by Allan Fish
(USA 1975 161m) DVD1
We must be doing something right to last 200 years
p Robert Altman d Robert Altman w Joan Tewkesbury ph Paul Lohmann ed Sidney Levin, Dennis M.Hill md Richard Baskin art uncredited
Geraldine Chaplin (Opal), David Arkin (Norman Chauffeur), Barbara Baxley (Lady Pearl), Ned Beatty (Delbert Reese), Karen Black (Connie White), Keith Carradine (Tom Frank), Henry Gibson (Haven Hamilton), Keenan Wynn (Mr Green), Lily Tomlin (Linnea Reese), Ronée Blakely (Barbara Jean), Shelley Duvall (L.A.Joan), Allen Garfield (Barnett), Jeff Goldblum (tricycle man), Barbara Harris (Albuquerque), Michael Murphy (John Triplette), Gwen Welles (Sueleen Gay), Scott Glenn (Pte.Glenn Kelly), Christina Raines (Mary), Elliott Gould (himself), Julie Christie (herself),
So goes the opening song sung by egotistical Henry Gibson in Altman’s multi-layered mosaic of seventies America and it’s amazing how many critics have pointed that phrase out as key to the film’s understanding. Produced just in time for the American bicentennial it’s certainly apt in that way, but the very idea of longevity breeding right is not only pretentious but naïve (after all, how right would that make China, Egypt and Rome?). However, his story, which is roughly based on the idea of a concert held in support of a presidential political rally ending in tragedy, is the merest framework for its twenty plus characters to weave their individual tales.
Is Altman’s film patriotic? In some ways, yes, in that the characters are patriotic, but in many ways Altman’s film acts as an antidote to patriotism. Indeed, the campaign loudspeakers bellow out messages against the national anthem; “nobody knows the words, nobody can sing it, nobody can understand it.” Fresh from Vietnam, there are underlying essences of the mindset of many Americans in the script, personified in the young man who carries round a suspicious looking black case who eventually assassinates the star singer. Mr Nashville himself, Henry Gibson, can only declare that this is Nashville, show them what they’re made of. However, he hasn’t realised that his toupee has come off and he’s naked without it. Just as Altman’s film has peered back the phoney layers to expose the reality underneath (personified in the simple story of Keenan Wynn visiting his wife in hospital and his niece not really giving a damn), the shooting does the same in one full swoop. Its phoney veneer may remind some of another American critique released the same year, Michael Ritchie’s Smile, which performed its autopsy on young Miss America contests and, when Karen Black is welcomed on stage by Henry Gibson, he declares “isn’t she lovely, isn’t she beautiful.” One half expects Annette O’Toole to walk on stage in her knickers with days of the week on them.
Altman’s similar kaleidoscopic multi-charactered dissections of divers societies range from the memorable (Short Cuts, Gosford Park) to the frankly dull (A Wedding and Prêt-à-Porter), yet to try and understand Altman’s works in one sitting is like trying to take in the Sistine Ceiling in one viewing and there’s often more truth in the little barely audible snippets on the edge of the mise-en-scène than in the main conversations. The characters are superbly drawn and, though Gibson, Black, Blakely and Carradine as the locals are incredibly vain and pretentious, ditto the idea that movie stars are eccentric communists and only Nashvillians are normal (yet when Elliott Gould and Julie Christie pop up as themselves they seem the only sane ones around), in terms of sheer pretence, Chaplin tops them as Opal from the BBC. Surely one of the most intrusive, tasteless, tactless and frankly irritating women in movie history, whether comparing a car junk yard to an elephant cemetery or bemoaning the yellow school buses, “so many yellow dragons watching me with their hollow vacant eyes.” Chuck in Gwen Welles as the latest escapee from the Nashville Rest Home for the Terminally Talentless and a heartrending performance from Keenan Wynn and you have one of the great ensembles in movie history. Altman’s masterpiece may be pretentious and on the verge of boring in places, but this is a mirror held up to life and amongst the longeurs there are many gems to make it worthwhile.
Interesting take on the movie, one which you don’t seem to be especially enamored of! I like it, but it isn’t one of my favorites, really, though as do you, I recognize its importance.
The film, as all Altman films, definitely has several aspects to it – and a definite misanthropy exists alongside an affection for the characters and a humanism in their portrayal. Cynic that you are, Allan, you seem to have effectively zeroed in on the first element, and ignored the second! But they’re both there, and for me at least, the film’s more interesting than it would be otherwise thanks to the latter. Nonetheless, it’s a strength of Altman’s films that we can take what we want, or take it all, or focus on one element to our hearts content. He certainly did have a rich aesthetic in that regard…
Just to clarify, “not one of my favorites” sounds a bit harsh – essentially I own the movie and thoroughly enjoy it – just that when ranking personal favorites, it’s usually not in my pantheon – you’re more likely to find McCabe & Mrs. Miller or 3 Women there. But it’s an excellent picture and one well-deserving all the praise it’s received.
Wonderful observations on this highly significant film, Allan. I love the irony that Gould and Christie playing themselves, movie stars, are the only sane people around. He always got so much out of his actors and as you rightly state, the film is filled with amazing performances, Blakeley, Carradine, Duvall, Gibson, Black, Welles and especially Geraldine Chaplin. Henry Gibson’s barren jingoism, which you point out, when he tells the crowd “let’s show them what Nashville is made of”, is typical of the kind of empty-headed catchphrases we have been hearing from our so-called political leaders for so many years, one of the reasons this film is still so relevant today. Like MovieMan, while I like, admire and believe “Nashville” is an excellent film for many reasons; it would not rank in my top 25 for the 1970’s. My personal favorite Altman films are “McCabe and Mrs. Miller” and “MASH.”
Nothing since–by Altman–has come close to matching the power of this film, an experience for the spectator that probably cannot be captured by video or digital technology. Although critics such as Pauline Kael and Roger Ebert were quick to understand the film’s significance, most viewers were unable to “get” the film. But for those who did, just mention Ronee Blakley’s performance of “Dues,” or the final shot–a Gatsby-like tilt from the American flag to the open sky–and the memories return, along with the spinetingling thrill of the movie itself. (Even some “Nashville” admirers missed the posters in the assassin’s car, which indicate that his original target was the George Wallace-type candidate, not the country diva who suddenly becomes the scapegoat of his displaced rage and sense of betrayal.) In brief, “Nashville” is more than a film. It’s a richly resonant world to be entered into and revisited numerous times–as much if not moreso than “The Great Gatsby,” and “Death of a Salesman.”
I also prefer M*A*S*H* and McCabe and Mrs. Miller. This film is distancing, even if like others here I recognize its importance.
“Longeurs” are pretty much an inextricable part of the Altman experience, much like they are for Godard. His loose style lends itself well to this kind of rambling multi-character epic. I like this film, but I don’t agree that *A Wedding* is “dull” — that’s one of my favorite Altmans, probably because it takes his style to its (il)logical extreme, with the biggest and most unwieldy cast he ever assembled. Generally speaking, the more out of control things seem in an Altman movie, the more I enjoy it.
“Generally speaking, the more out of control things seem in an Altman movie, the more I enjoy it.”
Indeed, Ed!
Interpretation is a funny thing. I quote Kael:
“Who watching the pious Haven Hamilton sing the evangelical ‘Keep A’Goin’,’ his eyes flashing with a paranoid gleam as he keeps the audience under surveillance, would guess that the song represented his true spirit, and that when injured he would think of the audience before himself?”
This is the reading of the final scene that I’ve heard voiced most often (perhaps in part because Kael voiced it first) and it’s how I remember him in the climax – and how I like to remember him, as it seems to make the movie more complex and his character more interesting. Yet everyone here seems to be interpretating his actions in the finale as a confirmation of Gibson’s fatuousness.
Which, just goes to show, I guess, the ambiguity of the movie and the fact that Altman has left the door open enough to allow for many interpretations, which I do like.
Much appreciated use of the Kael quote there Movie Man, complete with your typical stellar insights in that comments and in the earliest ones in the thread. I have always felt much ambiguity in this film, and no doubt that’s why many can never connect with it, while others, embracing the very qualities you welcome, find it a masterpiece.
Excellent appraisal there Bill. I love this:
and sense of betrayal.) In brief, “Nashville” is more than a film. It’s a richly resonant world to be entered into and revisited numerous times.”
John Greco: That was a great comment there! I loved reading your insights there into the characters/performance. I do agree with your final disclaimer, too.
Ed: Allan may well have been a bit too quick to dismiss WEDDING. Thanks for your typically authoritative analysis.
David Thomson sums up this one perfectly for me:
“That is what makes Nashville so absorbing — once you’re awake. The notion of 26 roughly equal characters moving in random turmoil and coincidence is the ideal material for his style: he aspires to film not just eccentric groups but seething masses.”
All of which more or less expounds upon the point that Nashville is better in theory than on-screen, as is Altman’s Short Cuts and even — dare I blaspheme? — M*A*S*H. But there are few films that have worked so damn well in theory that the tedious experience of watching Nashville is somewhat forgivable.
It would be hard to put into words what precisely it is about the film that bugs me, aside from those longeurs, but then I love Altman misfires like Quintet and non-plot sludge fests like 3 Women so the simple claim that Nashville is “boring” is neither an authoritative nor an accurate one. Perhaps I’m more interested in cinema that focuses on the individual rather than the collective — preferring psychological film to sociological film. But then, how to explain my ardor for Altman’s Tanner ‘88? Or Paul T Anderson’s Magnolia?
I sense an ironic distance in Altman’s work that can easily be perceived as condescending. This is excruciatingly clear in the opening montage to Nashville and the masterfully lengthy tracking shot that begins The Player — not that the characters in either film deserve our sympathies. Movie Man indeed rightfully identifies a subtle humanism beneath the hateful layers, but it strikes me that Nashville is perhaps the messiest mix of what might be called Altmanic duality than any other film of his, apart from M*A*S*H. The most organized is probably McCabe and Ms. Miller: the tenderness and the pity are limned complexly, sure, but also concretely. We know where the poetry is. With Nashville it’s far less clear, and while I respect Altman a great deal for seeking cinematic art in unlikely configurations and situations, in my humble opinion he discovers less of it in Nashville than is commonly recognized.
This may be an obtuse analogy, but watching the film reminded me of the dizzyingly panoramic later work of Jacques Tati — which I also confess I’ve never quite “gotten”. But where Tati operates in vast, elaborately designed fishbowls, Altman’s over-spilling canvas seems to try too hard to take in the “real world” (whatever that might mean). In both directors I sense a sad distance from their multitudinous subjects — a sort of trumped up omniscience, a wild attempt to play the ocular deity — that stands in the way of my being totally engaged in the traffic jam of their content. But maybe it’s just me…
Jon, please tell me you’re not making reference to PLAYTIME in your summary paragraph?!?
Lol, Sam. I must confess I’m not sold on any Tati from Mon Oncle on, although I was referring predominantly to Traffic in my comment. However, I haven’t seen Playtime since college (which wasn’t THAT long ago, but still) and I’m looking forward to revisiting it in blu-ray when the Criterion edition is released. I’d be happy to discover that my first impression was inaccurate.
Jon, M*A*S*H is downright nasty – misogynist, arrogant, and bullying. Doesn’t mean I don’t like or enjoy it, but at times it’s probably Exhibit A in the argument that Altman’s actor-loving, democratically scripted opuses were more misanthropist than humanist. That recent Phillip Lopate anthology has withering critique of the film from a then-young Richard Corliss, who refuses to buy the film’s countercultural cred and identifies it as a “subtly reactionary film.”
I would agree with that assessment, although the actors — Sutherland and Gould in particular — seem to not quite be playing along with Altman’s cruel joke, which turns the film into a kind of bitter tug-of-war (interesting, since the movie also depicts a game of tug-of-war). That Corliss piece is also one of my favorites in Lopate’s anthology — I believe it was also reprinted in one of Corliss’ books on Hollywood Screenwriters, which are all fine texts.
Yes, Corliss irritates me sometimes – I found his defense of the current breed of CGI-infested blockbusters disingenuous and disheartening when I read it last December – but he can really hit the ball out of the park too. His piece on Jackson was probably the best I’ve read so far (Kaleem posted it on the Jackson thread on this site).
I don’t think it is unreasonable to say that this film is one of the most complex and challenging in contemporary American cinema. I have it at around #16 or #17 on my 1970’s list, yet I’ll admit I’ve always had a kind of love and hate relationship with it. Let’s just say that it pre-dates Paul Thomas Anderson, and I don’t say that in a bad way.
This has been another outstanding thread here at WitD, fueled in the late stages by those two brilliant gentlemen, Movie Man and Jon, both of whom have invested in stock on the site.
Peter, it’s interesting how you appraise this film, but I can well understand where you are coming from. Without a real narrative, over a dozen songs carry the film, and Altman really never spends much time with a single character. In this sense the film never becomes as engaging as its premise. At 160 minutes it’s simply too long, and in my view it’s one of the most overestimated of Altman’s films.
Movie Man: Unfortunately, I have not yet gotten to that particular Lopate essay, but I like this a lot, especially since I agree with it:
“Jon, M*A*S*H is downright nasty – misogynist, arrogant, and bullying. Doesn’t mean I don’t like or enjoy it, but at times it’s probably Exhibit A in the argument that Altman’s actor-loving, democratically scripted opuses were more misanthropist than humanist.”
Jon: OK, if your target was mostly TRAFFIC, I quite understand, as that one more than any other of his output was rathe rproblematic. I am wagering even money that another viewing of PLAYTIME may alter your position.
Nashville is one of my favorite Altman’s though I do understand some of the criticism directed at this film. I am actually unsure whether Altman has ever made a true masterwork. It seems to me that he’s either made very successful films in a minor key (by way of scope or ‘tone’) or more expansive (ambitious) works that are somewhat flawed. Altman is marvelous at deconstruction but almost too good. He swallows his own works. The art of referencing a tradition, paying homage to it but then also adopting a degree of ironic distance with respect to the same is a rather tricky mix. Very few get it right. In one sense it is Altman’s strength that he can never be rescued from his ‘alternative’ cinema. On the other hand he also by virtue of this evades the truly canonical. I am not suggesting the latter as a judgment call but as a matter of description. From my perspective nothing in Altman matches the best of Scorsese or Coppola or even Cimino. To recast all of this yet another way Altman has never been like Godard in seeming revolutionary but also engendering an entire history. A Godard comparison is not fair on anyone of course, I just mean to suggest the auteur’s ‘path’. Of course one could also flip this around on Godard. So successful has the Godardian signature been (one could argue it’s been at many levels the most effective over the last 40 years) that the ‘revolution’ seems tamed. There is a touch of the dated to some of Godard’s important 60s work but even with the films that remain as fresh as ever these do not perhaps seem as radical. Godard and Truffaut always had a great debate on this point. For Truffaut the film had to be accessible for as much of the audience as possible and then work its subversion. Godard felt that the very visual grammar of a film had to shock the audience even if it meant alienating some at the outset. I am not sure if such a debate could ever get completely resolved inasmuch as one can find enough worthwhile directors following either ‘ethic’. For the record I have always been much more of a Godard ‘person’ than a Truffaut one.
Kaleem, magnificent submission here, but this is nothing new from you. To answer your speculative query: No Altman has never made a true masterwork. I would say that MC CABE AND MRS. MILLER comes closest. I just can’t warm up to NASHVILLE and films like THE PLAYER and GOSFORD PARK were nice, but don’t hold up. M*A*S*H* was deciphered correctly by Movie Man, methinks. Truffaut is not the director Godard is by a longshot, yet Truffaut has always been the one who resonates emotionally far more with general audiences. The intellectuals of course think otherwise.
Thanks as always Sam. Godard has certainly been a perennial favorite with critics. Truffaut was once quite the flavor as well but one senses his fortunes have ebbed a bit since the early 80s.
[...] If you’re interested in the film, check out the script at The Daily Script. And here’s a shoutout to another review over at Wonders in the Dark. [...]