Director Report Card: Steven Spielberg (1973)

4. Savage

Before finally making his leap to theatrical films, Steven Spielberg would direct one more television film. The project was called “Savage" and aired on NBC on March 31st, 1973. The script was by William Link and Richard Levinson, the same team that created "Columbo." After successfully working with Spielberg on that show, it's not hard to figure out why they collaborated with him again on this project. Running only 73 minutes long, it was obviously intended as a pilot movie for an ongoing series. The success Link and Levinson had with "Mannix" and "Columbo" in the past, and would have again in the future with "Murder, She Wrote," was not repeated here. "Savage" wouldn't be picked up by the network and survives only as a single standalone film. 

That is basically where the story begins and ends. "Duel" went on to a lengthy afterlife and is now regarded as a classic. "Something Evil," at least, has some minor notoriety as a campy TV movie directed by a great filmmaker early in his career. "Savage," on the other hand, quickly sank into total obscurity. As a failed pilot, it's rarely been re-aired. A home video or digital release has never followed and even bootlegs are uncommon. Honestly, this is one of those titles I figured I would have to exclude from my retrospective, owing to its general unavailability. However, the much-missed Trio network once aired the movie as part of its beloved Brilliant But Canceled series. Recordings of that showing still circulate online and one is currently up on YouTube. (This print is where the sole screenshot on Wikipedia is taken from, suggesting it might be the only available copy of the film.) That gave me a chance to see what is probably the most overlooked entry in Spielberg's career. 

The film follows TV reporter Paul Savage, who is considered a paragon of journalistic integrity. His show, The Savage Hour, frequently breaks important news and is considered important television. After a typically tense live broadcast, a young woman named Lee Howard comes to Paul. She has pictures of herself with recently appointed Supreme Court Justice Daniel Stern and believes her life is in danger. The next morning, Lee is found dead, having seemingly committed suicide by leaping from her apartment window. Savage, smelling a cover-up, investigates alongside his partner and producer, Gail Abbott. 

"Savage" falls squarely into a television phenomenon that is nearly as old as the medium itself and lives on into the modern day. That would be the Last Name Detective Show. The protagonists of these shows are not always literally detectives, private investigators, or cops. Sometimes they are lawyers, con men, or authors but they always unravel a new mystery every week. Obviously, the title of the shows are simply the last names of the hero. Bonus points are awarded if the last name is a catchy word with another meaning, like with "Cannon," "Hunter," "Monk," "Wolf," or "Hawk." This format was especially popular in the seventies, with shows like "Kojak" and "Ironside" being iconic. Link and Levinson obviously followed that formula with "Savage" but, clearly, audiences were simply not hooked this time.

Considering "Savage's" obscurity, I can only speculate on why it didn't go to series. Perhaps this was a failed attempt to ride the coattails of then-recent events. The show, after all, debuted less than a year after the Watergate scandal. Bernstein and Woodward probably made the idea of a heroic muckraking journalist, uncovering corruption within the government, very timely indeed. Yet, then as it does now, the TV mystery genre tends to be most popular among older, more conservative watchers. You can see this weird push-and-pull within "Savage" itself, as the Court Justice is ultimately mostly innocent of the story's central crime. Maybe "Savage" was a wishy-washy, noncommittal attempt to appeal to both demographics: Those that saw Woodward and Bernstein as national heroes and those that saw them as traitors. Or maybe it was just too soon to capitalize on those events. Or, perhaps, none of this was a factor at all. 

Whatever the reason "Savage" was doomed to be only a single film and a footnote in its director's career, one thing is for certain: Spielberg directs the hell out of it. The second scene is especially well done. The behind-the-scenes team of Savage's show rush about to prepare a live broadcast, while he's late to arrive. The expertly edited sequence cuts between images broadcast on monitors, as producers talk into headsets and people walk through the set. Handheld camera work and the quick cuts, between various close-ups, immediately create the feeling of panic as a show is three minutes to showtime with its star nowhere in sight. Paul is literally behind his desk a few seconds before the broadcast starts. There's no music in this sequence at all, until Savage's in-universe theme song begins playing. When combined with the handheld camera work and tight cutting, creates a documentary-like feeling. It's an opening that makes a real impression on the audience. 

This scene is the establishing moment for Spielberg's visual approach to the entire movie. He often frames in wide shots, characters moving off in the distance as the camera watches from behind a staircase or something similar. While the movie does have a score, there are many long stretches without any music at all. There's a stillness and intimacy to many of the movie's scenes. This furthers the documentary-like approach, which is certainly appropriate for a movie set in the world of journalism. Unfortunately, it also makes “Savage” very slowly paced and feels quite dry in many instances. 

As much as its young director attempted to spruce “Savage” up with some interesting visual choices, “Savage” ultimately does not break any new ground. This is very much a product of seventies television, fitting comfortably within the boundaries of its subgenre. This is a standard mystery. Savage and his partner chase leads, encountering red herrings and dead-ends along the way. Eventually, there's a twist in the narrative as the actual culprit is revealed. While there's nothing wrong with this structure, “Savage” is not an especially compelling mystery. We know who the bad guy is from the moment he appears on-screen. This isn't “Columbo,” where watching the detective figure out whodunit is part of the fun.

Aside from Spielberg's involvement, “Savage” is probably most notable to TV historians for starring Martin Landau. If “Savage” had gone to series, it would've been Landau's first regular gig following three seasons on “Mission: Impossible.” (Though he did do a guest spot on “Get Smart” and a TV movie about PTSD in-between them.) Landau was a wonderful performer but most of his charms seem restrained in the role of Paul Savage. He's a serious man, always in look of an answer. He has occasional moments of humor with his co-workers but mostly strikes the viewer as a rather boringly practical hero. It's hard to imagine a character this droll generating new stories every week.

Landau is not the only link to “Mission: Impossible” here. His co-star on that show, and real life wife, Barbara Bain also appears here. She plays Gail Abbott, the frequently frustrated producer on Paul's show and his partner in investigations. Unsurprisingly, the warmest and most charming moments Landau has in “Savage” are those he shares with Bain. I also like Michele Carey as the young woman who becomes the next target of the story's conspiracy. Carey projects an easy-going sensuality that is well suited to a role like this, allowing her character to come off as both sexy and innocent. Her scenes are probably “Savage's” liveliest moments.

One of the strangest story choices in “Savage” is to make the Supreme Court Justice more-or-less innocent of any crime, which seems to go against the anti-corruption message you'd expect the movie to have. Barry Sullivan – in the third time Spielberg directed him, following “Night Gallery” and his episode of “The Name of the Game” – plays the justice as a kind, doddering old man in over his head. Instead, the story's villain is Will Greer as Ryker, a rich old man who seemingly organizes parties where men in power can meet with young girls. Greer strikes a decent balance between being glad-handing and generous while never concealing his sinister undercurrents. 

If nothing else, it is interesting that “Savage” is a film partially about making a TV show made by a crew very experienced in making TV shows. The behind-the-scenes drama on The Savage Hour seems more compelling to me than the routine mystery. I can't help but notice the attention Spielberg pays to cameras and monitors all throughout the film, suggesting a half-formed theme of sorts about watching and being watched. It never comes together into anything coherent but the story's climax, where the bad guy is caught in the darkened studio, is probably the closest “Savage” gets to combining its ideas of the world of political corruption and TV journalism.

Spielberg is also credited as an editor on “Savage.” This is interesting because at least one source says that the other credited editor, Edward M. Abroms, directed a day on the movie after Spielberg fell sick. While it's interested to see “Savage,” an obscure and often overlooked chapter in the careers of its cast and crew, I'm glad I didn't spend a long time trying to find a copy. It's a fairly mediocre and forgettable motion picture. Worst pilots spawned successful shows but it's also easy to see why audiences were not drawn to “Savage” too much. The script is both routine and unfocused. It never quite gets the viewer invested in its characters or narrative. Perhaps a Last Name Detective Show about a hot-shot TV reporter was just never going to work. Nevertheless, I am glad “Savage” can be seen by Spielberg completest, at least for the time being. [Grade: C]