posted by NotAnyRon on July 25, 2006; screened on June 9, 2006
Robert Altman
-
2006
I am a man divided. One side loves Robert Altman; the other side loathes Garrison Keillor. You might imagine how torn I was to find out that the great Altman decided to direct a film version of Keillor's radio show A Prairie Home Companion. But if you know me even a little, you probably know that while it may be relatively easy to convince me to change my mind about something I dislike, it's like pulling teeth to convince me to change my mind about something I love. So, curiosity eventually won out and I subjected myself to the experiment of this film in hopes that Altman could convince me to fall in love with that soft spoken man from the north country. Too bad it didn't work.
The film opened beautifully. We get a shot of the sky in this small town as day turns into dusk and eventually settles into a shimmering view of the Northern Lights. The green of the sky slowly fades into a reflection of the local diner's neon lights in a puddle on the street. This transition is a metaphor for the main theme of the film. Altman shows us beauty in the mundane by comparing, not only a puddle, but also the simple pleasures found in a good small town diner with the sublime beauty of the Aurora Borealis. The basic plot concerns a radio show, much like Keillor's real show, which seems to come from a simpler time that has since passed us by, filled with singing, jokes and storytelling. The show is in grave danger of closing, since its station was just purchased by a national conglomerate. The simple pleasures found here aren't understood or valued by the corporation, but to the people who know and love the show, they are matters of life and death.
So far, so good for me. Even though I haven't been able to enjoy the radio show on its own merits, and I haven't even seen a single character onscreen, I'm already hooked on this film. But when I do get to see the characters, that's where it gets spotty. Over the course of the film, Altman alternates between three basic scenes: random conversations between colorful characters, the radio show proper, and the plot mechanics (including a charming but strange subplot involving the most beautiful angel of death (Virginia Madsen) that I've ever seen onscreen).
Each of these sections works some of the time. For instance, I died laughing at Woody Harrelson's and John C. Reilly's act as Dusty and Lefty, the singing cowboys. They sing songs full of double entendres until they pull out all the stops, realizing it's likely their last moment on the show, and get about as filthy as public radio allows. I also loved Meryl Streep's and Lily Tomlin's beautiful songs during their time on the show. Streep has a a fantastic voice and Tomlin blends well with her alto harmonies. Altman did all the music live, and the lack of dubbing made the film all the more enjoyable. There was also a minor subplot where Streep and Keillor play ex-lovers. The dynamic of their relationship is heightened by the drama of the final radio show, and they give great performances with only small glances and quiet innuendo.
But none of the sections work all of the time, and there are enough duds to make the film fairly difficult to watch. One protracted scene shows Keillor, Streep and Tomlin ad-libbing to kill time and keep the foley (sound effects) man busy. It would have been funny for about thirty seconds or even a full minute, but it must have gone on for at least five. I got the impression that Altman thought it was clever to show the cast floundering a bit, but this scene should have been left on the cutting room floor. My other problem is that I just don't seem to find Keillor's peculiar brand of humor funny. He seems to get a kick out of telling us that his show's sponsored by buttermilk biscuits and ketchup. What's funny about that? Altman played with this ridiculous surrealism a bit by counterpointing the buttermilk biscuit schtick with Keillor's aforementioned relationship with Streep. That added a level of interest, but didn't make Keillor any less annoying. I also found the death angel's presence in the film to be a little too contrived. It was an unneeded level of mysticism. These are but a few examples of the places that the film fell flat for me.
Finally, if the film had ended as well as it started, I might have forgiven the odd slow spots and quirkiness of Keillor's world. And while the film did end in the diner, I noticed nothing else that wrapped the film up in any interesting way, either thematically or structurally. If you are one of those people in the world who love both Altman and Keillor, this movie was made for you. But I must say, when I hear the words "Welcome to Lake Wobegon" come out of my car speakers, I'll still be reaching for that dial, despite my best efforts to the contrary. That having been said, you won't be able to keep me away from the next film by Mr. Altman, whatever it may be.