Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Nashville (1975)

To say that Nashville sprawls is like observing that Run Lola Run moves fast. With two dozen principle roles and a story that stretches 160 minutes without ever landing on anything you might consider a "plot", Nashville is a bit like people-watching at the mall if orchestrated by a real master. Never boring, never repetitive, never better.

It's a big, big, big movie.

Nashville was recently awarded the #59 position on the AFI's list of 100 American Films. Even so, I think it's safe to say that Nashville is likely one of the most misunderstood and least celebrated films on the list outside of hard-core cinephiles. In fact, I have no problem confessing that I didn't like the movie at all when I first saw it. It was a messy film; I lost track of what was going on. I couldn't get my head around why any of the characters were important or why this experience was one worth having. I felt like this was one of those film-school snob-pieces that I was supposed to nod and acknowledge as a masterpiece, all the while without mentioning that I'd never ever put it on just to watch it. Precious arthouse crap.

Ah! How things change. Here then is what I get out of the film now, 15 years after my first viewing:

The soundtrack. I lost my mind for Once in a blog post below, and in that post, I mentioned how special it was that the songs were given the space necessary to play out in their entirety. Nashville is built with the same sort of high ceilings: stage performances play out in real time with plenty of attention paid to the singers working their craft. And the music is 100% wonderful. But even as I get excited about the soundtrack here, I'm not talking about just the songs. Altman is a master of mixing dialogue, smashing conversations together and pulling out precisely the information that he wants to share. Nashville is his masterwork in this regard; I mentioned the run-time and character-count above. What follows from this is a giant stew of dialogue, much of which seems random and inconsequential but which together drafts a landscape that no single line of narrative could describe. In short, you get washed in what's happening, surrounded by the mess and the information...well, it sort of soaks in. And all of this great effect is done with the mixing board.

The cast. Sweet Jesus, what is astonishing about the cast of Nashville is how many of them have disappeared now into movie trivia. For example, it's a crime that Henry Gibson isn't one of the more name-recognized charactor-actors of the 80's and 90's. He should have had a career like William Macy following this performance, providing support and colour in all manner of big pictures. (He was granted a cameo in Magnolia, as a nod to Nashville.) Ditto for Ronee Blakley who puts every single contestant of American Idol to shame with her virtuous stage performances, demonstrating deep talent even while going through the motions of an on-stage break-down. Other more-famous actors hit career highlights in the film: Ned Beatty and Lily Tomlin in particular. The film also saw the introduction of Scott Glenn (a virtually silent role) and Jeff Goldblum (already a fully-formed eccentric!)

The all-important Arthouse Crap. This film took up a great deal of time in film school so please forgive me if I don't want to delve too deeply into Altman's themes and techniques: writing about this stuff still feels a bit like homework. Nevertheless, in the 15 years since I first watched Nashville, I've grown to appreciate it enormously in part because my taste in movies has thickened, but also because it is the sort of film that rewards multiples viewings. There's a rich amount of information to be found in Nashville, and there are a lot of well-thought term papers to be handed in about Altman's method of delivering the details. Produced when it was (post-Watergate, pre-America's Bicentennial), Nashville is a content-rich film, overflowing with philosophy and messaging. The controlled-chaotic structure supports this richness by providing a wide and large canvas where plenty of compelling details can nest in the corners of the frame.

The Big Picture. What is most fascinating about Nashville and the one element that makes it truly unique is how intricately it is woven together. It is very difficult to isolate a single strand (like a character or plot point) and call it the reason that the movie works. Like a big piece of music, it works because of the interlaced construction of its parts. And like a big piece of music, once you've heard it a couple of times and understand where it's heading and where the beats lie, it's tough not to kick back and enjoy the hell out of the experience flooding past.

I should point out that I watched A Prairie Home Companion a few months ago and was a little surprised by how much I loved it. It shares an awful lot in common with Nashville, with its diverse cast of performers, playful roster of songs and it's structure-less sense of structure. It's in A Prairie Home Companion that Altman is putting a lot of his tricks and signatures to bed. To be honest, I don't think I would have thought much of the film without Nashville under my belt. There are a lot of other movies for which I could say the same. I now consider Nashville a crucial part of my movie-going and it's a classic I'll be revisiting often (more often than some on this list).

(Now then...I probably need to watch Short Cuts again too...)

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