot to play Truman.
As for The Savages, he went on to say that the toughest thing about making it was holding his
own against Laura Linney and Philip Bosco. As a theater student many years ago, he used to see Philip Bosco on Broadway, and it was intimidating for him to be working with him now. "They're both so smart," he said more than once about his costars. "They're both such smart actors. So smart."
Someone from the audience asked if there were any directors, alive or dead, he wishes he could work with/could've worked with. He actually didn't have any names to give. First of all, if you're familiar with Phil's oeuvre, you already know that he's been pretty lucky with the directors he's worked with. He's got nothing to complain about, and he acknowledged that. Further, he said he didn't want to have to do any work if he didn't have to. Phil's all about the path of least resistance. For example, if he's at home watching TV, and some great old Hitchcock film or whatever comes on, he doesn't go, "Aw man, I wish I could've worked with Hitch." Instead, he says he always feels grateful he didn't have to do all that work and that he gets to sprawl on his couch and just enjoy the flick.
Someone asked him why he made Love Liza. The reason was simple: His olde
r brother Gordy wrote it. You ever see Love Liza? It came out in '02 or '03 or thereabouts. It was a small picture, one of those arthouse flicks that are here and gone while you blink. Maybe that's why the guy asked Phil why he made it, since he was already at a point in his career where he could've picked anything. I only saw it eventually courtesy of Netflix. It's decent, nothing earth shattering, but worth seeing once if for anything then the performances. I won't spoil the whole thing for you, but here's the gist of the plot. Phil plays a guy named Wilson. When the film starts, his wife Liza has just committed suicide. She's left a note. He refuses to read it and tries to get on with his life. 'Course, having Liza's mom around (played by the criminally underused Kathy Bates) sorta makes things awkward, as does Wilson's penchant for inhaling gas fumes. Phil made a point of saying that Love Liza wasn't inspired by real events. People had asked him that a lot, he said, and he just wanted to nip that in the bud right now.
And then a very awkward moment came along, right toward the end. A young man from the audience got up and asked plenty loud enough for the packed house to hear: "So, do you think your acting's better now that you're sober?"
Dead silence. Grant the moderator gave the dude an evil eye, but Phil, bless 'im, took the question in perfect stride. He repeated the question to himself and finally said something like: "There've been plenty of actors who were drunk to their dying day, and their acting never suffered. So I couldn't tell you if my acting's better. I just don't know."
Grant allowed one more question after that. Someone toward the very front asked another director question. I think it was along the lines of, of the directors he has worked with so far, who was his favorite. He couldn't think of one and went on to say that he didn't really bother rating his directors. When you work on a film, you're around the same people for so long that there's bound to be some tension and disagreement now and again. No matter how much you like a director, it was inevitable. So he couldn't pick a favorite, just as it's not always easy to pick a favorite boss. A boss is a boss is a boss. He did make a point of reiterating that he felt lucky to have worked with the directors he's worked with. So while he couldn't pick a favorite, he had no complaints either.
Before I get to the Q&A, let me talk about the film first. It was pretty decent. The protagonist is Wendy Savage (awesome name, isn't it?), played by the always-terrific Laura Linney. She's sort of in a depressing spot in life right now. An MFA in theater living in Manhattan, she's pushing 40 and temping at some dismal fluorescent-riddled office while trying to kick-start her playwriting career. By hearing her voiceover while she writes these grant applications at work, we see right off the bat that the play she's just finished was inspired by her depressing childhood with a mom who left the family early on and a father who was a real prick. When she's not temping or writing, she's having an affair with a married guy in his fifties.
Meanwhile in Arizona, the father whom she's vilifying in her play, Lenny Savage, is
going through a mental deterioration. His long-time girlfriend, at least as ancient as he is, drops dead in a nail salon. This comes on the heels of his first symptoms of dementia: using his own shit to write insults about his orderly on the bathroom wall. The children of Len's late girlfriend want him out. They never really liked him to begin with, so they call poor ol' Wendy in New York to take him off their hands.Here's what you have to understand about Wen. She's on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds. Even in the most placid seas, she's a bit on the high-strung side. So when she gets the call from Arizona that Dad's losing his marbles and is about to get his ass kicked out of his late gal's home, she panics and calls the only person she can think of: her older brother Jon Savage, played by, you guessed it, Philip Seymour to the Hoffman.
Jon's in his early forties and holds a PhD in Bertolt Brecht or some shit. No, really, something like that. He teaches Brecht in Buffalo where he lives with his gal, a Polish immigrant who's about to be sent back to her home land because of a green card technicality. So he's sort of down in the dumps already when his kid sis calls. And to make matters hairier, he and Wendy haven't exactly been close, at least not since they were kiddies.
Anywho, so they go to Arizona and bring Dad back to a nursing home in Buffalo. Laura Linney, meanwhile, has to crash at her brother's pad, which is imploding with books he's compiled for researching his next scholarly publication or whatever. I won't spill all, but suffice
it to say that the whole experience renews the sibling bond between Wendy and Jon. Sounds pretty simple, I know, and it is. The enjoyment from this film doesn't come from the plot, but the characters, and by extension the actors. The trio at the fore here--Philip Seymour Hoffman, Laura Linney, and Philip Bosco--are impeccable in their roles. Mind you, these are actors who consistently deliver grand slam performances in everything they do. But if it's possible that they've outdone themselves yet again, they have.The film was written and directed by Philly native Tamara Jenkins. Her last feature was 1998's Slums of Beverly Hills, which supposedly was semi-autobiographical. It also featured a great cast that included Natasha Lyonne (in the Tamara Jenkins role, Vivian), the always awesome Alan Arkin, and Marisa Tomei. If you haven't seen Slums, toss it onto your Netflix queue, stat.
As I said above, the film was followed by a Q&A with Philip Seymour Hoffman. After the credits finished
rolling and the lights came up, the moderator came up to introduce our leading man. First, let me say that the moderator, an employee at this theater named Grant, is hilarious. He always introduces the films at the beginning of the night and also tells us about other programs in the coming days and weeks. Then, if the program includes a Q&A, he's usually the one to conduct it. At the front of the theater the floor is slightly raised. While the credits roll, theater workers bring up chairs for Grant and our celeb of the night as well as a one-sheet for the film, usually propped on an easel behind our distinguished guest.On this night, Philip Seymour Hoffman was dressed ultra casual. He had a T-shirt sort of affair under a black button sweater which was unbuttoned. His blond hair was sorta scruffy and his chubby cheeks sort of stubby, with a pair of round specs to top it off. His whole bearing wasn't too different from his character Jon Savage: An academic who was so devoted to his career that he was perpetually underslept and had no time for anything else, including his wardrobe.
As with all the Q&As, Grant gets things started with a few questions before opening up the floor for anyone from the audience to stand up and ask something. One of the questions he posed to Phil was about his prep work, both for this role specifically and for movies in general. Phil said that it differs from movie to movie. For The Savages, he didn't have to do too much preparation or getting into character because the familial conflicts in The Savages aren't too different from his real family. Unfortunately, he didn't elaborate much on that. Although he did say that his father called him after seeing the film and said something like, "This is so upsetting." But then again, Phil said, his father often calls him up and says that very same thing after a lot of his movies. Upon seeing his son play a megalomaniacal terrorist in Mission:Impossible III: "This is so upsetting." And so on. The most intense prep work he ever had to do was for Capote. It took him a good seven months or so of perfecting the voice and mannerisms and whatnot to play Truman.
As for The Savages, he went on to say that the toughest thing about making it was holding his
own against Laura Linney and Philip Bosco. As a theater student many years ago, he used to see Philip Bosco on Broadway, and it was intimidating for him to be working with him now. "They're both so smart," he said more than once about his costars. "They're both such smart actors. So smart."Someone from the audience asked if there were any directors, alive or dead, he wishes he could work with/could've worked with. He actually didn't have any names to give. First of all, if you're familiar with Phil's oeuvre, you already know that he's been pretty lucky with the directors he's worked with. He's got nothing to complain about, and he acknowledged that. Further, he said he didn't want to have to do any work if he didn't have to. Phil's all about the path of least resistance. For example, if he's at home watching TV, and some great old Hitchcock film or whatever comes on, he doesn't go, "Aw man, I wish I could've worked with Hitch." Instead, he says he always feels grateful he didn't have to do all that work and that he gets to sprawl on his couch and just enjoy the flick.
Someone asked him why he made Love Liza. The reason was simple: His olde
r brother Gordy wrote it. You ever see Love Liza? It came out in '02 or '03 or thereabouts. It was a small picture, one of those arthouse flicks that are here and gone while you blink. Maybe that's why the guy asked Phil why he made it, since he was already at a point in his career where he could've picked anything. I only saw it eventually courtesy of Netflix. It's decent, nothing earth shattering, but worth seeing once if for anything then the performances. I won't spoil the whole thing for you, but here's the gist of the plot. Phil plays a guy named Wilson. When the film starts, his wife Liza has just committed suicide. She's left a note. He refuses to read it and tries to get on with his life. 'Course, having Liza's mom around (played by the criminally underused Kathy Bates) sorta makes things awkward, as does Wilson's penchant for inhaling gas fumes. Phil made a point of saying that Love Liza wasn't inspired by real events. People had asked him that a lot, he said, and he just wanted to nip that in the bud right now.And then a very awkward moment came along, right toward the end. A young man from the audience got up and asked plenty loud enough for the packed house to hear: "So, do you think your acting's better now that you're sober?"
Dead silence. Grant the moderator gave the dude an evil eye, but Phil, bless 'im, took the question in perfect stride. He repeated the question to himself and finally said something like: "There've been plenty of actors who were drunk to their dying day, and their acting never suffered. So I couldn't tell you if my acting's better. I just don't know."
Grant allowed one more question after that. Someone toward the very front asked another director question. I think it was along the lines of, of the directors he has worked with so far, who was his favorite. He couldn't think of one and went on to say that he didn't really bother rating his directors. When you work on a film, you're around the same people for so long that there's bound to be some tension and disagreement now and again. No matter how much you like a director, it was inevitable. So he couldn't pick a favorite, just as it's not always easy to pick a favorite boss. A boss is a boss is a boss. He did make a point of reiterating that he felt lucky to have worked with the directors he's worked with. So while he couldn't pick a favorite, he had no complaints either.
