Getting To Know: Robert Altman
By Lisa Hood-Anklewicz

Who He Is:

Born in February 1925, Robert Altman spent his formative years in Catholic school experimenting with the art of sound on whatever cheap tape recorders he could find at the time.  In 1945, he enlisted in the United States Air Force and became a co-pilot of fighter planes.   The exhilaration Altman experienced after surviving a near death dive and roll in a training mission would eventually become a source of inspiration for the filmmaker.  With each project he attempts to create a level of chaos that keeps him a little over his head, a little bit in trouble and a little frightened.

After being discharged from the Air Force, Altman got a position with the Calvin Company in Kansas City, making, mostly short and unremarkable, documentaries, employee training films and educational pieces.  His time at Calvin would give Altman the foundation in filmmaking that he needed to eventually branch out on his own.  In 1955, Altman was approached to direct an episode of television, a chance that would be his directorial debut.  The television series turned out to be Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and it was Hitchcock himself who offered him the opportunity.

Altman broke into feature films with The Delinquents in 1957, a semi-docudrama on the views adults had on the youth of the day.  With the success of the Hitchcock episode, he continued to direct a number of television shows, including Combat and Bonanza.  But it wasn’t until the success of M*A*S*H in 1969 that Altman’s name became a bankable commodity in Hollywood.  Since then, Altman has commonly had a reputation as a difficult filmmaker in the eyes of Hollywood.  He has often described his relationship with Hollywood by saying that he creates gloves and Hollywood makes shoes.  Despite this attitude, Altman is seen as a true artist and a visionary among his peers.  He has his own approach to filmmaking that sets him apart from everyone else.  Production crews love to work with Altman, and his approaches have made him known as “the actor’s director.”  Altman is known to give his actors much more freedom than they are used to, allowing them a higher understand their characters and their purpose.   

In a career that has thus far spanned 58 years, and will end, as Altman insists, only upon his death, we have seen Altman act as writer, producer and director in both television and film. In this column, we will focus on Altman’s work as a director in films. 

How To Spot Him:

There are three key elements to a true Altman film; the ensemble cast; the sound; and the floating camera.  Not every film Altman has always made hits all three of these elements but at least one is almost always there.

The sound of an Altman film, particularly in the dialogue, is never straight forward.  Conversations between multiple characters will overlap, and often key dialogue is heard off screen, or from a distance; through a window, or some kind of barrier separating the camera from the actors.

The “floating” camera.  In almost a documentary style of camera movement, Altman tends to keep his main camera (sometimes two) in almost constant movement over a scene, making use of zoom lenses to work in and out of the ensemble cast without ever seeming to intrude on the scene and its conversations.

The character driven plot.  The cast in many of Altman films are huge and the plot has you following so many main characters, or groups of them, that it can often be difficult to remember who is who.  This ensemble cast style only works by emphasizing more on the interaction between the characters and their character development than the actual plot of the film.  Altman’s usual attraction to a script is the interaction between characters and how life unfolds in front of the camera, much more than the actual course of the narrative plot.

 
Vital Fact:

Altman’s intentions were not always set on filmmaking.  His real interests lay in sound, which was evident from an early age and still in his films today.  Altman’s experimentations with portable recorders as a child and again during his time with the Calvin Company led him to make use of multi-layered eight-track sound.  In the early 1970s, Altman would become the founder of Lions 8-Track, a major development in film sound technology.  Lions 8-Track provided the industry with a new multi-layered film sound track recording method, which is used widely today. Altman was the first to make use of this type of soundtrack in his films, having the audio married to a floating camera, techniques still used widely today.

 
Not So Vital Fact:

While Altman was in the Air Force he came up with the idea of code tattooing your pets, and the idea became a reality known as “Identi-Code”.  Your cat or dog could have an identity number tattooed onto them for identity purposes should you ever lose them.  Altman even had the opportunity to tattoo President Truman’s dog personally.

 
Where To Start:

The Player (1992) - "Can we talk about something other than Hollywood for a change? We're educated people"

For someone who is completely new to Altman’s work, The Player is a much easier introduction than Nashville or M*A*S*H, which are the two films most often declared his ultimate masterpieces.  The Player is a film about the process of filmmaking at a typical Hollywood studio, the pitches, the parties and the deals, with one of the best plot twists in modern cinema.  The first eight minutes of The Player demonstrate all of the classic Altman trademarks in a remarkable opening credit sequence. The cast and crew spent one day rehearsing the sequence and the next day shooting it.  Altman has said that over both the rehearsals and the shooting, not one take was the same in either performance or dialogue.  Altman’s floating camera pans over, around and through the common area shared by a group of small offices on a studio lot, gently introducing the majority of the main characters as the camera moves around them.  Character names are tossed around in snatches of conversation that overlap each other both on and off screen.  In these eight minutes, the characters, the setting, pace, and plot are all introduced without a single edit.

M*A*S*H (1969) - "Attention! All base members must report for a drug test for marij ... marijua ... Disregard last transmission."

After a more modern film introduction to Altman with The Player, now it is much easier to move back and screen one of the hailed classics.  M*A*S*H was a script floating around at the time that both Tora! Tora! Tora! (the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour) and Patton (World War II) were being made, and it was turned down by 15 directors before Altman got the offer.  M*A*S*H is the film that allowed Altman to solidify his filmic techniques, which prior to this had been mostly experiments.  M*A*S*H was written specifically about the Korean War, but in production Altman removed every reference to Korea, intending the film to be non-specific and reinforce the anti-war statement of the time, the United States being at war in Vietnam.  The title text identifying the setting as Korea was added after editing at the insistence of the studio.  Despite its success, M*A*S*H had a hard time getting released.  During production, Altman felt that there was so much focus of the larger, big-budget productions of Patton and Tora! Tora! Tora!, that he was able to get away with more, like being the first to use the word “fuck” in a motion picture, and the graphic nature of the operating scenes.

Short Cuts (1993) - "I hate L.A.  All they do is snort coke and talk."

The story that takes place in Short Cuts, revolves around the everyday lives of residents of Los Angeles.  Short Cuts is really the story of nine different families, who just happen to intertwine with each others lives, for good and for bad.  It is life unfolding onscreen, Altman’s favourite kind of story.   The ensemble cast in Short Cuts in a perfect example of the quality of actor that Altman employs in his films, not just the quantity.  In fact, many of the actors had worked with Altman on past projects. 

Gosford Park (2001) - "Why do we spend our time living through them? Look at poor old Lewis.  If her own mother had a heart attack, she'd think it was less important than one of Lady Sylvia's farts."

Recent generations will probably most recognize Altman’s name in connection with Gosford Park.  Pushed by the studios as a whodunit film, Gosford Park is much more than that.  1932 England, a party thrown by a wealthy socialite at a country estate, the story becomes much more about the servant class working and living in the house than the socialites or even the murder.  With a cast of fourteen actors “above stairs”, twenty-six actors “below stairs”, and then the police staff that enter later to investigate the murder, Altman pulls out all of his tricks and executes them flawlessly.  The camera never seems to stop moving throughout the house, in and out of multiple conversations, everything that makes a film the perfect Altman film.

The Long Goodbye (1973) - "Nobody cares but me."  "Well that's you, Marlowe.  You’ll never learn, you're a born loser." "Yeah, I even lost my cat."

Philip Marlow is a character created by writer Raymond Chandler and is probably best remembered from Humphrey Bogart’s portrayal of the character in 1946’s The Big Sleep.  Revisited twenty years later in The Long Goodbye, the Marlow character (Elliott Gould) is true to the 1940s version, wandering thorough the landscape of the 1970s trying to keep his 40s P.I. morals and ideals alive.  Marlow finds himself with three cases being investigated, one by hire, one by cohesion, and one by his own curiosity.  His investigations start to reveal that each of the cases are connected to each other and Marlow seems to be the thread.  The Long Goodbye is a classic piece of Altman not simply because of the technical characteristics that he is known for (overlapping sound, floating camera).  When Altman was presented with the script, he was so taken by the ending climax of the film, he would only consent to make the picture if there was a clause in his contract that once he had completed editing, no one would be able to re-edit the film, just so that Altman could be sure that the original script’s ending would remain.   As a result, you know you are watching the true vision of Altman and his true ability as a filmmaker. The Long Goodbye is the perfect bridge in Altman’s work between M*A*S*H and Nashville.

Where To Go From There:

Nashville (1975) - Many people will probably disagree with me for putting Nashville in this category, however, I am in no way slighting either the film or Altman’s work by doing this.  Nashville is by far my favourite of Altman’s work, and was actually the first of his films I ever saw.  Having had that experience, I know how difficult it can be to “get into” this film if you don’t understand Altman’s process.   Nashville follows the stories of 24 main characters in a sort of country-western musical of American life in the heart of Nashville during a political campaign.  Each character seamlessly weaves through each others lives, some minor, some major, while the political campaign for Hal Phillip Walker is ever present and the central event of the climax of the movie. Walker becomes a character on his own, despite never being seen onscreen.  Altman pushes his love of character interaction to the very limit in Nashville, as it often overtakes the film, giving it more of a documentary feel than an actual plot, which is one of many reasons why it is heralded as Altman’s masterpiece.  Nashville is one of the five Altman’s films that was nominated for the Best Director Oscar, and one of two nominated for Best Picture.  Altman has never won in either category and in my opinion, this is where Altman should have received that recognition.  (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest took both awards that year).

Cookie’s Fortune (1999) - Cookie’s Fortune is a comedy about the events in naive small town over Easter weekend, revolving around the local police trying to solve a murder that never happened.  While it can’t be considered one of Altman’s best works of cinema, Cookie’s Fortune is still a great gem in the Altman vault.  A wonderful ensemble cast featuring Liv Tyler, Julianne Moore, Glenn Close, and Charles S. Dutton, which Altman mobilizes in his classic style of character weaving, keeping the focus of the film on the characters not the plot.  Overall, Cookie’s Fortune is a total hoot, and one of the most outright humorous pieces Altman has ever accomplished.

3 Women (1977) - Altman wrote 3 Women based on a dream he had on a night when his wife had become ill and been admitted to the hospital.  The title, the setting, two of the actors and the theme of personality theft all came out of this dream.  3 Women is very character-centric, with a voyeuristic tone.  The main characters, Pinky (Sissy Spacek), Millie (Shelley Duvall) and Willie (Janice Rule) interact in the classic Altman style, as life just passes by on screen.  Spacek’s character of Pinky is immediately presented as a kind of “lost soul,” quiet, shy and unsure of herself and her surroundings.  As the stories of each character begin to unravel, it becomes obvious that no one is really who they seem to say they are. Although the film is about all three of these female characters, there is a more central focus on the Millie and Pinky characters, and Duvall and Spacek’s performances are remarkable, making their interactions and character development that much more interesting and convincing.

Pret-a-Porter (1994) - Using the fast paced world of fashion and fashion modelling simply as a backdrop to explore the corruption of humanity and the sometimes shameless behaviour that we will employ against each other.  Altman’s ability to understand and use his characters is so strong that the subtlety in which he explores these aspects of humanity comes off as though the fashion world is at fault.  Pret-a-Porter is also an example of Altman’s ability to weave his fictional characters into the real world, interacting with real people.  This film is often criticised and looked upon as another miss in the Altman camp, for a misunderstood plot line.  However, like Nashville, you have to focus on the characters and their interactions instead of the plot to truly see Altman’s work.

 

What To Avoid:

Popeye (1980) - Even if you have children, don’t subject them to this.  Many critics have said that after Nashville, Altman struggled with his films, a matter of opinion you should come to on your own.  However, Popeye was definitely a miss for Altman.  Altman came to Popeye after Mike Nichols, Arthur Penn and Hal Ashby had all backed out.  While the sets and the casting in Popeye are quite brilliant (Shelly Duvall is spectacular as Olive Oyl), the bizarre plot line often becomes so drawn out that the movie could have easily been a half hour shorter.  Popeye, for some reason, was also done as a musical, courtesy of Harry Nilsson, and whenever the music starts, it could make you shudder.

Aria (1987) - Aria in short is an experimental film.  It consists of ten short pieces of interpretive opera arias directed by ten different directors.  If you like experimental film, then Aria is worth watching; otherwise it is just a confusing juxtaposition of images and music.

The Gingerbread Man (1998) - For some reason, this film doesn’t really seem to bear any of Altman’s trademarks. The film begins with strong promise, a great opening sequence and a quick jump into the plot.  However, that’s where it seems to go wrong; the film becomes so plot driven that the characters are secondary to it.  Based on a discarded John Grisham story, the plot is already predictable and stale to begin with and even Altman is not able to hold it together.  What puts the nail in the coffin for The Gingerbread Man is that the studio, unhappy with Altman’s cut of the film, took it from him, fired his editor and re-edited it to their own satisfaction.

The Company (2003) - Altman’s most recent release is also a missed target, and may have been from the set up.  The whole project was Neve Campbell’s idea from the beginning, in order to exhibit her skills as a dancer, a career path she was on long before acting.  Campbell assisted in the producing of the film as well as writing the screenplay.  Apparently writing isn’t one of her other hidden talents, because the story is weak from beginning to end.  The Company is a beautiful visual of dancing, but not much more.  Altman does work well with what he was given; using many of the same techniques he did in Nashville, just letting events unfold in front of the camera.  But in the end there are just too many cons against The Company to make it a worthy example of Altman’s work.  Much like the case was with The Gingerbread Man, a bad story can sometimes ruin the whole thing.

 

Other Information and Recommendations:

Pay close attention to the credits of Altman’s films, opening and closing.  He can get quite creative with his credit rolls, somehow tying them in with the film.  This is not a tactic present in every one of his films, but when it shows up, you’ll be glad you caught it.

Many of Altman’s films are still not available in a purchasable format, so don’t be surprised if you can’t get your hands on some.   If you want to see even more Altman, try to track down some of his television work which is now starting to come out on DVD.   Other films worth a mention for screening are:

Thieves Like Us (1974)

Streamers (1983)

Tanner ’88 (1988  TV mini-series)

Vincent & Theo (1990)

 
Everything Else You Need To Know:

Robert Altman’s Subliminal Reality by Robert T. Self
University of Minnesota Press. 2002.














The Nashville Chronicles: The Making of Robert Altman’s Masterpiece by Jan Stuart
Amedeus Press. 2003.

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000265/

 

 

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