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"Music
and Politics Collide in 'Nashville'"
by Scott Mantz
"Nashville"
Lily Tomlin, Keith Carradine, Ronee Blakley
Directed by Robert Altman
It's a compliment
to the work of a director when their name becomes synonymous with
a particular filmmaking style. Take Frank Capra. Classic films like
"Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" and "It's a Wonderful Life" embraced
the theme of the protagonist struggling through their rights of
passage to succeed with magnified feel-good results. Various movies
released since then (like 1993's "Dave") can't help but be described
as being "Capra-esque."
Fast forward
to the 1970's. In addition to the new-Hollywood revolutionaries
that included George Lucas, Martin Scorsese, Francis Coppola, and
Steven Spielberg, Robert Altman was about to invent a particular
filmmaking style that would come to be known as "Altman-esque" and
influence a whole new generation of film directors. Already an accomplished
director, with films like "MASH" and "McCabe & Mrs. Miller" under
his belt, it wasn't until 1975, with the release of "Nashville,"
that Altman delivered what is considered by many to be his crowning
achievement. Gone was the play-it-safe structure that defined the
typical 3-act paradigm that film schools embraced, and in was a
new multi-layered approach that was as much engrossing and intense
as it was perplexing and intricate.
Though it came
out in 1975, one year shy of the country's Bicentennial, it really
didn't matter--"Nashville" proved that show business and politics
had more in common than anybody dared to admit. The country was
still reeling from the open wounds of Vietnam, and the American
people still had a bad taste in their mouths after being lied to
by their own President. The 24 complex and dysfunctional characters
of "Nashville" convened in the country music capital of the world,
where a combination of events came together in an outdoor rally
to support a radical politician. The already intense and chaotic
environment was stretched to its limits, where it finally snapped
like a rubber-band under extreme pressure.
No one single
storyline is more important than the other, but all center around
the support of a presidential candidate, Hal Phillip Walker, who
we never see. John Triplette (Michael Murphy) is working with lawyer
Delbert Reese (Ned Beatty) to organize the event, which will be
headlined by the wonderfully talented, but emotionally unstable,
singer Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakley). Sueleen Gay (Gwen Welles) has
not one talented bone in her naive little body, but she still dreams
of sharing the stage with her idol. Tom Frank (Keith Carradine)
is in town to record a new album with his bandmates, Bill (Allan
Nicholls) and Mary (Cristina Raines), but he spends more time courting
women, including Delbert's wife (Lily Tomlin), than he does writing
music. Keeping the city unified is Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson),
a wildly popular and patriotic singer who has an uncanny knack for
politics. There's more where that came from, but why spoil the movie?
Everybody comes full circle for a shattering conclusion that has
to be seen to be believed.
There's no doubt
that Altman, a revolutionary from the 70's, had an influence on
Todd Solondtz, Neil LaBute, and Paul Thomas Anderson, revolutionaries
from the 90's. Their respective films, "Happiness," "Your Friends
and Neighbors," and, of course, "Magnolia," owed plenty to "Nashville's"
intelligent complexity. Even Quentin Tarantino, who created a genre
of his own with the non-linear "Pulp Fiction," owed plenty to Altman's
ambitious style.
Never before
had the words "ensemble cast" been put to such a test. Unlike prior
films that had a huge cast, like "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World"
and "The Poseidon Adventure," there was no main character or storyline
in "Nashville." The overall film was the focus, with the players
and circumstances acting like internal organs to fill out the body.
You can't help but become intoxicated by the interweaving events,
with Altman's penchant for overlapping dialogue further hypnotizing
the audience. Though the results would stretch the film on to a
then-whopping 2 hours and 39 minutes, the elimination of any of
the sub-stories would bring the whole film's concept crashing down.
"Nashville"
is brimming with stellar performances, and there are a few that
are definitely worth mentioning. Ronee Blakley plays Barbara Jean
with the type of fragile instability that recalls Marilyn Monroe.
She loves the attention and adores her fans, but she obviously cannot
handle the pressure, and her mental breakdown on stage is as tragic
as it is funny. Taking care of her is a full-time job, and it's
one that Allen Garfield, who plays her manager-slash-husband, clearly
relishes. Geraldine Chaplin plays the ditsy, flaky, and scatterbrained
producer from the BBC who's shooting a documentary about Nashville,
and, though he may not utter a word, 21-year-old Jeff Goldblum is
a hoot to watch as the "Easy Rider"-influenced wandering magician.
Altman would
return to ensemble pieces with his later films, with his success
ranging from the excellent ("The Player") to the good ("Short Cuts")
to the utterly forgettable ("Ready to Wear"). Still, one look at
"Nashville," and you can't help but want to see it again. The next
time one of Altman's contemporaries releases a movie like this,
do yourself a favor and return to "Nashville." Like the music and
politics that drive the film, it will no doubt stir a plethora of
emotions inside of you.
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