A Tribute to Robert Altman - Part One

I was nervous and excited to meet this man. It was May 5th, 2004 in downtown Stamford, and as a founding board member of the restored Avon Theatre, it was my privilege to host Robert Altman at our gala re-opening event. Better still, as part of the program, we’d meet Altman and his wife Kathryn for a private dinner beforehand to get acquainted.

My nerves came from opening night jitters, but also from the director’s reputation as a maverick and the fact he rarely smiled in photos. Soon after the couple’s arrival at Siena Restaurant, a block away from the Avon, I found myself completely disarmed and at ease.. Robert Altman was turning out to be one of the more generous and unassuming people I’d ever met.

True, he was not a big smiler, but it was quickly apparent this was due to a natural mid-western reserve, and nothing else. In addition, Kathryn, his spouse of 45 years, was consistently gracious and delightful. Altman ordered a drink for Kathryn and himself, told me to call him “Bob”, and we were off to the races.

We spoke of his early days learning the craft, directing episodes of the 60’s TV series “Combat”. He said it was the best training he could have hoped for, and was grateful to have been paid to learn the tricky, time-sensitive art of directing.

After the meal, strolling with me to the theatre, he made this comment: “People should realize that when they revisit a truly great movie, they’ll always see it with fresh eyes.”

That night, both Avon’s houses were packed, with the larger theatre showing Altman’s classic “McCabe and Mrs. Miller”, and the smaller house featuring “The Company”, a recent production starring Neve Campbell .Patiently, Bob went from one theatre to the other, gave everyone the same self-deprecating welcome, and introduced each movie.

After the screenings, the audiences merged into the large house for a Q&A session that lasted a full hour. The director (then almost eighty) was engaged and eloquent throughout. At about half past eleven, it was all over, and after warm, grateful farewells, the Altmans headed back to New York City. Before departing, Bob made a special point of telling me how much he loved our theatre.

I thought: what a class act. And of course, with a pang of sadness I felt it all over again when I heard of Altman’s passing last month. At the same time I was grateful that we Avon patrons got to see this gifted gentleman in such fine form not so long ago.

This first installment of my two-part Altman tribute focuses on his initial period of cinematic success, from 1970-1975, when his film career first sky-rocketed. The following early Altman titles all warrant the “re-visiting” the director mentioned on that magic night in Stamford.
M*A*S*H (1970) -Altman’s breakthrough black comedy details the shenanigans of three rogue surgeons ( Donald Sutherland, Elliott Gould, and Tom Skerritt) assigned to a mobile army surgical hospital during the Korean War. Their hijinks distract them from the daily horrors they face in the operating room. This ground-breaking film remains my personal favorite Altman work, a sharp, seamless blending of comedy and anti-war film that’s as fresh and irreverent today as when released. (Extensive use of overlapping dialogue sequences was a first at the time.) Top-notch performances throughout and some unbearably funny and fast dialogue distinguish this memorable outing, soon to be adapted into one of TV’s longest-running series.
McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971) - John McCabe (Warren Beatty), gambler turned entrepreneur, finds a remote community in the 1900’s Pacific Northwest, and with the help of savvy madam Constance Miller (Julie Christie), builds it into a thriving town. Soon, some determined business interests want to buy McCabe out, but he refuses, forcing an eventual showdown. Altman’s dark, ironic tale is more mood piece than classic western, painting an unidealized portrait of our country’s expansion. Though we side with McCabe against the corporate interests, we realize we’re actually rooting for a crooked card-shark whose relationship with a drug-addicted prostitute is anything but healthy. The movie’s filled with stark, stunning visual set-pieces, and boasts one of Beatty’s best performances. This is more peak Altman, and don’t miss that finish!
Images (1972) - Altman’s subtle, under-exposed chiller concerns Cathryn (Susannah York), a woman whose last vestiges of reality are giving way to schizophrenia. Her disintegration occurs mainly at the Irish country home which she and her husband Hugh (Rene Auberjonois) share. Other mysterious, predatory men pop in and out of the film as well, but since the viewer is trapped inside Cathryn’s diseased mind, it’s hard to tell just who or what is real. Weird, creepy film builds dread and disorientation as we experience madness right alongside the central character. Altman’s choice of rustic Irish setting is ideal, as cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond uses its dank, remote quality to accentuate Cathryn’s building isolation and paranoia. The movie’s bleak, opaque quality will not be to all tastes, but psychological horror fans should pounce. York is outstanding in the lead.
Nashville (1975) - This ensemble drama finds mean-spirited, patriotic crooner Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson), mentally fragile country queen Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakely), philandering folkie Tom (Keith Carradine), and more than 20 indelible characters--performers, wanna-be stars, groupies, runaway wives, and Bible thumpers—crossing paths over a long, eventful weekend in the Country Music Capital of the U.S.A., where a political campaign is also underway. Altman’s sprawling masterpiece cleverly satirizes both the wholesome image of the country-music industry and the values of the “Me Generation”. But the enduring strength of the film lies in the hands and hearts of the many talented actors— Lily Tomlin, Ned Beatty, Jeff Goldblum, Karen Black, and Shelley Duvall, to name a few, who populate this rich cinematic mosaic. Real-life singer Blakely stands out as a troubled star modeled after Loretta Lynn. In yet another grand Altman-esque gesture, the actors composed their own songs for “Nashville”--and a most tuneful soundtrack it is.
But wait, there’s more. After the New Year, we’ll review the cream of Altman’s later work, from the late seventies forward. Till then, happy holidays and happy viewing.