There’s a quote by the wonderful W.C. Fields that I absolutely adore, where he famously stated his belief that “a rich man is nothing but a poor man with money”, which is both a hilarious quip and a shockingly relevant observation. Wealth is a concept that seems easy to define at first, since it is relatively binary: either someone has enough assets (both physical and liquid) to live a completely comfortable life without any fear of losing anything, or they do not, in which case they tend to have to work harder to just make ends meet in many instances. Obviously this is all very much just textbook definitions, since much like anything in life, wealth is much more complicated. The tendency to consider anyone who lives in an enormous house, is surrounded by a gaggle of staff members willing to do their bidding, and who seem to be entirely detached from the plight of the working man has been the symbol of wealth for about as long as we’ve been sentient, but once we look a bit deeper, we tend to find that many of these supposedly rich people are teetering dangerously close on complete poverty, hiding behind a veneer of excess, since it is often easier to conceal these struggles than it is to actually address and rectify them. This is the underlying premise of Savage House, in which Peter Glanz (a relatively under-known director who I imagine will be taken far more seriously in the aftermath of this film) takes us back to England in the early 18th century, where we are introduced to Lord Chauncey Savage and his wife Lady Savage, who live in a lavish countryside estate envied by many. What the outside world does not know is that Chauncey was born a commoner, and has only been able to give off the illusion of wealth through marrying into a land-owning family, but gradually over the years found himself losing every bit of wealth he had been handed, both through poor financial decisions and a gambling addiction. When they receive word that some affluent members of the nobility are headed to their home to weather out some challenges being faced by many people in their class (namely the spread of smallpox and the ongoing Jacobite rebellion), the Savages have to scramble to turn their decaying house into a place where they can receive such esteemed guests, in the hopes of forming a deeper friendship that would elevate them out of the near-poverty that they were facing. Wickedly funny and extremely subversive, Savage House is a terrific satire that is as sardonic as it is unsettling, proving to be some of the best work of nearly everyone involved, and a tremendous calling card for the exceptionally gifted director at the helm.

Every period of time (regardless of where you look) is fascinating given the right focus, but there is something inherently interesting about the 19th century that feels like so much has been left unsaid, at least in terms of historical context. It was a strange time, since many consider it to contain the final vestiges of the proverbial “old world” that would soon be eradicated with the rise of the Industrial Revolution, and while technological developments were still a while away, there were intriguing social, political and cultural developments that have constantly drawn our attention to this era and its people. Savage House designs itself as a subversive satire that examines the fickle boundary between different members of the landed gentry, primarily those who achieved their wealth and status through inheritance or simply being born under the right circumstances, and those who occupy the nouveau riche category, their resourcefulness (or pure dumb luck) leading them to climb the social ladder. The focus here is not so much on an ambitious upstart trying to work his way through the system, but rather looks at someone who has managed to get there with relative ease, but now has to reckon with his own choices as he starts to see his power slipping away. As we often see, everyone is welcomed into the esteemed company of the upper class, granted they have some combination of wealth and power, which have always been the primary metrics our society has used to divide the population. However, the moment either the wealth or power slips away (although one doesn’t typically remain in the absence of the other, usually following closely), their social standing immediately erodes, exposing just how rotten the entire system is to the core. Presented as a starkly funny comedy-of-errors with very deep, complex observations on the nature of society and its tendency to eliminate those who don’t have anything to offer, Savage House more than earns its evocative title, being an in-depth exploration of how power can very quickly erode once someone has been deemed unfavourable, and setting it at one of the most uncomfortable and challenging moments in British history, namely the intersection between the smallpox pandemic (which resulted in roughly half a million deaths in the United Kingdom over the course of that century, accounting for approximately 10% of deaths in the country at the time) and the Jacobite uprising, both of which proved to be devastating – but in choosing to focus on the impact these had on the members of the high society, rather than those lower on the social ladder as is often more common in these stories, the film provides some shockingly daring commentary on a century that continues to bewilder an fascinate in equal measure.

Some actors are so incredibly versatile and magnetic on screen that watching them perform just about any material leaves an immediate, long-lasting impression. There are some days when I wholeheartedly believe that Richard E. Grant is one of the greatest living actors and someone who has been delivering stellar work for over forty years, never daring to turn down a challenge. On occasion, the master character actor is allowed to lead a film (which has become increasingly rare in recent years, as he’s usually seen in scene-stealing supporting parts), and reminds us that he is simply uncontested when it comes to his specific set of talents. The part of Lord Chauncey Savage is one that absolutely any actor would be thrilled to interpret, since the film is essentially a two-hour showcase for a performer who truly wants to let go of all his inhibitions and just embrace the absurdity that comes with the craft. However, the role did call for someone who wasn’t just looking for an excuse to parade in a powdered wig and beautifully decaying garments, but rather an actor who could play into the sadness that lingers at the heart of the film as well. While neither of the two main characters is particularly a good person in any way, we do feel some sympathy for them, especially for Chauncey – the film emphasises that his adamant desire to remain not only powerful, but also well-liked by his peers, stems from him being born a commoner, which he has spent his life desperately attempting to escape by any means necessary. Grant can play into the madness that consumes the character, while also finding value in the brief but memorable bursts of tenderness, including in the final act when the two collide into what becomes some of the best work the esteemed actor has done in his already illustrious career, reminding us of his brilliance. Claire Foy is a perfectly matched patsy for Grant, playing the more level-headed (but not any less deranged) Lady Savage, someone who also sees her handle on reality falling out of her grasp, but who manages to hide it far better than her husband, who expresses his own disdain for their situation far more openly. The pair are extraordinary together, playing off each other with a kind of chemistry that truly convinces us that this would be a legitimate couple (including their thirty-year age gap, which is intentionally woven into the narrative in subtle but effective ways) weathering a very unconventional storm together. The supporting cast, which includes a cavalcade of recognisable character actors, primarily Jack Farthing and Bel Powley as the film’s true villains, is also very strong when it comes to forming a foundation on which this film can build some fascinating observations, leading to quite an eclectic ensemble of very gifted actors enjoying this unforgettable sojourn into a grimier version of the past.

Armed with a strong premise and an ensemble of actors more than willing to realise his vision, Glanz was in a good position when it came to bringing Savage House to life on screen. It does help that the inception of the story –  which is based on an original idea from the director, who also wrote a screenplay that is filled to the brim with razor-sharp dialogue and some unforgettable socio-cultural and political observations – allowed for some degree of malleability in terms of tone and execution. Envisioning this film as anything other than an off-the-wall dark comedy seems impossible, since this is apparently the only way to effectively lampoon the past, by filtering it through the most darkly comedic lens imaginable. Choosing to lean into the humour is a terrific decision, since it underlines how absolutely absurd living conditions were during this period, allowing a more offbeat contradiction to the idea that the nobility lived in spotless luxury, rather than often having worse lifestyles than those who lived in poverty, solely because of how they could hide their unhygienic habits from the outside world, concealed behind the ornate walls and perfectly maintained gardens. There’s something so delightfully perverse about a film that acknowledges its intentions to be an intentionally grotesque, overly putrid depiction of an era that has all too often been sanitised, and in both the tonal elements and through the visual execution (credit must be given to the costuming and production design departments, since the aesthetic of this film is beyond impeccable), the 18th century comes to life in a way that we’ve rarely seen before. Much like Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Favourite, there is merit in being willing to push the boundaries of decency when exploring this period, particularly when it comes to underlining just how unhygienic and revolting everything was, and Glanz is absolutely onboard with the idea of creating something that makes the viewer retch just as much as they laugh – and there’s several moments in Savage House where both occur simultaneously, which is all part of the brilliance that comes when we’re witnessing a director who has no qualms in creating something quite macabre, inviting the audience to sit in that discomfort, finding both entertainment value and a deeper message lingering beneath the surface of a genuinely strange curio of a film. 

Savage House is a fascinating piece of filmmaking, and proves that there is always something new to be said about the past, even if there’s a tendency to think every story set in previous centuries has been told already, a foolish belief that this film helps dispel quite definitively. It can sometimes be a bit too grotesque at times, and it’s not surprising that several viewers have noted that the film made them physically gag at times, which seems to be entirely by design. However, there is always a method to the madness, and this film underlines the exact quality that keeps us coming back to these stories. It plays like a more comedic version of Barry Lyndon, especially in the sense that both are stories about social climbers in 18th-century England looking to assert their influence by any means necessary, drawing on a lot of the same conventions to the extent where there is a potential reading of this film as a spiritual successor to Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece. However, Savage House is still very much its own wonderful work, and it frequently dares to push and provoke in ways that are nothing if not wholeheartedly surprising – whether it is commenting on the traditions of this particular era, specifically the etiquette and social structure, or quietly drawing correlations between this period and the current one, which is unexpectedly quite potent, especially in how the director makes certain allusions that connect the two periods. It is very much anchored by the actors, with Grant in particular delivering one of the year’s most fearless, haunting performances – only someone as self-assured in his craft and willing to push himself to the limits of his sanity could find so much humanity in a character who is otherwise a cartoonish caricature, and it proves that he is quite simply one of our greatest living performers. There’s something so incredibly captivating about this film and how it dares to explore certain ideas that may be considered somewhat taboo (albeit remaining within the realm of decency), creating a version of the past that is inarguably more hideous, harrowing and uncomfortable than the sanitised versions that tend to populate the usual run-of-the-mill period films. Far more than just a lavish costume drama, Savage House is a brilliantly subversive, unconventional work that establishes Glanz as someone to watch, especially since his debut (the negatively-received and mostly forgotten The Longest Week) was not the best introduction to his talents. A wonderfully strange but captivating dark comedy, Savage House is a delight, and earns every bit of our admiration and affection, even if it can sometimes be far too nauseating to truly embrace, which seems to be the entire point.