#47: Savannah Smiles (1982) (dir. Pierre De Moro)
Once again, not an objectively "great" movie, but to a 7-year-old kid who had just moved away from friends, something about this one hit home back then. Now as an adult, there are new reasons to cry.
You’d think I would’ve sat down to write about Dazed & Confused for 04/20 but alas. Let’s talk about crying for a bit. When I was a kid, I always felt like I cried more than most. My dad once bought me a gray stuffed Pound Purry named Katy before he was leaving for a work trip, and I just started crying tears of joy. Mind you, this was a stuffed animal, not a real one. He actually found it to be sweet and amusing that I would be that emotional over what was essentially a toy at the age of 8 or 9, but I think my love of cats went to an extreme and some may argue that it still does. I meow more than most cats.
Now let’s talk about crying and art. Music certainly has that effect on most and movies certainly aim to often tug at the heartstrings. I also get a lot of goosebumps listening to my playlist of all-time favorite songs. There are even songs that I’ve written with instrumental snippets that consistently make me well up too. Movies are something else entirely. I will write a lot about movies that connect strongly to me on an emotional level. I’ve been known to cry a lot especially as I’m getting older.
Though I know E.T’s ending made me cry to the point of feeling ill and even seeing Big Bird sing a sad song as the bluebird of unhappiness in Follow That Bird, I am convinced that my initial attachment to cinema began with a little-seen film called Savannah Smiles. I am certain I saw it at the age of 7, the same year as Back To The Future. But I didn’t relate to a time traveler. I related to this little girl named Savannah.
Out of the 500 people I follow on Letterboxd, looks like only 6 have seen it and most are very much in the middle. That makes complete sense. Once again, I’m not writing about the “greatest films ever made,” I’m writing about the favorites that mean a lot to me. The film critic in me understands - it’s sentimental, manipulative, silly and perhaps not the best script in the world. It’s not well-directed and despite its cult following, I think you had to be in my age range to have come across this on cable back in the day. It won me over back then, it still wins me over now.
Not edgy enough to attract a studio and perhaps just a little too risky to appeal to ticket buyers acclimated to Walt Disney’s instantly identifiable kiddie comedies, Miller’s self-financed feature (which was named after his daughter and muse), plays like a saccharine blend of Smokey and the Bandit, Paper Moon, and The Kid. A fairy tale by way of the Three Stooges, though largely predictable and plot-free, the film’s winning original songs from Ken Sutherland coupled with Miller and Donovan Scott’s gamely performances as the accidental kidnappers turned temporary surrogate parents of adorable Bridgette Andersen’s eponymous lead keep us watching by the time the film wins you over in its heart-tugging final scenes. - Jen Johans, Film Intuition
I had taped it off of HBO in EP mode on a VHS tape and watched it over and over again. Watching it as an adult, I still know every scene, line for line, beat for beat. I still cried hard towards the end, but now, for different reasons. The question I am posing to myself while writing this piece for my Substack: why? What was it about Savannah Smiles that grabbed hold of this sensitive wide-eyed boy who longed to connect to the outside world in a meaningful way? I’ll get to that later because it’s important to talk about the actual film.
The film is the brainchild of writer, producer, and star Mark Miller, who has a sort of James Garner vibe and based the girl on his own daughter Savannah. Mark Miller was not someone I was too familiar with, obviously, as a young child. Much to my surprise he is the father of Penelope Ann Miller, an actress whose career I am far more familiar with. Not to mention the fact that Papa Miller also co-wrote the romantic Keanu Reeves drama, A Walk in the Clouds. But he wrote this movie with the intent that it would star his own daughter. That didn’t work out, so they held auditions of nearly 150 girls, only to come across someone new by the name of Bridgette Andersen.
A sensitive, precocious little girl named Savannah (Andersen), whose self-involved parents ignore her amid their political aspirations, gets the idea to run away from home after watching a Little Rascals rerun. Of course she is raised on TV. She happens upon two fugitive convicts named Alvie (Mark Miller) and Boots (Donovan Scott), who are so staggeringly incompetent you wonder how they escaped in the first place. And why did Alvie, only days from a certain parole, jeopardize it by risking an escape? So now everybody’s on the run including little Savannah who hops in the back seat of their car.
Savannah’s father, presuming that she has been abducted, turns his attention from his U.S. Senate candidacy long enough to establish a $100,000 reward for her return. Later, he comes across the note she left when she ran away but fearing it will hurt his chances of getting elected, he orders that it be covered up. “It would only complicate things at this point,” he tells the nanny who found it. When Alvie and Boots learn there’s a six-figure reward for Savannah’s return, they try to claim it. But there are two overriding concerns: they’re fugitives and the little girl has attached herself to their hearts. She gets more attention from them than she does from her mom and dad. Bootsie—as Savannah affectionately calls one of the convicts—even got her a puppy. (A lot of ice cream is consumed in this movie too).
It’s strange watching this an adult and transporting back to a time when I had no conception of Savannah’s situation as being dangerous. I immediately thought of both Alvie and Boots as being two people I would enjoy the company of. Perhaps that’s why I went back to this story over and over again. It really wasn’t until my aunt got me a bootleg VHS of Ghostbusters and Cloak & Dagger a year later that I would eventually watch something besides this.
Nostalgia has become an ugly word in some respects. Watching this film, recognizing this story as fairly implausible, devoid of creepiness in ways we’d come to associate when children befriend adults, I definitely couldn’t help but experience a lot of nostalgia for simpler times. There was no Plex server, there weren’t any movie podcasts or Internet. I found a movie, claimed it and basically made a ritual out of going back to it. Or I had to choose something from a narrow selection at the video store. This may have been my first example of “discovering” something that felt like my own. Certainly, my parents weren’t excited about it.
As a kid, I wasn’t criticizing the freeze-frames, the cheesy songs, the acting by the parents or the wacky score especially when they attempt to hold up a convenience store. The only thing I can remember is thinking that Savannah reminded me of my next-door neighbor Nancy (my first crush and kiss). But also, Savannah was sad. That’s why she ran away. I know I was sad. The idea of running away terrified me though but there were fantasies of hopping aboard a freight train and seeing where it would take me (stories where characters do that also strike a chord).
This story works on every single level. Written by Mark Miller (father of actress Penelope Ann Miller), who plays Alvie, it is less about Savannah and more about Alvie, who, after a lifetime of neglect himself, finally learns to love, thanks to Savannah. His hysterically funny, adversarial relationship with Bootsie, who is definitely not the smarter one of the two, is touching as well. Even the musical montage that features the three main characters spending a day in the country together is beautiful. Most of the time, scenes like this are sappy beyond belief, but in Savannah Smiles, it comes across as real and touching. What is great about this movie is that none of the characters are perfect. The two "heroes" are felons, yet they have a soft side. Savannah is a sweet girl, but she knows how to throw a temper tantrum. These characteristics give the film a realism rarely seen in current family fare. - Lacey Worrell, DVDTalk
I had no conception of depression or anxiety as a kid, but I sure had both. I rarely threw tantrums, but I recoiled and hid away. I found solace through creativity of course, mostly in solitude. I was never eager to play outside with kids my own age, but instead, escape the world by reading or watching movies or playing my dad’s records. In a way, I think I longed for a close friendship with Savannah the way she longed for a connection, finding it with two convicts that just happened to actually listen to her, care for her and give her the attention she deserves. I definitely had friends and eventually a best friend named Sean (he’ll come up again) but Savannah felt like someone I would want to talk to. Obviously, that wasn’t possible but perhaps this movie was akin to hanging out with her anyway.
What’s truly tragic is learning of what became of young Bridgette Andersen. I certainly knew before sitting down to write this, thanks to a piece in Dark Sparkler by Amber Tamblyn. I probably heard about it before reading that too. Andersen had a lot of trouble finding work as a teenager. She had gone down similar territory as Drew Barrymore, becoming an addict at a very young age. (Oddly enough, one of the actresses that auditioned for the role of Savannah was Barrymore). Another unexpected connection: one of the first shows I loved as a kid was Family Ties (which I published an essay about in the book Tonight, On A Very Special Episode) and she guest stars here in this clip below.
“During her teen years, she struggled with an addiction to heroin, and at the time of her death, was attempting to stay clean while working at Erewhon Health Food Store in Los Angeles, California. On May 18, 1997, Andersen died of an accidental overdose of alcohol and drugs. She was 21 years old. On May 25, 1997, funeral services were held at Malibu United Methodist Church and Andersen's ashes were scattered at Zuma Beach in Malibu, California.”
I know this happens a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if she experienced mental health issues and trauma which led to dependency on substances. Young children aren’t prepared for success, auditions, rejection, familial strife. There’s just something that hits me on a deeper level when someone I grew up watching, even if it was just in one film, passing away so tragically young and to addiction. I certainly have had my struggles, but they probably paled in comparison to what poor Bridgette or any number of young stars, whether they experience fame and recognition or not. She at least received a lot of acclaim for her work as Savannah. Her audition scene: this memorable moment that she improvised entirely on her own. Just told the story from her perspective and sold everyone in the room.
Here’s where I get really emotional: towards the end of this film, albeit a manipulative score enhances the departure between Savannah, Alvie and Boots. When I was a child, I cried so hard at the thought of this friendship breaking apart. I became so invested in these three people that I wanted them to stay together, though obviously, Savannah had to go back with her neglectful rich parents. Watching it an adult, I still cried but this time for a different reason: I no longer see Savannah waving goodbye outside the window of the car, I see Bridgette Andersen waving goodbye to the world.
I know that’s not the reality of that moment but it’s what I feel now. I’m not saying Bridgette would’ve gone on to become the next Jodie Foster, but it’s possible she could’ve gotten sober and found more roles in the future. That was not meant to be though. So, there’s this layered connection to the story of Savannah Smiles now. There’s the 7-year-old that wanted to find a friend or at least cure her of her loneliness and isolation. Now there’s the 45-year-old that not only remembers what that feeling was like, but also realizing that the actress playing Savannah did leave us way too soon. Mark Miller lived until he was 92. Donovan Scott is still with us.
I have to reiterate this: Savannah Smiles, if you seek it out, will likely not become a favorite if you’re watching it for the first time as an adult. You’ll think of it as a cheesy Disney knockoff and not think twice about it. It’s routine overall, certainly rudimentary and safe. Savannah Smiles fits the mold of an NBC Saturday Night Movie. I wish I could say it was timeless and universal or has the wallop of something like Clint Eastwood’s A Perfect World. It was just the right film at the right time for me. I can’t separate personal experience when it comes to writing about the things I love of course. I know a lot of film writers can just look at the film, focus on its merits and flaws, deconstruct it on an academic level. What I tend to remember after the movie is over: what I feel. Even if I’m often all over the map, I will be sincere and honest regardless.
The sensitive child has become a sensitive adult (more or less). When Savannah gets that puppy, I feel like I’ve just gotten a kitten (stuffed or alive). I’m happy for her. I’m also happy Bridgette likely had a great time making this movie. Everyone involved sure seemed to. I just wish the whole story of Savannah had a happier ending. That wave goodbye will always bring a tear to my eye. Even though I never met Savannah (or Bridgette), I wish I could have expressed to her how much this movie made me feel less alone as a child.
But I’m sure so many others who were blessed to discover this like I did at an impressionable age, had a chance to tell her what this movie meant. This will forever be a special film for that reason alone. I’m probably wrong since memory is often faulty, but this could be the first film that made me cry… hard. And despite being aware of its flaws now, it still does. I have a feeling that fans of this sweet, endearing little film will continue keeping her spirit alive by revisiting it and remembering her fondly the way I do.