A tribe of primitive "mudpeople" encounter a croquet ball, rolling through their forest. Following it, they find themselves on a vast, deserted Long Island estate. Entering, they begin to become civilized and assume the stereotypical roles and dress of people at a weekend party. There follows an allegory of upper-class behavior. At last, they begin to devolve toward their original status, and after a battle at croquet, they disappear into the woods.
Reviews
Director James Ivory's worst film, an absurd allegory which hopes to juxtapose the different (and yet oh-so-similar) worlds of a primitive culture of half-naked forest savages and a decadent group of sexually-ambiguous high society turnips of the 1920s. The screenplay by George Swift Trow and (of all people) Michael O'Donoghue, from Ivory's story, gives us stock characterizations without any personalities of interest, and the amateurish look of the film--part "Cold Comfort Farm", part D.W. Griffith--is confounding and ridiculous. Social satire needs more than just 'uncommon' common ground, it needs spirit and a dash of wit. Ivory clumps through this menagerie with very little grace or humor, however he is helped by Joe Raposo's (suitably) bizarre music. A curio, nothing more. * from ****
Blimey. Well, I saw this years ago, and it's just one of those things that stays with you. Why? Well, here's why: Pythonesque premise meets Merchant-Ivory production values and stylings; weird silent-movie captions; weirdly (and very British) perversity; fresh-as-cress approach and general feeling of a bunch of hugely talented students having a right old lark; mud-caked savages who are, of course, nothing of the sort when you hold them up to typical toff behaviour in civilised society. Like David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, you don't want to be watching this (as I was) when you're at home with 'flu: it does tend to make you think you're iller than you are, and maybe hallucinated something weird happening on TV. Altogether brilliant. A one-off.
Arguably one of the most bizarre films Merchant-Ivory ever produced, "Savages" is definitely a product of its times (the late '60s/early '70s), yet it still holds certain charms. James Ivory may have come up with the original idea, but it's screenwriters Michael O'Donoghue and George Swift Trow who made the most of the concept, offering up examples of all types of physical and verbal savagery.The film's a little slow at the start -- after the opening credits it runs like a silent black and white film (with title cards and everything) for some time -- but stick around long enough and it becomes sepia-toned and finally full color as the Mud People take on the outward appearances of high society while still retaining their primitive identities.Recommended for fans of O'Donoghue's acid wit and anyone who isn't afraid of satire.
The plot summary provided does a good job of describing "Savages," a film I rented at a Kwikshop in the late 1980s. Co-written by Michael O'Donoghue (of early SNL writing fame), this movie ranks near the top of my "Weird Films" list. Explanatory narration was, I believe, in German, which of course limited the effectiveness of the explanations. The decadence of the Long Islanders was truly kinky, and shades of "The Gods Must Be Crazy" are evident in the croquet ball (nee soda bottle).How stunning to see the cast list and recognize not only Sam Waterston but also Martin Kove ("Cagney & Lacey," "The Karate Kid") and Salome Jens ("Sisters," "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine") among the credits.It's worth a view for the bizarrity alone. Add the delicious pleasure of seeing currently working (and in some cases successful) actors in this odd film, and you have the makings of a twisted conversation piece.Nutshell: Watch it in a darkened room with off-the-wall company and come away with a somewhat surreal residual buzz.