>Like the whole time, they were still these kids who didn't
>wanna have to do the "grown up" thing, so they wanted this
>process to be easy. But since death is the hardest thing in
>the world to deal with, it forced them to slowly come out and
>realize that they had to take control of their lives.

They led cluttered and messy lives . . . and you know what . . .when Linney mocks her play, in conversation with the nurse, she says she feared it would be perceived as "middle-class whining." I don't think it was that bad, but I just don't know if Jenkins ever produces any insight or anything of real interest from casting these two as such pathetic go-nowhere's. She's having an affair with a married man who brings his dog over when they have sex. His girlfriend's visa has expired w/out him batting an eye. So what? I never cared all that much. They're just moving pieces of set design to throw layer and layer of neuroses upon but never to become anything real. (And when they turn, when they begin to take control of their lives, Linney's play and Hoffman moving closer to his girlfriend = way too quick / tidy / convenient.)

>I totally understand the "haze of percocet" feel, because I
>think that was intentional. But I definitely felt that pulse
>underneath.
>
>What are your thoughts about the Payne comparison?

The whole dreary middle-aged comparison makes enough sense. I've only seen Payne's work in Election and Sideways and then his short in the Paris series. I can't really call myself a student or a fan though (cyncism is cheap, satire is overrated). (He also exec. produced King of California, which is apparently even more of a troublesome film.)

If I were to compare The Savages to any other movies, two other Laura Linney films first come to mind: You Can Count On Me and The Squid and The Whale.

The former presents another brother-sister relationship, but, aside from one slip-up in the story, doesn't go any sensationalistic or movie-route with it. It's a very natural, warm film, where the characters fuck up and succeed and love and fight, because that's what people do, not because a writer-director forces them to. As a result, I felt real heartbreak, relief, etc., and, again, I did so because the story compelled me to, not because the characters signaled me to.

Then, compared to The Savages, the characters in The Squid and The Whale are more drawn, but they're also infinitely better written, at least: more caustic, more awkward, more developed, more entertaining. There's even some genuine empathy (versus Jenkins' self-pity).

Lastly, I would mention The Wonder Boys. Though flawed by its narration and its cutesy ending, Wonder Boys however more successfully presents a cluttered, struggling, drug-addled literary type, much like the kind Linney and Hoffman play. It proves you can have the movie experience feel like a hazy drug trip without keeping the audience in a similar rut.