The ensemble is an embarrassment of early-1990s independent cinema riches, and the character names are amazing, enough vowels and syllables to fill Mulberry St. How hard did Savoca strive for authenticity? She hired, according to the end credits, a “Sausage Consultant” (Luca Paris). The plot (based on Francine Prose’s novel) takes shape during a pinochle game, when Lino Falconetti (Victor Argo) loses to Joseph Santangelo (Vincent D’Onofrio), and the payout is Catherine Falconetti (Tracy Ullman), Lino’s only daughter. Catherine marries Joseph and moves in with him and his mother Carmela (Judith Malina), the unquestioned matriarch – and best cook – of the house. The tension between those three exemplifies the film’s mood, balancing snark and forgiveness, begrudging love and short-lived resentment. Savoca’s gift is to linger on the moments that define these characters – Catherine buying sausage, Joseph’s finger on the scale – and dance past (but never ignore) life’s major and inevitable miseries.
Falconetti gets religion (and Villanova)
The ultimate bummer – death – makes two key appearances, and in the first instant, it’s Carmela who’s felled. Catherine finds her unmoving in the kitchen, brings Joseph to see with his own eyes, and he says “This isn’t the miracle you were hoping for.” No, but that’s growing in her belly, and soon Catherine gives birth to Teresa who is charmed at a young age by the teachings of the church. Young Teresa (played by Rachael Bella) blossoms into a high-school student (Lili Taylor, never better, somehow believable as a 14-year old) who’s ultimate goal is to join the convent. That route swerves due to both her father’s objection and the intercedings of the smarmy, charming young law student -great name alert – Leonard Villanova (Michael Imperioli), who courts her and eventually proposes marriage.
Still, Teresa couldn’t quite let go of the dream that she held since she was a little girl, and the tragedy of her early death is blunted somewhat when her father Joseph says that he smells flowers, which, according to the Catholic church, signifies a miracle. Savoca’s sympathetic storytelling doesn’t mock Teresa’s devout faith – even at a young age – and that’s a consistent thread throughout the film. When Nicky Falconetti (Michael Rispoli) wagers his opera ticket at the pinochle table, Lino and Joseph dismiss his enthusiasm, an early and ominous depiction of what narrow expectations can do to a person seeking independence. Nicky kills himself with a knife to the stomach, in a nod to his beloved Madame Butterfly. Hardly a happy ending, but one Savoca presents as necessary, paying tribute to his own house of worship, that preferred religion to which he gives his soul and body.
Vincent D’Onofrio in “Household Saints” (Photo: New York Film Festival 2023).
‘The best film hardly anybody saw…’
Losing a film is easier than finding it, and that’s on my mind after the shutdown of Netflix’s DVD delivery business, purveyor of so many rare, un-streamable gems. Before the advent of DVDs, Savoca’s film was lost, unavailable on streaming services despite its contagious charm, accolades (nominated for three Independent Spirit Awards, winning one – Taylor for Best Supporting Actress) and critical praise (Roger Ebert gave it four stars, New York Times named it the “Best Movie Hardly Anybody Saw”). Now it has been given new life thanks to Savoca and Guay, who partnered with Milestone Films to reintroduce “Household Saints” to the world. And it’s more than a slice-of-life or a family portrait: it’s a time capsule, spanning the generations on screen, through the off-screen era it was released, right to today, when it stands proud and undiminished among modern peers. And its close-up is long overdue.
“Household Saints” is currently playing at the New York Film Festival. The festival goes from September 29th – October 15th. Join us for continual coverage.
