Altman: Life beyond the frame

It is striking to me to see the enormous effect that Altman has had on people's lives personally as well as cinematically. Certainly he has influenced other filmmakers, but reading the many online tributes to him... well, it is really quite moving to me.

As a long-time lover of movies I have greatly admired Altman's work, but am admittedly of a slightly "younger" generation of cinephiles and there are certain other directors (I can think of one in particualr, but whom I will not name) whose films have helped shape me into the man I've become just as artists like Altman have helped shape others who've come before me.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Jim. You are correct that in the light of such a tremendous loss, words seem so feeble, but I have attempted to put together some sort of tribute (however meager) to this premiere artist on my own site(www.damianarlyn.blogspot.com). It is not especially deep or profound, but it is sincere.

Rest in peace, Robert.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. I've got a lot to say, and they've got a clock on me. I want to thank everybody for this. The Academy. I was really honored and moved to accept this award. When the news first came to me about it, I was caught kind of off guard. I always thought this type of award meant that it was over. And then it dawned on me, that I was busy in rehearsals on a play, that I'm doing in London right now. It opened last night, Arthur Miller's last play "Resurrection Blues." I was doing an interview for my new film, that I just finished "Prairie Home Companion" which will come out in the summer. And I realized that it's not over. Of course, I was happy and thrilled and thrilled to accept this award. And I look at it as a nod to all of my films, because to me, I've just made one long film. And I know some of you have liked some of the sections, and others, you -- any way, it's all right.

And I want to thank all of the people that have worked on all of my pictures so hard. And the brilliant actors, the amazing crews. I can't name them all, so I'm going to name a doctor that is taking care of me, Jody Kaplan. So she represents everybody. And who have supported me and made it possible. I've always said that making a film is like making a sand castle at the beach. You invite your friends and you get them down there, and you say you build this beautiful structure, several of you. Then you sit back and watch the tide come in. Have a drink, watch the tide come in, and the ocean just takes it away. And that sand castle remains in your mind. Now I've built about 40 of them, and I never tire of it. No other filmmaker has gotten a better shake than I have. I'm very fortunate in my career. I've never had to direct a film I didn't choose or develop. I love filmmaking. It has given me an entree to the world, and the human condition and for that I'm forever grateful.

Finally I'd like to thank my family. You're all up there, all of them, almost. For their love and support. And through the years. And most importantly, i want to thank and applaud my wife, Kathryn Reed Altman, without whom I wouldn't be here today. I love you Trixie. Thank you. Oh -- one more thing. I'm here, i think, under kind of false pretenses. And I think I have to get -- become straight with you. Ten years ago, 11 years ago, I had a heart transplant. A total heart transplant. I got the heart of I think a young woman who is about in her late 30's. And so by that kind of calculation, you may be giving me this award, too early. Because I think I've got about 40 years left on it. And I intend to use it. Thank you very much. Thank you.

Robert Altman accepting his Honorary Award. No one that night had as much vitality. He stole the spotlight. John Stewart was sickly by comparison. How could someone who was so alive now be dead?

I'm selfish in my grief because I wanted more Altman movies!

I know I'm not alone in my greed for more of his inimitable art.

Rest in peace, Maestro.

I am somehow not sad at his passing. That he has done so much, and created meaningful work that has affected so many, that this eventual step for every person was done with more grace by Altman than it could have with anyone else - even in his death he remains an inspiration, and will always be more than just a memory.

After seeing all those thank yous from Altman at the Oscars in the previous post, I felt the need to say a few of my own but who knows where to send them? Thank you to film critics (especially Siskel and Ebert) because I wouldn't have discovered Altman on my own. As a teenager I saw a bit of "M*A*S*H" and a bit of "Mccabe" and was baffled. "Nashville" didn't interest me at all. (Country music? Who cares?) When I found out the critics who I was beginning to trust found this guy to be essential I decided (maybe just trying on a new, egghead persona) to give it another shot and I was blown away when I returned to the films listed above and, since then: "The Long Goodbye",
"The Player", "Gosford Park", to name a few, and my personal favorites: "Short Cuts" and the relatively hard to find "Secret Honor". Whatever persona I was trying on then has stuck and Robert Altman's films have made me smarter. He made just about every kind of movie imaginable (even a musical! "Popeye") and they were all so full of humanity and in love with the complexity of life and relationships in a way I can only hope has not gone with him. If there's any small silver lining it's that I may now be able to catch up with him and see the 15 or 20 films that I've missed so far. Thank you Robert Altman.

Jim: I spent the entire workday yesterday thinking about Robert Altman and Nashville. I wish I could have been in a place where I could have just kept to myself, because there were moments when I just didn't want anyone to see me, and though there were many people who came by to talk about it, I didn't really feel much like talking.

I spent the day thinking about how much I wanted to go home and see one of his movies-- I thought watching Nashville might actually be too painful; then I thought maybe A Prairie Home Companion; then I finally decided to revisit one of his beloved orphans, O.C. and Stiggs. But a looming work deadline forced me back into the office until about 1:00 a.m., so if I'm to spend more time reflecting on Altman with one of his movies, it'll probably be tonight.

But reading this post has been a balm to me. I've been surrounded by a lot of sympathetic people who just don't have that Altman connection. He was a director they knew of, but one whose movies never meant that much to them. Spending time reading the words of someone whose connection to Altman and Nashville is probably even more profound than my own has been a real blessing this afternoon. Thanks.

And I must say, I don't know where my head was at in 2000-- oh, wait-- yeah, that was the year my first daughter was born! That rather significant event must be the only possible excuse for my missing out on that Nashville reunion. I've seen a few movies on that screen, but, oh, how grand it must have been to see Nashville there, and in the presence of all your favorite stars! (By the way, I think I've sussed 'em all out-- Carradine, Doqui, Garfield/Goorwitz, Gibson, Goldblum, Baskin, Hayward, Murphy, Peel, not sure who the two women are, and that's Nicholls on the end, right? And in the top image, Ebert, Altman, Beatty, Black and Blakely. (Wow, that really rolls off the tongue!) Who is hidden behind the director? And were there any Cristina Raines sightings?

If it isn't too painfully obvious by now, I wish I could have been there.

Happy Thanksgiving, Jim. I know I'll be hearing one line over the weekend over and over in my head: "This isn't Dallas! This is Nashville! Let's show 'em what we're made of here in Nashville!" Amen.

"transplendent"

That was one of Shelley Duvall's character's favorite words, either in "3 Women" or "Brewster McCloud."

I've seen "Nashville" twice and it still hasn't grabbed me, mainly due to less-than-ideal viewing conditions. I'm going to watch again this week, in the dark, with the lights out. I want to love it like so many do.

Today I got from the library "Robert Altman: Jumping Off the Cliff" by Patrick McGilligan because I thirst for Altman's insight about "Brewster McCloud" (btw, where's the DVD?). Published in 1989, the book ends before "The Player," so I look forward to Altman's thoughts at that point in his career.

Dear Keith from Philly:

You're right -- it's been bothering me ever since I added that parenthetical about "transplendent," because I wasn't quite sure I remembered it correctly. Then when I read your comment it came into my head: It's Shelley Duvall in "Annie Hall" (talking about a Stones concert, I believe).

I asked Altman about McGilligan's bio when it came out and he hated it. He said it was mostly rubbish, but you never know what his reasons may have been. I got the impression he just didn't like anybody writing a book about him -- especially without his cooperation. (It wasn't like he was a recluse -- he LOVED talking in interviews!)

Anonymous, via e-mail:

"The Long Goodbye", and "California Split." Those two films along with "McCabe and Mrs Miller" are his best films in my opinion.

"Nashville" was terrible, and is far from being one of the best films of the 70's.
Above all, Altman was a Jean Renoir wannabe. I think the great J Hoberman said it best when he said "Altman is a filmmaker who aspires to the choreographed and socially astute ensemble humanism epitomized by Jean Renoir's The Rules of the Game. But unlike Renoir, he has a saturnine temperament— he cannot help but condescend to half of his characters and ridicule the rest." Most of what Robert Altman has done with overlapping dialogue was done first by Howard Hawks in the 1940 comedy "His Girl Friday", without the benefit of Dolby stereo.

Robert Altman has been plugging away on movie sets, manufacturing adroit classics, odious train wrecks, and—most often—ambitious mediocrities for more than five decades. Virtually every gracious label our culture has for
individualists has been garlanded upon him at one point or another. But it
may be his dogged prolificness that makes him so unreliable. Too easily
inspired, too repetitive, and too seduced by sophomoric ideas, Altman would seem to rather make a crummy movie than make no movie at all. It's not surprising that the top 5 most brilliant film critics working today ( Hoberman, Rosenbaum, Dargis, Atkinson, Kehr) all hated him. He was a slop artist.

Thanks, anonymous. I needed a good laugh after hearing this sad news.

To Anonymous:

I don't think it's fair to say that all of those critics hated Altman, rather that they were skeptical of his status as one of the sainted American auteurs.

I share that opinion, largely because of the quote you list: Altman was so smug and condescending to his characters, he often left a bad taste in my mouth. If I were to write my own "I Hated Hated Hated This Movie..." book it would likely start with "Nashville." Well, actually it would start with "American Beauty" but "Nashville" would come next.

I can't stand "MASH" either - I've watched three times, and laughed zero times. Because "MASH" and "Nashville" were the first two Altmans I watched (since I was told they were his best) I thought I hated Altman.

But then I revisited him about five years ago, checking out some of his lesser-celebrated films and I found much to like.

The Long Goodbye, California Split, 3 Women, and his inspired adaptation of "Popeye" top the list for me.

Best of all, Altman helped introduce Shelley Duvall, one of my favorite actresses of all-time, to the movie world, and I will give him props for recognizing in talent in such an unlikely source.

Altman is certainly not one of my favorite directors, or even anywhere close, but I do respect his tireless experimentation, and I don't consider it an insult to say that he left behing an uneven body of work.

I think Altman's best movie is The Player. Gosford Park bored me to death.

I find the "Nashville" hate kind of odd, since I've always found it funny and easy to enjoy, if (very very slightly) obscure in what it's trying to get across.

I think some of it might be about the goals of the film and what people expect of it (and maybe movies in general). Most movies aim to manipulate your emotions; by making you scared, by making you laugh, cry, whatever. Unlike, say, "McCabe and & Mrs. Miller," which tries for an intense emotional experience, "Nashville" is unsatisfying emotionally but fascinating intellectually.

Every once in a while I get an excruciating itch to see a film I haven't seen in a while and I got an especially powerful one for Nashville just prior to Altman's death. It was in my Netflix queue, but now it's listed as "short wait." I suppose it's a good thing that this'll bring a few more people to his work.

During Thanksgiving dinner last week a man asked my mom if she had heard about Alan Alda's death. My mother, being a huge Alan Alda fan, was very surprised and distressed. Despite my correcting the man, who was not at all familiar with Robert Altman, my mother kept asking me throughout dinner if I was sure that Alan Alda was indeed alive.

Eric: I hate to admit it, but I kind of agree with you about GOSFORD PARK. Despite all the acclaim, it's not one of my favorite Altman films.

Kevin L: Maybe NASHVILLE isn't emotionally satisfying in an overall sense, but I find the "I'm Easy" sequence and Ronee Blakley's numbers emotionally overwhelming.

Dear Jim,

The recent death of the great director Robert Altman rekindled the old debate in our local newspaper, The Tennessean, about his signal masterpiece “Nashville�?. Many thought he had done a hatchet job on country music and our community, when reality proves otherwise. He created films about cities he felt warmly about – Kansas City, where he was born, Los Angeles, where he lived most of the time, and Nashville. He focused his ire and most of his satire on the cutthroat business of filmmaking and music producing.

I was privileged to have been on the set almost every day for the filming of “Nashville,�? and he told me our city reminded him of Los Angeles in the early years. Every time he flew in or out of here, there was another star or would-be star on the plane pursuing the dream. More mischievously than malevolently, Robert Altman, in this film of interconnected lives and dashed dreams, captured the fragility of the performing artist and paradoxically strength in a time of crisis.

He loved actors, artists and musicians and gave them free range to create. The results were often loose and overlapping, but with “Nashville�? he created a patchwork quilt in red, white and blue (the color scheme of the movie) – a paean to America’s Bicentennial. This enduring film predicted not only the political ascendancy of a populist southern governor but also the assassination of a singing star. At the end, in front of the flag-draped Parthenon, Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson) displays the resolve of Scarlet O’Hara when faced with blood and death, as Albuquerque (Barbara Harris) stands up for her fallen idol and leads the gathered people of Nashville, black and white together, in an anthem to America.

Then the camera slowly tilts to the heavens.

P.S. I would appreciate very much to receive credit for my artwork that you used in your Scanners::blog column. It was also used in the beginning of the film, the premiere brochure, the soundtrack cover, the screenplay cover, various posters, and the cover for Jan Stuart’s wonderful book on the 25th anniversary of “Nashville.�?

Thank You,

J. William Myers
Artist and Illustrator
Professor of Storyboard Design, Watkins Film School
2202 Oakland Avenue
Nashville, TN 37212
(615) 383-039

I just finished watching Robert Altman’s Nashville, forcing myself to sit through the whole thing because he’s a Great Director and this was a declared a Great Masterpiece by all the critics. Well, not by me. I declare it total garbage.
Two hours and forty-five minutes is a long time to sit through a movie, and when the movie is as dull and boring as this one it becomes an ordeal that I can only describe as torture. It’s all endless, pointless, plotless wandering around, closing with an assassination attempt that I suppose was intended to make the preceding nonsense seem somehow Politically or Socially Significant. Well I call bullshit on that!
I know the critics are all in awe of Altman’s subtlety and mastery of technique, of all the clever references and foreshadowings and nuances and callbacks that I’m too much of a clod to get, and that a great Masterpiece like this cannot be grasped in all its manifold greatness in one sitting and that I must watch it again and again to appreciate all it has to offer.
I’m sorry, but clod that I am, there is no power on earth or in heaven that could compel me to waste another three hours of my life on this drivel.
Oh, there was that old lady who worked for the Kennedys – that was a foreshadowing of the big assassination climax, wasn’t it? And David Carradine’s song “I’m Easy” is about a shallow dude, which oh-so-subtly underscores what a shallow dude his character is. Get the picture? Yes, we see… If this is the kind of thing Altmaniacs are impressed by, I remain unconvinced.
And the music is lousy. It’s not even country, except for a few seconds of Vassar Clement’s fiddle. They went all the way to Nashville to shoot on location in the Capital of Country Music and these were the best songs they could get? What a waste.
This movie is so bad it makes me angry. Angry with myself for wasting a whole afternoon watching it when I could have been doing something more fulfilling, like my laundry. Angry at the critics who praised this piece of crap to the skies and persuaded me that it was not just worth seeing, but worth making a point of seeing. Angry that Robert Altman is dead, because I want to track him down and slap him silly for making this nonsense.