Directors Index: Altman, Robert

Robert Altman's film (which turned out to be his last) is a lively entertainment, a sweet ode to the simple pleasures to be had listening to the radio, and a lovely film about (appropriately) death. Altman employs a typically large ensemble cast for ostensibly the last broadcast of "A Prairie Home Companion," a St. Paul, Minnesota-based radio variety show, "the kind that died 50 years ago." Not particularly upset about the fact he's soon to be out of a job, the leader of this ragtag group is GK (Garrison Keillor), the narrator and head writer of the show. He is joined on stage by the Johnson Girls, Rhonda (Lily Tomlin from "Nashville") and Yolanda (Meryl Streep), and Yolanda brings along her talented misfit teenage daughter Lola (a stellar Lindsay Lohan). There's also the trail-hands Dusty and Lefty (Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly), whose specialty includes the uproarious musical tribut to ribald humor, "Bad Jokes." In typical Altman fashion, we also get a glimpse behind the scenes of the last show, with an anxiety-ridden stage manager named Molly ("Saturday Night Live" alum Maya Rudolph), who is several months pregnant (Rudolph's baby's actual father is stand-by director Paul Thomas Anderson, who was heavily influenced by Altman). Then, in the center of it all, is Guy Noir (Kevin Kline), a bumbling private-eye type who runs security for the program and has his eyes on all the variables that could make this night memorable in the worst possible ways. Seems the company was bought by a Texas conglomerate and they've sent their "axeman" (a humorless Tommy Lee Jones) to shut the whole thing down. Can the mysterious, white-trenchcoated "Dangerous Woman," (Virginia Madsen), an apparent angel, save them? Altman's film has a modest 105-minute running time and I wanted it to go on forever. The comedy is warm and teasing, the cast is delightful, and the soundtrack is filled with wall-to-wall music of the sort that Midwestern types love - songs which reflect a spirit, and arguably a sense of spirituality, which even the most hardened cynic can't resist. From Keillor's early solo "Slow Days of Summer" to Streep and Tomlin's showstopper "My Minnesota Home," from "Gold Watch and Chain," to the cast's big finale of "Red River Valley," this film is loaded with wonderful music. I dare you not to tear up and get a shiver down your spine as Chuck (L.Q. Jones), a sick old performer, takes to the stage to sing "You Have Been a Friend to Me," and towards the end appears to be gasping for air mid-lyric, eyes red, face pale, and just the slightest hint of tears forming. Robert Altman was 81 when he died in November 2006, having finally won an Oscar for Lifetime Achievement earlier that year and having completed this wonderfully fitting final work (he had two more films in pre-production at the time). He had a way of making his film sets like a party, and he loved actors, inviting them to bring what they could to make the party more festive. His camera (manned here by Ed Lachmann) was always moving, roving around to see whatever could be seen; it never appeared planned. He made judicious use of the zoom lense; he often liked to peek into the cracks and crevices behind the main action to see and show what most directors wouldn't bother with. The backgrounds of his films were never empty; he was as interested in the "side-stories" as he was in the "main plot." Yet his films never had a plot, per say; they were open to the many possibilities of everyday life. He gathered his massive casts for wonderful works, first garnering attention and acclaim with "MASH" (1970) and "McCabe & Mrs. Miller" (1971), and continued his style, developing a special sound system for recording his actors, which came in handy on such masterpieces as "Nashville" (1975), "The Player" (1992), "Short Cuts" (1993), and "Gosford Park" (2001) among many others. These were the work of a true artist, and he remains sorely missed.