Knight at the Movies Archives
 | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  |
Another mixed up, murderous homo: Swoon director Tom Kalin returns, John Cusack's biting political satire scores a bullseye
16 years after out director Tom Kalin helped spur the new queer cinema movement with his 1992 film Swoon he’s finally released a
second feature. Like Swoon, which was based on the Leopold and Loeb murder case, Savage Grace, the new film, is based on a
notorious crime – the murder of heiress (by marriage) and social climber Barbara Daly Baekeland in 1972 by her schizophrenic,
homosexual son Tony who also just happened to be her sometime lover. Money, madness, incest, matricide, retro fashions – what
could be more cinematic than this?
Yet, though Kalin’s film doesn’t skimp on the lurid aspects of this creepy, jet setting, dysfunctional pair which makes for a hot
blooded good time, it omits crucial explanations for the characters’ aberrant behavior (Barbara apparently slept with her son to “cure”
him of his homosexuality, Tony had exhibited years of violent behavior before killing his mother, etc.). But even with these lapses,
Savage Grace is a doozy – a film with ice in its veins. The murderous gay lovers in Swoon have nothing on decadent, oedipal Barbara
and Tony.
The film begins with Tony’s birth in 1946. Barbara’s marriage to Brooks (Stephen Dillane), the Bakelite plastics heir is a roundelay
of social climbing, nightclubbing and various sexual partners – all of which she schedules with a tight smile. A world weary Brooks
says things like, “Barbara don’t be tedious” but goes along with her demands, rages and smothering of little Tony. The trio jet
around the European hot spots as the film jumps from 1959 when Barbara asks Tony, “Will you still love me when my hair is gray
and my tits are sagging?” to 1968 when the family arrives in Mallorca.
Here the now grown Tony (Eddie Redmayne) hangs out at the beach with his two comely friends, the luscious Blanca (Elena Anaya)
and his pot dealing lover Black Jake (Unax Ugalde). Tony brings Blanca home and she quickly understands it’s her task to deflower
Tony thus “fixing him” but she just as quickly sees that the real power and position lies with Brooks, who takes the bait. Exit Brooks
and Blanca, enter Sam (Hugh Dancy in a highly effective cameo), an effete aesthete who is soon sleeping first with Tony, then
Barbara and before you can say “ménage a trois,” both. But when Sam departs depression takes over and Barbara tries to kill
herself.
Tony now cares for his mother and in a scene where he applies ointment to her healing wrists as she lolls naked in a tub it’s
apparent that the relationship has become unnaturally intimate. We are meant to infer that the duo have become lovers but though
the movie hints at Tony’s descent into schizophrenia it’s not implicit until the last scene. This is the infamous afternoon in
November of 1972 when the two, now living in London, have sex (Kalin gives us Moore straddling Redmayne) followed by an
emotional outburst that ends when Tony stabs Barbara to death and then coolly orders Chinese takeout.
This last sequence is as uncomfortable as one would imagine but would have had more resonance if we cared even a smidgen for
the characters or understood that the behavior on Tony’s part had gone on for years. The performances are excellent with Moore,
one of the movies most fearless actors, as usual not hesitating to head emotionally for the deep end. Redmayne holds his own in
his underwritten part while Dillane is droll and appropriately insouciant as the distant father. A tantalizing hint in a locker room
sequence of repressed gay feelings on the part of the father is left unexplored as is much else in this chilly yet enthralling movie.
Readers of the book, also titled Savage Grace (an excellent read) will have the benefit of getting a fuller story though Kalin’s stylish
film might be more than enough time for most to spend with these disturbing folks.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
John Cusack’s new film, War, Inc. (which he co-wrote) is a great political satire – a Dr. Strangelove for the YouTube generation that
is bitter, funny and stuffed with telling details about how modern day warfare has merged with the interests of American
corporations. It’s a variation on Cusack’s little seen but deeply entertaining Grosse Point Blank. Like that film, Cusack plays a cynical
hit man (who takes shots of Tabasco sauce to control his emotions) suddenly having doubts about his choice of profession. Cusack
is assigned by Dan Akroyd as a former Vice President (read: Dick Cheney) to assassinate a key political figure in a mythic Middle
East country called Turaqistan (read: Iraq) who’s getting in the way of potential profits from the Tamerlane Corporation (read:
Halliburton) that’s running the country.
Cusack’s cover finds him as the head of trade show promoting American commerce. Expert support is offered by Cusack’s sister
Joan (she can make one laugh by raising an eyebrow), Marisa Tomei as an earnest, political journalist and love interest, Hilary Duff
playing Yonica Babyyeah, a trampy pop starlet (a spot on parody of her own former status), Ben Kingsley as Cusack’s southern
accented boss, and Montel Williams (no really) as the voice on the GPS tracking device – the only person Cusack feels comfortable
confiding in.
War, Inc. scores so many satirical bullseyes – the slutty pop song parody, the reporters seduced by a DisneyWorld-like 3-D simulator
ride offered instead of access to the real news, the product placement on the tanks and Humvees – that it nearly trips over its own
cleverness. The last quarter of the film, in fact, while emotionally satisfying is distinctly at odds with the rest of the acrid picture.
War, Inc. plays into every cynical suspicion held by liberals (and it should be noted, lots of non-liberals) about the war in Iraq and it
scores its bitter points while being deeply entertaining and funny as hell – a claim few of the recent spate of Mid East war themed
pictures can make.
second feature. Like Swoon, which was based on the Leopold and Loeb murder case, Savage Grace, the new film, is based on a
notorious crime – the murder of heiress (by marriage) and social climber Barbara Daly Baekeland in 1972 by her schizophrenic,
homosexual son Tony who also just happened to be her sometime lover. Money, madness, incest, matricide, retro fashions – what
could be more cinematic than this?
Yet, though Kalin’s film doesn’t skimp on the lurid aspects of this creepy, jet setting, dysfunctional pair which makes for a hot
blooded good time, it omits crucial explanations for the characters’ aberrant behavior (Barbara apparently slept with her son to “cure”
him of his homosexuality, Tony had exhibited years of violent behavior before killing his mother, etc.). But even with these lapses,
Savage Grace is a doozy – a film with ice in its veins. The murderous gay lovers in Swoon have nothing on decadent, oedipal Barbara
and Tony.
The film begins with Tony’s birth in 1946. Barbara’s marriage to Brooks (Stephen Dillane), the Bakelite plastics heir is a roundelay
of social climbing, nightclubbing and various sexual partners – all of which she schedules with a tight smile. A world weary Brooks
says things like, “Barbara don’t be tedious” but goes along with her demands, rages and smothering of little Tony. The trio jet
around the European hot spots as the film jumps from 1959 when Barbara asks Tony, “Will you still love me when my hair is gray
and my tits are sagging?” to 1968 when the family arrives in Mallorca.
Here the now grown Tony (Eddie Redmayne) hangs out at the beach with his two comely friends, the luscious Blanca (Elena Anaya)
and his pot dealing lover Black Jake (Unax Ugalde). Tony brings Blanca home and she quickly understands it’s her task to deflower
Tony thus “fixing him” but she just as quickly sees that the real power and position lies with Brooks, who takes the bait. Exit Brooks
and Blanca, enter Sam (Hugh Dancy in a highly effective cameo), an effete aesthete who is soon sleeping first with Tony, then
Barbara and before you can say “ménage a trois,” both. But when Sam departs depression takes over and Barbara tries to kill
herself.
Tony now cares for his mother and in a scene where he applies ointment to her healing wrists as she lolls naked in a tub it’s
apparent that the relationship has become unnaturally intimate. We are meant to infer that the duo have become lovers but though
the movie hints at Tony’s descent into schizophrenia it’s not implicit until the last scene. This is the infamous afternoon in
November of 1972 when the two, now living in London, have sex (Kalin gives us Moore straddling Redmayne) followed by an
emotional outburst that ends when Tony stabs Barbara to death and then coolly orders Chinese takeout.
This last sequence is as uncomfortable as one would imagine but would have had more resonance if we cared even a smidgen for
the characters or understood that the behavior on Tony’s part had gone on for years. The performances are excellent with Moore,
one of the movies most fearless actors, as usual not hesitating to head emotionally for the deep end. Redmayne holds his own in
his underwritten part while Dillane is droll and appropriately insouciant as the distant father. A tantalizing hint in a locker room
sequence of repressed gay feelings on the part of the father is left unexplored as is much else in this chilly yet enthralling movie.
Readers of the book, also titled Savage Grace (an excellent read) will have the benefit of getting a fuller story though Kalin’s stylish
film might be more than enough time for most to spend with these disturbing folks.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
John Cusack’s new film, War, Inc. (which he co-wrote) is a great political satire – a Dr. Strangelove for the YouTube generation that
is bitter, funny and stuffed with telling details about how modern day warfare has merged with the interests of American
corporations. It’s a variation on Cusack’s little seen but deeply entertaining Grosse Point Blank. Like that film, Cusack plays a cynical
hit man (who takes shots of Tabasco sauce to control his emotions) suddenly having doubts about his choice of profession. Cusack
is assigned by Dan Akroyd as a former Vice President (read: Dick Cheney) to assassinate a key political figure in a mythic Middle
East country called Turaqistan (read: Iraq) who’s getting in the way of potential profits from the Tamerlane Corporation (read:
Halliburton) that’s running the country.
Cusack’s cover finds him as the head of trade show promoting American commerce. Expert support is offered by Cusack’s sister
Joan (she can make one laugh by raising an eyebrow), Marisa Tomei as an earnest, political journalist and love interest, Hilary Duff
playing Yonica Babyyeah, a trampy pop starlet (a spot on parody of her own former status), Ben Kingsley as Cusack’s southern
accented boss, and Montel Williams (no really) as the voice on the GPS tracking device – the only person Cusack feels comfortable
confiding in.
War, Inc. scores so many satirical bullseyes – the slutty pop song parody, the reporters seduced by a DisneyWorld-like 3-D simulator
ride offered instead of access to the real news, the product placement on the tanks and Humvees – that it nearly trips over its own
cleverness. The last quarter of the film, in fact, while emotionally satisfying is distinctly at odds with the rest of the acrid picture.
War, Inc. plays into every cynical suspicion held by liberals (and it should be noted, lots of non-liberals) about the war in Iraq and it
scores its bitter points while being deeply entertaining and funny as hell – a claim few of the recent spate of Mid East war themed
pictures can make.
Ice & Fire:
Savage Grace-War, Inc.
Expanded Edition of 6-11-08 Windy City Times Knight at the Movies Column
By Richard Knight, Jr.
Savage Grace-War, Inc.
Expanded Edition of 6-11-08 Windy City Times Knight at the Movies Column
By Richard Knight, Jr.
