| Collector's Corner January 2007
 Nashville
- Starring: Richard Baskin, Ned Beatty, Karen
Black, Ronee Blakely, Keith Carradine, Geraldine Chaplin, Shelly Duvall, Henry Gibson,
Jeff Goldblum, Barbara Harris, Michael Murphy, Lily Tomlin, Gwen Welles
- Directed by: Robert Altman
- Theatrical release: 1975
- DVD release: 2000
- Video: Widescreen
- Sound: Dolby Digital 5.1
- Released by: Paramount Home Video
My objective was to take this country western culture,
and populist kind of culture, and just put this into a panorama to reflect American
sensibilities and politics.
-- Robert Altman on Nashville
Robert Altman’s recent death made me think about using
one of his films for "Collector’s Corner." His output was wildly variable,
and sometimes he seemed more interested in being novel than in making a good film. But
when he was on, he made some of the most interesting films ever to come out of Hollywood.
I picked Nashville partly because of its iconic reputation -- when a film is
described as "Altman-esque," it’s usually Nashville that’s
being referred to. I also picked Nashville for the way its anarchical
deconstruction and gleeful trashing of country-music culture takes flight as he spins the
stereotypes 180 degrees.
 Nashville takes place
over a long weekend in Nashville with a cast of two dozen characters. The story is a
snarling of two threads, both woven around how the characters hope country music will give
them what they need. One is the story of people in the music business, either working
their way up or trying to stay on top. The other is about setting up a rally for
Presidential hopeful Hal Phillip Walker, the candidate from the new Replacement Party (and
who never appears in the film). On the C&W music-business side, the characters range
from the powerful and popular singers Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson) and Barbara Jean
(Ronee Blakely) to such wannabes as Suleen Gay (Gwen Welles) and Albuquerque (Barbara
Harris). On the political side, Delbert Reese (Ned Beatty) and John Tripleete (Michael
Murphy) make the rounds of Nashville’s clubs and recording studios, trying to line up
endorsements and free entertainment for the Walker rally.
But the stories are just something through which the
characters can develop. In Nashville, each role -- the sensitive singer-songwriter,
the big-haired C&W queen, the political frontman, and all the other characters Altman
brings to life -- begins as a stereotype. His genius is revealed in how he twists those
stereotypes in unexpected ways.
Keith Carradine’s performance as Tom Frank is
particularly worth noting. Frank is the sensitive singer-songwriter, a cross between James
Taylor and Kris Kristofferson. But instead of being a heart-on-sleeve sweetie, he’s a
sexual predator cruel enough to have sex with a woman, then sit on the edge of the bed and
make a phone call to set up a rendezvous with another. His cruelest moment is in chapter
14, as he sleazily sings the most beautiful song in the movie, the Oscar-winning
"I’m Easy," as four of his sexual conquests watch. Imagine his malicious
amusement as he sees that each woman assumes he’s singing just to her, unaware that
Frank’s other lovers are sitting in the audience. It would be easy to focus on Frank
as a predator, but in this scene we instead concentrate on each of his lovers, played by
Lily Tomlin, Geraldine Chaplin, Shelly Duvall, and Cristina Raines. As he sings, we get
powerfully wordless acting from each -- especially Tomlin. Frank becomes a device, a cad
with a few Billboard-charting hits.
Throughout Nashville, the beautiful thing is how
Altman almost does away with plot and linear storytelling. Instead, he lets us meet the
people, then moves them into different contexts to reveal not only their reactions, but
the impact they have on other characters. In these interactions, the drama and comedy
occur. The film seems jumbled to many because of Altman’s use of overlapping dialog
(à la Howard Hawks), his reliance on a Greek-chorus type of exposition as a roving truck
blares Hal Phillip Walker’s taped political speeches, and the constant series of
songs that mirror the characters’ interactions. (Altman encouraged the actors playing
the various musicians to write their own songs to perform onscreen, and most of them
obliged.) But in every second of Nashville Altman bombards us with information, all
aimed at illuminating the characters. When, after close to three hours, the film finally
reaches its climax, it’s no surprise. By then, the astute viewer will be watching for
that event’s impact on the characters instead of the act itself.
This bouncing around without any standardized plot confused
a lot of viewers in 1975. Even today, some think it a hodge-podge of barely cohering
vignettes. They miss the film’s point. Most films follow neoclassical concepts of
narrative that go back to the 1700s: a unity of action, place, and time leading to a tidy
ending that offers the audience catharsis. Altman trounces each of the unities even as he
develops his own sense of unity by having the actions and reactions of his large
cast of characters bounce off one another. By the end, in an odd way, he arrives at his
own tidy ending; the catharsis during the ending version of "It Don’t Worry
Me" is real.
These complexities were what excited New Yorker
critic Pauline Kael, the no.1 cheerleader for Nashville. She called the film
"the funniest epic vision of America ever to reach the screen." Her cohorts
among the New York Film Critics gave Nashville their awards for Best Picture, Best
Director, and Best Supporting Actress (Lily Tomlin). The MPAA nominated Nashville
for five Oscars: for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Song ("I’m Easy"),
and Best Supporting Actress (Lily Tomlin and Ronee Blakely). Only Carradine won. The U.S.
National Film Registry put Nashville on its fourth annual list in 1992, along with
films such as Double Indemnity, Annie Hall, and Psycho.
 The studios never really understood Nashville.
United Artists passed on it. The film languished at Paramount, which wasted time
trying to figure out how to make it more acceptable to the masses. Since then, Nashville
has become a celebrated icon of film that has inspired such great if underappreciated work
as Welcome to L.A., Magnolia, and Crash.
We should be thankful that any version of Nashville has
been released on DVD, and Paramount Home Video at least partially recognizes the
film’s importance. They’ve included some good extras, including a 1999 interview
with Altman, as well as his riveting commentary track. Sadly, the anamorphic remastering
is hazy. Still, at a list price of $9.98, the Nashville DVD is one of the biggest
bargains at the store.
Nashville is the sort of movie that, in the hands of
a more malicious director, could easily have descended into cheap irony and malevolence,
the characters’ problems and missteps easy targets for potshots. Instead, we leave
the film feeling empathy, compassion, and even a bit uplifted. Which is what finally makes
Nashville a classic.
...Wes Marshall
wesm@hometheatersound.com |
